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Its about spin

2016-07-15T12:35:00.000-06:00

http://www.neuroquantology.com/index.php/journal/article/viewArticle/35

https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=-zTmWRAUi1kC&oi=fnd&pg=PP2&dq=non+local+consciousness&ots=CdisKShhSk&sig=Xj2r62er9EoBYXq1mfFkEpwWE6Y#v=onepage&q=non%20local%20consciousness&f=false

http://www.ingentaconnect.com/content/imp/jcs/2013/00000020/f0020001/art00001

All my stories are true.

2016-07-05T22:33:00.002-06:00

Some people have accused me of being a "good story teller", implying that I make up my stories or exaggerate them. I am not that creative. What makes my stories good, is that they are true. I just happen to be one of those people who have amazing things happen to me all the time. All my stories are true. This is a newspaper article from the Deseret News about my boating mishap on Utah lake back in 2003. My first year at BYU. The story is mostly accurate. There are a couple things that I can correct here. The boat didn't capsize until long after we ditched it. We were in the water about 2 hours before the jet ski's found us. And my version is hilarious compared to this one.

Pair plucked from Utah Lake

2 tried to swim to shore after wind capsized sailboat

By Tad Walch
Deseret Morning News

Published: Saturday, Aug. 16 2003 12:00 a.m. MDT

Rescuers were presented with a grim sign Friday evening as they searched for two capsized boaters in Utah Lake — a single shoe picked up by a powerboat.

PROVO — Rescuers were presented with a grim sign Friday evening as they searched for two capsized boaters in Utah Lake — a single shoe picked up by a powerboat.
"At that point in time it looked pretty bleak," said Sgt. Tom Hodgson of the Utah County Sheriff's Office.
The man and woman had been in the water for an hour before the mishap was reported to authorities at 7 p.m. They were quickly spotted by Provo police about a half mile from the Provo Boat Harbor, but 3- and 4-foot swells made it hard to keep track of their position. A sheriff's office plane helped pinpoint them and they were plucked from the water by search-and-rescue divers using waverunners.
Eden King, 22, was rescued first, at 7:52 p.m. She suffered mild hypothermia after spending nearly two hours in the lake and was taken by ambulance to her Provo residence, said Sgt. Spencer Cannon of the Utah County Sheriff's Office. Paramedics surrounded her with warm blankets and warm water bottles.
Geoff Goldsborough, 26, was picked up a few minutes later. He told rescuers the couple took out a sailboat at 4:30 p.m. The boat capsized in heavy winds at about 6 p.m. The pair remained with the boat for a half hour before trying to swim to shore, Cannon said.
Gusts of more than 20 mph complicated rescue efforts. A well-meaning boater attempted to guide his kayak to the stranded pair only to capsize himself. He was able to swim safely back to shore, Cannon said. Both the sailboat and the kayak remained missing Friday night and Hodgson said they would be left for recovery in calmer weather.
Winds also caused the swimmers to drift 600 to 700 yards.
"It was hard to pick them out in the water because of the white caps," Hodgson said. "We'd see them with binoculars and then lose them. When we picked them out again they had drifted 20 feet away. The man did a good job waving his arms to help us locate them."
Goldsborough declined a request for an interview.
Cannon said between 18 and 20 personnel joined the rescue attempt.
Goldsborough and King, who are both students at Brigham Young University, were wearing life jackets, which officers said was a key component in the recovery effort.
"They had life preservers on and that saved their lives today," Hodgson said. "That and they stayed together."

Rush Valley Campsite

2016-06-20T20:22:00.000-06:00

Camping in Rush Valley Utah. This is an isolated campsite about 30 minutes east of Dugway proving grounds. We started camping out here on February 26th, 2016. Amanda and I had an amazing experience here that night, it was one of those warmer days in February. We saw some things in the sky, that changed our lives forever.

Source List for your Awakening

2016-06-20T19:22:00.002-06:00

* Flat Earth*

200 Proofs the Earth is Flat
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k79Hj8XUNFM

Odd Tv/Macedonian Tv Show/Flat Earth/DMurhpy25
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RIBO7VB0VE

Ancient Flat Earth Cosmologies
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYIzDSJg8s8

Vedic Cosmologies

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XH86yBK-ZsY&list=PLsEWVATMY6q3WZVMZXI52wn-Iid6YgSs1&index=2

1000 Year Old Japanese Map
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxumjAIgLiM

NASA Lies/Moon Lie

Nasa Green Screen
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkkLO4oEQS4

Astronauts Gone Wild
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LLTB6PJvlg

Nasa Fake
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPRyo4cSESQ

*The Banking Cartel/The Occult/The Cabal*
The Hegelian Dialectic
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYhmATD8hLk

The Money Masters
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4wU9ZnAKAw

The Rothchilds
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeBHBdxnl3I

The Creature from Jekyll Island
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lu_VqX6J93k

Confessions of an Economic Hitman/Financial control of world
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y-a6jzU0YgQ

Anthony Sutton
Skull and Bones/Yale/The Hegelian Dialectic

Anthony Sutton/The Jesuits play both sides of war
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3vZNSAi-QM

The Secret History of the Jesuits
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IzRueOicdo

Shah of Iran/Removed for bucking the system.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imil1iIpIYA

Mena Cover Up/Clintons Ties to CIA, Illuminati, and Cocaine Smuggling
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLWMnH31D-Y

The Mena Connection/There is one big Occult.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTIXRy7ssbI

Essoteric Knowledge/Basics of the Beliefs and Knowledge of the Elite
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gm0_osMYkzM

Hermeticism and Alchemy
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YNdBpYh1eA

Luciferian Occult
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZobFebBZOE

Hitler and the Jesuits
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMyiFH8Ccms

The Greatest Story Never Told
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vnu5uW9No8g

The Medici Godfathers of the Medici
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOAVRcI6mFU

Mind Control
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=127BR5b8Hm4

Escape from Babylon

2016-06-17T09:24:00.000-06:00

We are close to Salt Lake City. There is a place, not too far from here, where we can make a new community on the foundations of truth and love. Come with me, escape from Babylon, and live free as a powerful creator of love and joy. The earth is flat, God exists, and the world is run by a dark cabal that is hell bent on control and destruction of life. You have a choice, we can leave this madness. There is still time for us to make a place where we can ride out the storm. So if you know yourself as a powerful creator, that the world is flat, and your thoughts create your reality, then join me in my quest to build a city of truth, light and love.

My journey of awakening has been one of catastrophic loss, and dramatic revelations. Having said that, I would not have had it any other way. My heroic attempts at independence has led me down a road where I realize that before we can become physically independent we must free our minds.

You have been lied to about many important things throughout your life. Many of the things you take as truth are a carefully crafted lie with the specific goal of enslaving you. This path is not for everyone, it is a choice. Some people choose to remain asleep, some people choose to continue to worship their golden calf when in their hearts they know something is missing, something is wrong.

For those of you who consider themselves to be a truth seeker, follow me to the desert to build a community that is independent of the sickly abhorrition known as society. Your mind has been enslaved by years of conditioning and programming. Once you wake up to this, you are on your path of return to the garden of Eden. There is a greener pasture, there is a paradise waiting for those who are willing to put in the work.

There is strength in numbers, and anything is possible when armed with the truth. If you are tired of the hamster wheel of low wages, tired of the high end rat race of the professional world, join me in my endeavor to build a place where you can have true freedom, true wealth, and connection with the people around you.

The financial guru's will tell you the way out of the rat race is passive income, or some other gobeldy gook that is impossible for the working class. They are all peddling books that sell you false hope. You are enslaved in a system that is rigged to keep you where you are. The only real way to beat the system is to escape your masters, and claim your sovereignty. We can grow our own food, build our own houses, and pursue the industry of our hearts. We can raise goats, bees, chickens. We can grow cannabis, and all the plants of the world year round in our greenhouses. We can trade with each other, and make our own currency, our own economy. I have the vision, and the experience, and I know the way.

Lets build something wonderful together. We are currently putting together an executive team that will be part of laying the plans and groundwork for a community that resurrects the American dream. For our executive team we are looking for a lawyer that can help incorporate our new town in a rural county. We are looking for an accountant, a permaculture planning genius, eco friendly sustainable city planners, we are looking for hard working people who share our vision of a bright and wonderful future, and a glorious present. We are also seeking to collaborate with any and all groups who share some aspect of our goal. You permaculture groups are our friends. You eco friendly sustainable minded, you earth builders, alternative builders, architects, you alternative economy people, you artists, and entertainers, writers, programmers, all of you are welcome. To join our executive team contact us for application details. Now, ...lets get to work.

Back to Montello.

2015-08-10T17:54:00.001-06:00

The Montello Project

When I was a young boy, I was at a company picnic at my father's work. There were games for children and prizes. One prize was a large shinny red fire truck and I wanted it real bad. It was a bean bag race. As soon as the race started me and about 6 other kids around 4 or 5 years old, hopped as fast as we could. I was hopping the fastest, I was far ahead of all the other kids. I really wanted that fire truck, and some how right before the finish line, I fell.

I laid there and cried while the other kids caught up and eventually a girl passed me and crossed the finish line. I got it into my head that I had to hop over the finish line, and my child mind thought that because I fell, that I failed. I gave up because I didn't understand the rules. I was so close when fell. My mother, trying to console me, but also teach me, told me that I fell so close to the finish line, I could have just rolled across it and I would have won. I didn't realize I could do that. My disappointment was even greater as I realized I could have won. My mother tried to teach me at that very young age, never give up. Never quit. Don't assume there are limitations where there are none.

This is the preliminary blog for a whole new project in the Montello area. While we see this project as being a few years in planning, we hope to break ground on site within three years.

The vision of the project is to build a sustainable desert community implementing and applying the smartest and most effective ideas that can apply to creating a sustainable and yet thriving community and culture in the desert.

I will keep the readers of this blog updated on any developments.

-Geoff Goldsborough

The Flow

2013-10-09T19:32:00.001-06:00

I can't write anymore. It's because I don't know who I am talking to, or worse, I feel like I am talking to myself. I mean why talk at all when your alone? We do it, but you already know everything your going to say. So why say it at all? Yet, oddly, I still have the impulse to write, to share, to leave my hand print on the cave wall.

There are no more questions, no more burning desire, no more thought driven behavior. I still indulge in the occasional trip into the fantasy we call life. But it doesn't last long now. I now put forth no effort whatsoever towards this thing. I don't often meditate, yet I sit still all the time. The flow is happening.

Silence is the default state.

Stillness is home.

Yet, here I am. In this 'life', in this story, in this body, sort of tied to it in a strange way. Knowing your in a dream, but not being able to wake up. I am both in and out, everything, and nothing. So very strange, the mind can't comprehend it, but there is a part of me that does comprehend it in a profound way. I no longer seek a teacher, I just am.

Everything is going to be o.k.

2013-05-12T12:40:00.001-06:00

Everything is going to be o.k.

God was right after all. Everything is going to be o.k. Even if your in a war, and then you loose a child, you can't find a job, you have no family, no friends, are all alone, it is going to be o.k. Even if you can't feed your family, when your wife leaves you, you are homeless, or in jail for the first time with no one to call. No matter what life throws at you, even death, it will be o.k.

Everything is exactly the way it should be, exactly how it is, working just the way it was intended by the one. When I had my moment of seeing, and subsequent moments after that I saw that death really is an illusion, and that it is like waking up from a dream. After the storm of life settles, remaining awake in the dream can be heaven on earth. It is only when we fall back into ego that we suffer. Heaven is here and now, awakening is game that is played to forget that.

I laughed hard for a long time. Everything that happened to me I did to myself. Everything that I did to others I was only doing to myself. I know that no one is really hurt, and nothing is ever lost.

I have three teachers I have been studying under, Adyashanti, Eckhart Tolle, and Alan Watts. I have never met any of these men personally, Alan Watts persona is no longer embodied of course. I was drawn to these three more than any other teachers.

I would really love to find a personal teacher that lives around here. I mean someone who is a little further along that can assist me in some of the hurdles that often come after any awakening. Like Adya says, after awakening there is a process, and that is where the real work begins. There are some danger of a post awakening super ego, among other things.

I wonder how many of those Pharaoh's or Emperors who built empire actually came from some guy who had some kind of awakening experience and thought he was God, or at the very least talked to by God. If you have ever heard Charles Manson talk you would see that he talks like he has had an awakening that was co-opted by his ego. I am saying this to acknowledge that I am being cautious and proceeding slowly.

I am going in and out of focus. Mostly when my eyes are open, I see from my human body. When my eyes are closed, I feel as one. I have had a few moments that sucked me in for a bit, but for the most part I have been working through them pretty quick. Like five to ten minutes, that is pretty good for me. I used to spend days fuming over stuff. Thus far I have not had complete aperture closure as Adyashanti describes it.

The feeling of dwelling as one with God is essentially the same thing Mormon's call the spirit. So in that sense I think Joseph Smith is right, stick to the spirit and you can't go wrong. There is a new understanding of being in the world but not of it. Being in the illusion, but not believing it anymore, not getting caught up in it.

I have compared awakening to death before. However it is also like birth. The act of labor is similar to the awakening process. Often awakening is associated with a dark night of the soul experience, this is very much like a woman hitting the wall in labor, it is your darkest moment, your deepest despair, it is the brutal tearing away of all that is false in you.

For a first time mother you may not really know what to expect. At first you don't quite know what is happening but you can tell that something feels different. Then the labor pains begin. At first it is manageable, but then the process intensifies. Life starts ripping away your false identifications one by one.

Some people have short labors, some people have long labors, and some people die in their labors before the birth happens. There is a lot of different kinds of birthing experiences. Some women can have painless deliveries, some have it hard. So to I imagine there are a lot of different experiences leading to awakening.

When the pain gets very intense then we see what we are really made of. Many people want to escape it, numb it. Many women run to the needle to avoid the pain, many doctors are quick to proscribe things that often complicate the process. Many people in life run to a drug or some other thing to try to deal with this. But a wise laborer knows that the numbing can slow down, interfere with, and even complicate the natural process.

My awakening was brutal. It just got more and more painful until I finally let go, and realized my ego has no control whatsoever. I quit, I gave up. I was exhausted and could not go on. There is no doctor to take the baby out for you. There is no one to bail me out of this one. It is wake up or die, ...and then wake up. Yet somehow, just like a woman in labor, I found the strength to give it one last push. One last push each time until finally the baby comes.

Enlightenment

2013-05-04T13:44:00.002-06:00

"And it came to pass that it was for the space of many hours before Moses did again receive his natural strength like unto man; and he said unto himself: Now, for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed." - Pearl of Great Price: Moses Chapter 1 Verse 10

I saw for myself that man is nothing. I woke up from this dream of life and saw myself for what I really am. On April 28th, 2013 around 9 or 10pm in the evening, I had a moment of enlightenment. The veil that separates me from God was lifted and I saw all of existence and God as as one whole and complete entity alone in existence.

I saw that God created life for enjoyment. All life takes place inside the body/mind of God. Life is like a virtual reality game that God enjoys very much. Essentially your body is just an avatar for God. It is set up so that each time God is born into a body it forgets what it is. This separation is all an illusion created by the game. In reality, all people and all things are one. God, all life, all people, all of existence is one conscious entity of pure intelligence, love and consciousness.

Some funny and amazing implications to this. You are God fooling itself into believing it is a human. Imagine the relief one experiences when one wakes up and see's that in fact they are not a human, but God. It is a terribly funny experience I think God does not grow tired from. Death is like waking up from sleep. Nothing in life is lost. No one in life is lost. All of life is stored forever like files on some kind of eternal computer inside of God. Not even a hair of your head shall be lost.

Life is the experience of God fooling itself into believing it is a person. God finds this to be a terribly funny joke on itself, and it gets a kind of satisfaction from life like one would get from a good dream, movie, or book. This truth will be revealed to all at some point either through death, the last laugh, or through awakening before death, and then again after death.

Some Guru's have taught that there is more to awakening than this. I am open to seeing that. However for the most part my impression was that life is just a game without much more meaning or purpose than that. I saw that life is where God likes to rest and play from time to time. There seems to be some kind of relief, rest, or dreaming value to the life experience beyond mere entertainment.

I don't know if I will be posting as frequently as I have been now. I don't know what the future will bring. There is a post awakening process that I will be engaged in fully.

Thanks for reading,
Geoff

This is Where the Gods Hide

2013-04-30T19:08:00.002-06:00

Something happened to me today(Sunday). I started writing this post on Sunday but have not been able to finish it. It is difficult. I have been attempting to write about it for days now but I have not been able to say it the way I want yet.

It started out like every other Sunday, me hanging out with my two Cats. I can’t go to church yet, it is too painful. I look at the happy married couples and the small children and my heart aches too much for me to stand.

There are songs I associated with Garrett’s funeral. One of them is The Scientist, by Coldplay. The other is Wake Up by Arcade Fire. I haven’t listened to either of these songs voluntarily for 3 ½ years. I am listening to one of them now, Wake Up, by Arcade Fire. I still can’t see pictures of Garrett, but this is a sign that things are getting better. I can enjoy the song. It is still a little sad, but it doesn’t hurt so bad. I like the lyrics, they are very non dualistic. I like the feeling and the vibe.

Everyone I met today was like seeing a part of me or some reflection of my own life or my own story. I could identify and connect with everyone. A strange event occurred and I suddenly was attracting a lot of people into my life. People calling me out of the blue, old friends, new friends, acquaintances etc. I got invitations that filled my day, and some for next weekend. It was very strange how all at once it was.

On the way home from this amazing day of connecting with people and meeting new friends and old friends I got a call from a new acquaintance who invited me to his house to meet his family.

It wasn’t cold out so we sat outside and talked. I was with perfect strangers yet it seemed like old friends. They looked more familiar as the night went on like friends, then family, then as a part of me.Then it happened.

I don't know what to call it. It was very much like a veil had been lifted. The people I was watching sort of melted away and for a moment I experienced oneness. There was no other at all, and the illusion of it was revealed to me as other melted away.

Even my vision blurred into one massive image of brilliant light in some kind of senesthesia. The other melted away and there was just one, just center. I saw that I am that. I saw that there is only one thing, and the other is an illusion, like some kind of game or joke. It was like I saw my reflection against the still surface of the universe, what I saw as other was me. My mind can not comprehend what it is, which is also why it has been so hard for me to write about. How can I explain it if I don’t ‘understand’ it myself?

I leaned back in my chair after this experience and looked around at the faces of those around me, and thought to myself, "Ahhh, so this is where Gods hide. In faces of those around you. In the forgotten dark corners of the world. In the places you would never look for the truth, places decent people won't go. In every moment all around you is heaven on earth for those who see."

The Clouds Part

2013-04-27T21:29:00.001-06:00

I just wanted to share two quotes from Thich Nhat Hanh, a friend recommended his writings to me, and I am glad I looked into it. Thanks.

Below are two quotes I wish I was familiar with as well as people around me would have been familiar with before Garrett died.

“When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That's the message he is sending.”
― Thich Nhat Hanh

“When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you
don't blame the lettuce. You look for reasons it is not
doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or

less sun. You never blame the lettuce. Yet if we have
problems with our friends or family, we blame the other
person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will
grow well, like the lettuce. Blaming has no positive
effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason
and argument. That is my experience. No blame, no
reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you
understand, and you show that you understand, you can
love, and the situation will change”
― Thich Nhat Hanh

Stories from my Mother.

2013-04-22T19:51:00.003-06:00

My Mom has a lot of her own crazy stories. Some of them are easy for me to believe, and others are not so easy. After you get to know her a bit you get a better idea which ones you can believe and which ones you can't.

Originally from the Ozarks in Arkansas, my mother moved to the sunny beaches of San Diego California at least before high school. I wonder if my parents knew where each other were from before they knew they liked each other. I wonder if it was the south that my parents both recognized and appreciated in each other at first, maybe not even realizing it.

My father like my mother moved from Mississippi to the same place as my Mother in California some time before high school as well. Did they have accents? Did they stand out? Did they talk like Californians? I never knew until now how much that southern thing shaped who and what I am.

There is surface culture, like language and maybe mannerisms, or dress. Then there is the non surface culture, a certain set of values, a certain unspoken belief system. Both my parents being from the south, southerners, who spent some years on the Sunny beaches of California before they started having us kids.

One story of my Mom's that she was at the beach and floating around with some kind of inflatable device and a small child with her. This was not too long after Jaws came out for the first time in 1975. I was born in 1977. I can't remember which kid my Mom said she had. Anyway, a shark attacked her. Her motherly instinct kicked in and she bit the shark hard on the nose.

Then she realized it was a dolphin, a playful one. Or at least it used to be, before my Mom bit it on the nose, mistaking it for Jaws. I was in San Diego, not to long ago. I saw dolphins swimming very near to the people wading in the water at the beach one day.

Here are some stories my Mom tells about me. Some of them I remember, and some of them I don't.

One I remember. I saw a TV show where a guy escaped from prison by pretending to hang himself, when the guard see's what happens he opens the door, then leaves with the door open. The guy then gets down and runs to freedom. So I gave it a try by tying a rope around my chest and under my arms.

We lived in a house with two stories, so I slowly lowered myself into postion, and immediately terrified and horrified my family. Now my Mother says I was not 5 years old when I was doing stuff like this. I remember a lot about being 6 years old, so some how maybe someone can figure out the real dates and ages of all these things.

My family was first horrified, then relieved, then angry. Mom was pretty mad at me for that. As is the case with my family, we were moving again. So this time when I decided to hang myself from the bannister, my mom and a real estate agent walked in on my dead corpse hanging there in the middle of the main entrance.

I don't remember this part but my mother says the real estate agent lady screamed. My Mom was in shock and she was also trying to figure out how to convince the woman that it was indeed ok. "Should someone call the police?"

"No Ma'am I promise he is just fine. He has done this before. Hold on one second. Geoffry!! you get down right now!" No response. I was in it for keeps. So my mom looks at my older sisters standing by, and like a captain giving orders to pirates, she says, "Cut him down!" I guess they had to cut the rope off the last time too. So my sisters jump into action and with huge delight filled faces they scurry about their work. In a moment, a loud thud was heard throughout the house. It was the sound of my small body hitting the floor, limp and motionless. I stayed in character, and didn't move.

My mom still hadn't been able to convince the real estate agent. So then my Mom got real mad. You can tell when she get's mad. She yells "Geoffry you get up from there right now and go to your room or I will make sure your Father gives you a real spanking when I get home."

I jumped up. collected my rope, and went to my room.

The real estate lady was still in shock. My mom tried to finish showing her the house we were tyring to sell, but she was so shook up after that she had to go early, or at least that was the idea I got from the way I heard it told to me three dozen times over my childhood.

There was another time when I went out into the street and just laid in the middle of it motionless until someone would come notice me. The first time I did it my Mother saw me. She says, at first she was worried, but when she saw me laying there she recognized my 'dead face' so she knew I was faking it. She yelled at me, I got in trouble.

One day my mother looked out the front window and saw a large crowd of neighbors all gathered around. She got that feeling and ran out to see what had happened. It was me, with my 'dead face' in the middle of a huge crowd. Everyone was asking "Who's child is this? Did anyone see what happened?" My Mom said she was to nervous about the crowd to admit she was my mother. So she just backed out of the crowd and watched from a distance. After a while, I jumped up all of a sudden, and scared the cud out of the crowd. I yell, "Ha ha I fooled you!!" then I run away back to my Mom.

She said, she kept looking back and it took a good 5 or ten minutes for everyone to clear out. At one point there was just a couple people standing there just staring at that spot. She was hoping no one would call the police. Folks in the crowd were still processing the whole dead child thing, that they were not able to switch tot he ha ha ha joke part of it that quick.

A story I sort of remember is The Great Vaseline Escape. My mother would often have to grab my by the hair to stop me from running into danger or just away and into trouble. One time I was really testing her patience in the grocery store. She grabbed my hair, and I slipped right out. It worked! I should really let my Mom tell these stories in her own words.

Accidental Discharge

2013-04-19T20:53:00.001-06:00

AD, another story about a cat in a dogs world. In the army, when you fire your weapon when you were not supposed to, it is called an accidental discharge. It is something that should not happen. ...at least under most normal situations. That is what the Army calls it, I am serious, accidental discharge, so we say AD for the abbreviation.

I was an almost news headline in the 2002 Olympics. I was in the 1st and 19th Special Forces Group out of Camp Williams. I was new to the unit. I had only been to two or three drills with them. We had been activated due to security operations for some of the events.

I would do armed patrols with a team of guys. Our senior enlisted was this Air Force Para jumper guy who retired from active duty and joined the Army national guard as a retirement thing. It was rumored this guy was in Mogadishu when the Black Hawk down incident happened. All his subordinates looked up to him in awe. He came across as confident but not arrogant, and that made him charismatic to a lot of us.

One night he pulls us together as we are cleaning our rifles after a patrol. It is like a scene from a movie, he steps in to give the young soldiers some wise words. "Men, listen up here. Now it's important for you to know that if your out there on patrol in the snow and you fall over and jam your rifle into the snow, you have got to clear the snow before it is safe to fire the weapon. You have got to pull the bolt back and blow down the barel to try to melt the snow. But if you try to fire the weapon when the barrel is jammed with packed snow or ice, you could easily have a serious misfire." Then he gave us sort of a macho nod and turned and walked away. "Thank you sargeant!"

I know I was glad to get such good winter warfare tips from a guy who got his combat time in Mogadishu. I saw Ridley Scott's film Black Hawk down and I don't think there was snow there, but whatever the guy must know what he is talking, at the least because he says it so well.

So for some manning reasons I was reassigned to a different watch group. It was mostly with guys who were not even from my unit, they were from Montana. Nice fellas really.

The very first night on duty with my new watch section I was assigned to the very top of the mountain. I was by the ski lift. I couldn't see any other soldiers around me. We had these little phone booth heater boxes. Some of you know what I am talking about. Its like a closet you can stand in when it is really cold to warm up, they have big windows on them.

We were given snowshoes. I had never used them before but I figured it must be as easy as it looks. I wasn't going to sit the whole watch in my safe warm little booth. I was going to be vigilant and professional. I wanted to be the good headline that said "Plot Foiled! Lone Soldier Saves Olympics!"

I figure out how to put the snow shoes on and I start patrolling my area as ordered. I suppose I could have just stayed in my hut the whole watch. That is probably what the other soldiers did. I was a fanatic though, a true believer, hard core, gung ho son of a gun. This was my third chance at special forces. My first was when I failed the swim test to be a Navy Seal, the second was when I had a date for the Q course but then I went through my first divorce and never made it.

Then I ended up moving to the Utah after that and into the sister unit of the Washington 19th SF. I was being the most professional I could be. Taking the job seriously, and following orders and all that. I wanted to get a Q course spot in the Unit.

Our orders were to patrol the area. The huts were only to be used for warming up. I was walking on the top of some world famous ski lift I am sure. I could see the light of the lift house through the trees from my hut. I walked around on the slope for a bit, then I walked into the woods, at night, and alone. I had a radio, and and an almost loaded weapon.

Walking in the woods was a totally different experience. The snow was soft. I fell over twice. Both times managing to spare my rifle from getting any snow packed down it. It is very hard to get back up in snow shoes, in deep soft snow without getting snow all over you. I did my best.

As I started back towards the ski slope, and eventually my hut, I fell again. I was headed to the hut that I planned on spending the rest of my watch just sitting in, feeling as if I had done enough in the name of defense, there was no need to be a hero after all.

So when I fell the third time, I got snow packed into my barrel. Luckily, I had a combat veteran's advice on a situation like this. I pulled the bolt back to release the door to the chamber. You know the place where the bullet shell comes out of. I put my mouth over the hole and blew.

Nothing happened. I even look down the barrel of my own rifle just to see. It is still clearly plugged pretty good. I was taking this whole snow packed in the barrel thing pretty seriously. So I blew harder.

The bolt slipped. I wish I had remembered then that when I pulled it back to continue blowing a bullet would fling out into the snow. If it were a movie, this scene would play out in slow motion.

"NOOOooo!!!" me screaming in slow motion voice. The bullet swinging around in the air in a trajectory much faster than the outstretched hand that is trying to catch it.

Puff! it lands in the powder. I didn't even bother trying to look for it. The snow was at least 5 feet deep. I am not even 6 feet tall.

Right there, loosing that one bullet was enough to give me hell for the rest of my career. There was going to be an investigation, inspection, interrogations etc. I knew I was in big trouble. I slowly turned back towards the slope, and sturdier ground. I was headed back to the hut to radio in what happened. My weapon was such that if I pull the trigger it is going to fire a bullet.

I fell again and my back hit the snow hard. Then I fired three rounds into the ski lift. It wasn't more than 10 yards in front of me.

That was the first time I knew what it felt like to kill someone.

Now I am going to get into trouble before watch is over. I didn't even bother to look into the lift. I knew what was in there. It was some old mechanic with his pants hung past his crack lying in a large pool of his own blood. He won't be playing Santa this year for his grand kids. No I didn't need to go in there.

Besides, this way I don't contaminate the crime scene. I kept walking right past that lift and towards my hut. I should have stayed in the darn hut. Why do you have to be the hero all the time? Now there is no way out of this. I am going to jail for a long time. A man's voice came from behind me. "Hey, excuse me. Did you hear a gunshot? Was that you?"

"Yes sir. It was." I looked him in the eye as if I was standing on the gallows with a rope around my neck. "Were you in the ski lift?" To my great relief he says yes. He was younger, and skinnier than I imagined, but I got the but crack thing right. The bullets must have gone over the lift. Thank God.

"Hey you better be more careful there fella." He says in all seriousness then turns and walks away. He was completely oblivious to how close he just came to death. I realized how close I was to death. I thought, maybe no life in jail after all.

It turns out I am the real threat. It also turns out that the PJ who allegedly served in Mogadishu didn't know what the heck he was talking about. Snow packed down the barrel of the weapon wasn't that big of a deal. Mine fired just fine. And the blowing down the receiver thing? It doesn't work.

Instead of headlines of praise I would be getting headlines of infamy, "Who is the real enemy? Al Qaeda or US Army?" or "The Soldier who Shot and Killed Bob the ski lift guy gets 20 to life!" Not the kind of headlines I was hoping for. If I am lucky, I may get the advantage of the Army's public relations department. They may be able to put some spin on the headlines, maybe even cover it up all together. After all this was a political event meant to reassure the American people of their safety after September 11th.

I had been through some tough spots before, but for this one I heard taps. I finally got back to the hut, and radio contact. The blizzard was so bad it was really affecting the radios, the message has to be relayed to the bottom of the hill where our supervisors were sitting in heated tents. I could hear the silent airwaves light up with chatter. I heard someone say my name over the radio. Whoops. That was a breach of security.

Before I knew it I had some captain ride up on the ski lift walk up to me and take my weapon away, and berate me and demean me. I didn't know him at all.

From that moment on every couple hours that went by I went up at least on rank in the chain of command. This was early in the morning, by the time I got to lunch I was talking with a very senior officer in the Utah Army National Guard. The higher up in rank they were the nicer they were to me. This guy was very nice and also interesting to talk with.

After he was done asking me questions he said "Don't worry I have already heard enough of the situation before I got here. I am pretty sure you did nothing wrong. I am sure even Audie Murphey has had an accidental discharge in his time. From all accounts you appear to be a very good soldier. Relax. That's an order." I did relax. This guy was pretty cool.

After speaking with the civilian cop who questioned me he convinced the cop that this wasn't really necessary to call the news. Sweet, the cover up I was hoping for. The General was so darn charming it was hard not to do what he suggested. The cop said it wasn't his job to call the news. They shook hands and the cop departed.

The investigation found that I did nothing wrong. In fact, the General even made the captain who took my rifle apologize to me for the way he spoke with me and how he treated me. It turns out he was the one that blasted my name over the radio. He got in trouble for that too. How freekin cool is that? How often does that happen?

It was Generals like that that helped us win World War II. I didn't get in trouble, and the jerks did. The only thing I can think of is this General was one cool cat. I wouldn't reveal his secret. He is a cat in wolves clothing.

The investigation became something of a mess. Records indicated I wasn't qualified on the weapon in over a year. Someone had made a forgery of my weapons card. It was a wide spread problem with so many units being activated all at once. I was supposed to have been qualified on the weapon within 6 months of active duty. I got my bosses in trouble because they were cutting corners. Because of what happened to me they got caught. Not only was I the idiot that fired his weapon, now I became an unintentional whistle blower. My career in the Utah Guard was over.

My bosses, the ones I just got in trouble, didn't even know me yet. They denied I was in their unit a few times before they realized that indeed I was in their unit. None of them knew who I was, and after the incident they only knew me as the jackass who can't keep his finger off the trigger. Needless to say, I didn't last too much longer in that unit.

I would not be going to the Q course after all. Another dream dies silently. Even though I had the best intentions and didn't do anything wrong, I knew I wouldn't have another chance to fulfill that childhood dream.

But you got to admit it is a funny story.

Jennifer McDougal

2013-04-18T22:08:00.004-06:00

It the fifth grade, I loved Jennifer McDougal. I would buy her candies on valentines day, and appropriate gifts for every holiday. I would constantly subject myself to rejection from her.

One valentines day I took flowers to Jennifer McDougal's house. Somehow I found out where she lived. I brought two buddies with me. They stayed across the street and watched while I approached the door.

I was nervous. Since we weren't at school I thought she may feel a little more secure and friendly. I was wrong.

The wicked ugly stepsister answered the door. It was stunning because there was just enough resemblance to Jennifer McDougal to be visible, but enough difference that you could see how unfair the the genetic pool had been to the older half sister. If Jennifer McDougal was a man she would be her older ugly half sister.

I was polite.

I asked to see Jennifer and the stepsister said she didn't want to see me and that I should leave. Then I asked her if she would at least give the flowers to Jen. She said no, she wouldn't. She slams the door closed and locks it, and walks away from the door.

I place the flowers on the doormat and walk away. Before I can leave the yard, the stepsister opened the door and rushes to me and shoved the flowers back in my face and pushed me and told me to leave and get off their property. As I was walking away she was pushing me.

When I got onto the sidewalk I protested her pushing me. "I am off your property! This is the sidewalk, the sidewalk is public property!" At this point I don't know if Jennifer even knows I am here. I am thinking maybe this sister is jealous and so isn't telling her sister about me. Then the half sister pushes me over, and I fall and land on my back.

As I am laying on my back staring up at this viscous female character my friends were laughing pretty hard at the whole scene. I wonder if their laughter didn't in some way egg her on. Like she was glad to be pleasing somebody in life.

When I fell down, two books from my backpack fell onto the sidewalk. She grabbed them and threw them into the drain gutter on the side of the road. They were expensive books.

I yelled at her, she pushed me again. Then she punched me right in the face.

My friends started rolling on the ground laughing. I was in shock. Then before I could say or do anything she punches me again, hard.

"Oooowww" I could hear my friends yell in sympathy pains. They stopped laughing. They scream "Hit her!! Hit her Geof!! Hit her!!" I had had enough of a beating. It didn't take much for me to see I needed to defend myself. I punched her back. It landed on the side of her face.

Stunned a bit she took a step back, shook it off and put her fists up.We exchanged multiple punches to the face, or at least aimed at the face or body. I was in a full on fist fight with a girl.

She was a good fighter. She was larger than I was, and so it could have been a fair fight. Frankly, I was getting beat up by her pretty bad. I started swinging for my life. I threw this right hook for her face, she pulled back and I missed her face. As she was arched back from dodging my punch, my fist landed on her left breast.

It was a lucky accident that I even managed to hit her at all, let alone a tender developing breast. I had no idea that was even painful for girls. Besides, I wasn't aiming for her breast, I was aiming for her face. She stepped back and I hit her breast instead. Lucky I did.

Just at the moment my right hook pushes off, as if in slow motion, Jennifer McDougal comes to the front door, just in time to see me punching her sister in the breast. Then her sister collapses in agony on the black asphalt of the street. Her hair draped, covering her sob soaked face.

Jennifer McDougal came running out to embrace her sister. She didn't see the rest of the fight where I was bloodied and bell rung from her sisters assault."My sister, My sister! Oh my gosh! You A@$%Hole!" she screams.

My friends had retrieved my books from the drain gutter some time when I was getting pummeled by Old Ugly. When the fight got bloody they knew we would have to make a quick escape, so they scrambled to get our stuff together.

I grabbed my two books from my friends and put them in my backpack. The three of us walked away leaving the two girls in the same spot as where Old Ugly first went down. I stopped walking.

I turned around and started to walk back towards the girls. My friends look at each other in confusion.

I picked up the mangled and broken bouquet of roses. I walked up to Jennifer McDougal, who was still holding her crying sister. Without saying a word, but looking deep in her eyes with all the intensity and clarity of the moment I threw the roses at her feet. Then I turned and walked away. I never pursued Jennifer McDougal again.

Time went by and as things go in my family, we moved. This time from San Jose and on to a series of moves over the course of a few years. I ended up in a High School in Lassen County in Northern California. It had been six or seven years since the fifth grade, and then Jennifer McDougal moves to the very same school. Of all the odds.

All grown up, still hot, Jennifer McDougal in the flesh. It was a strange experience for me. I was surprised at how uninterested I was in her. I had moved on the day of the fight.

I could also tell that she was mostly seeking to attach to something familiar in order to feel safe. She thought she liked me, but really I was just a warm fuzzy security blanket for her. I knew what she was going through. Welcome to my world. You know, I moved 9 times in high school alone, I was on my own for each one of them.

I denied her that attachment. I thought it would be best for her to learn the truth sooner than later. People talk about attachment issues. The Buddhists say we shouldn't attach ourselves to things or relationships. Others say we should have normal healthy attachments to people.

Anyway, for whatever reason it was, Jennifer McDougal was now chasing me. I was curious, fascinated even, but I made it clear to her early on that I had moved on. It was like she didn't even care about the fifth grade when I punched her sister back into pre-puberty. I think I even remember having a conversation with her about the fight and she said something like she never liked her half sister anyway.

About three months after she got to Lassen High Jennifer got herself a security blanket alright, a boyfriend. She was pregnant and showing before the end of the year. It wasn't me.

I am the class of 1995. That little baby of Jennifer's that could have been mine would be 18 years old now. I will be forty in four years. I am still waiting to grow up. I feel no better off than when I was in the fifth grade.

Well, maybe we are better off as children anyway.

The Greenhouse

2013-04-18T19:44:00.002-06:00

So I went to the Greenhouse today to feel it out. I am not sure if I want to work there, or if I just want to go there and ask questions, and make contacts, or just enjoy the plants.

If I work there I can't just stand there and take it all it. I have to stay busy. If I just visit, then I can walk around, get to know the staff, just stand there and soak it all in.

I talked to one of the people who work there. It turned out to be the son of one of the two owners. It is a family business. He told me how it started as a hobby of his moms. His dad was a farmer, the large urban lot that the greenhouse was located on used to be just one of many large fields of the family farm. There is a Harley Davidson motorcycle shop across the street from the greenhouse today.

I thought about the ten acres one day in the future when it is surrounded by paved streets with streetlights around it. I thought about how I wanted to hand down my greenhouse business to my own son Gabriel. That can still happen.

I loved being in that greenhouse today. But would I love working there?

I am feeling this one out slowly. Maybe I will go back again.

What is left?

2013-04-17T18:22:00.000-06:00

Who am I?

Who writes these words? ...my ego mind? my heart? ...or both?

What am I?

What thing is me? ...is it the brain? is it the heart? or both?

What do I really want?

to be? to love? to know?

I don't know what I want. to be, to love, to know.

I don't know what to say. What to write.

What is left?

A Female French Journalist from New York.

2013-04-16T18:19:00.001-06:00

I shoot like I publish. I pull the trigger first, then I clean up the mess afterwards.

This is how this woman described herself to me, French, Journalist, New York. She had me at woman. Those are some powerful words each on their own, pretty cool all put together.

Anyway, I wrote her an email a while back. As a matter of fact I will just paste in the email I sent to her below. I do realize now looking back on it how dramatic I make it sound. I suppose I was still grieving mostly, for all of it. Still grieving the loss of my son, my marriage and kids, my dream, all the blood sweat and tears I put into making it work.

So I took the email that I sent her and reworked it for the blog here.

//Jennifer,

Perhaps this is not the story you want to hear. I still hope the story ends with a happy ending, but right now it is a very tragic time. There is so much that happened to us that we never published or spoke of to anyone even till this day.

I am writing you from a small bedroom that I rent in the city of Orem, 3 hours away from my ranch. I am unemployed. I have been out of work for almost a year now. I think the unemployment more than anything is the reason my wife has filed for divorce.

I can't find a decent job. I had a sales job for three months or so but it hardly paid my own expenses, let alone my families. The company that hired us canceled their contract and I lost my last underpaid job. My wife and the kids have been living off of her parents since I lost my old job last March.

When I got back from Iraq, I wanted to run away from the problems of the world. I just wanted to escape to the wilderness and live a simple life. Grow/raise my own food, and live happy with my family. It wasn't about being rich, it was just living a less stressful life. It was not less stressful than being in Iraq.

I wanted to escape the oppressiveness of modern life. I wanted to escape the fate of working 20 years in a job that would leave me in combat zones and away from my family nine months out of the year.

I wanted to make a living doing what I loved. I wanted to raise a family, be a good father, and growing plants. I wanted it now. I didn't want to wait to until I could afford it. I knew if I waited I would never be able to afford it. I jumped for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and landed flat on my face, in the mud, with broken bones, and then trampled on with horses, and then birds started pecking me. Then distant thunder.

I made a small shelter off grid that was relatively comfortable to live in year round with very little energy input. It was relatively inexpensive to build. Earthbag is just too labor intensive for enduring for just two people, with one being pregnant a lot.

It can be built for a lot cheaper that what I did for the first run. There is a lot of things I learned construction wise from this at least. Also, I can develop a plan for two grown men, or one man and two women. No offense but we are talking shear physical building power. This is very labor intensive. I imagine that some women may do the work of a man.

The space we had was perfect for a couple. The other 300 square feet we wanted just didn't get built. But I did provide some shelter.

Then the baby started crawling. Then the house got small. I couldn't build as fast as my family was growing. The hardships of trying to get a working homestead up and running can not be exaggerated.

I wanted so badly to break free from the demands of modern society. I did not want to go in to debt, but chopping fire wood got harder and harder each year.We had to finish the house.

There is a cost you must pay. I did not have a large enough budget to complete the project. I thought I could leverage labor and resourcefulness to make up for the difference. I ended up paying the full price by loosing everything.

I lost a child, I lost my wife and kids, I will most likely loose the house in the divorce, I lost my health for a while, I lost my faith, I am in debt now, I feel as if I have lost everything at once.

I am alone, and bewildered as to what I am supposed to do. It's like I am seventeen again.

Gaining the independence I wanted from the homestead is either for wealthy people who can afford to buy what they need to make it work, or for the very poor who have no other options but to live a very hard life.

I will do whatever it takes to try to get it all back, meaning raising my family in peace living a simple life. I feel like I am struggling to survive now.

When I look around and see what options are available to me it makes me so desperate. I have only one goal now, make lots of money in whatever way by whatever means is available to me.

So that is where I am now. There is so much more to the story as far as what my wife and I endured while trying to go off grid. If you are still interested in hearing more let me know.

Thanks,
Geoff//

So that is what I sent her like over a month ago. I honestly was not expecting her to reply. I thought I sounded to crazy, and very desperate for money. Which I was, and am.

Then she just wrote me. It was nice to know she was still interested,

// Hey Geoff,

Would you still talk to me over the phone? You story is a reality for many people who try to go off the grid and I would be honored to learn more from you. How are things doing now? Could you get a job? I hope you're o.k. and please be aware I don't have any judgment on your situation. Let me know if you and your girlfriend are o.k. to talk with me.

take care,

Jxxx//

Maybe she doesn't really read my blog. That's ok. I guarantee the first thing I am probably going to do if I have a girlfriend is blog about it, she means Ellen of course.

Anyway, I was glad to see the story still had wheels. I think it can take off.

So, yes. I would be happy to talk to you on the phone.

Geoff

The Wolf Inside

2013-04-15T21:07:00.002-06:00

I know it's been a bit heavy on the cats lately, so here is one for al'yall K9 lovers out there.

I was talking to a friend.

She said some cool stuff. Among which was the following:

//.....An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.

"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued,

"The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."//

I told my friend that I think my evil wolf ate my good wolf. I am just one bad wolf now.

She wasn't sure if I was kidding or not. She told me that that's not how it works. There are always two sides wrestling good wolf, and bad wolf, yin and yang. Even if one is smaller, it has to be there.

I really do feel like my bad wolf ate my good wolf. I was sort of at peace with that for a while.

Now this whole idea that there is just some weak old skinny hungry good wolf hanging around inside me has got me rethinking the universe.

Why does anyone want to keep an old skinny hungry old evil wolf dog around anyway? If you don't like the wolf put it down, or give it to someone who wants to feed an evil wolf.

I guess I just think if someone has to take care of two dogs, then feed them both the same. Be fair. What if one dog is like a Saint Bernard, and the other is like a Chihuahua? Just feed them fair is what I am saying, treat both them dogs good no matter how you feel about them. One if those two wolves were your kids?

Why do humans punish humans for just being human? What other animal punishes itself for being what it is? All the other animals accept themselves completely. and without any kind of hesitation. There isn't any second guessing or mental dialogue going on. There is no narrative. They just do what they want and don't bother making excuses for themselves.

Perhaps the grandfathers words can be interpreted as in the boy is the one who feeds the wolves. Then it is entirely different. It is saying treat others how you want to be treated. It is basically saying feed the wolf inside me that you want to deal with. If you want my good wolf, feed my good wolf, if you want my bad wolf feed my bad wolf.

I mean if my grandfather said some stuff like that to me, I would know that he means to warn me! Isn't this summarized of a polite indian elders way of saying, "you better stay on my good side kid."

Who feeds the wolves? Does other feed my wolves do I feed my own wolves, or both?

The other thing, is why are the two wolves fighting in the first place? Seriously, is it because someone was feeding one wolf more than the other? Dogs are pretty keen on that kind of stuff.

Is it possible that these two wolves can get along? I know lots of people who have two dogs and they get along. Why are these two wolves fighting? I mean has anyone seen you tube lately? You got squirrels sleeping with cats, and cats licking dogs, and dogs loving ducks, and all kinds of other stuff, why can't these two wolves just get along?

Is there such a thing as evil animals? Or is that just humans reflecting on animals? Why was one wolf evil and one wolf good? What makes an evil wolf evil? Are they born that way? Do they choose to be evil?

If you are of the opinion that there could be evil animals, then perhaps it is not so hard for you to believe in evil people. I don't believe I have ever seen an 'evil' animal. So the whole two wolves thing is based on that whole thing.

In the Moment.

2013-04-12T19:08:00.002-06:00

Sailboats are powered by nature. I went sailing in Utah lake once.

Some of you know the story.

I was a student at BYU, and I really wanted to go sailing. I joined the BYU sailing club for a semester. Yes, they did at one time have a vibrant club I suppose, but when I was there it was like we were stewards of the mothball fleet. The boats were in pretty bad shape, so was the club.

Anyway, it so happens that I took a boat out on Utah lake on my lonesome a few times. So I was feeling pretty good about my skills as a lake sailor. I could turn, and change directions and get my sails just right for maximum speeds. I never took a class, or read a book, but I had a sense for it.

While I had sailed before, I considered myself to be a beginner. Though I did feel confident enough to take a girl out on a date on the boat. I had gone out the day before and got the boat all ready. When I was at the lake the guy who worked there told me that there are no search and rescue people on call. He said "If you get in trouble you may get the guys that charge $75 an hour to come out."

Now I thought he meant I would have to pay for that out of my own pocket. I suppose he could have meant that that was what they charged Utah County. Who knows.

I got the feeling that if anything goes wrong on the date, we were doomed.

So I was careful.

She was excited.

All was good. She likes pirates so I was impressing her with my premo sailing skills. Then, out of nowhere and all of a sudden, a dark grey cloud comes speeding over the mountains. We were only a few yards from the boat doc. The wind hit us like an atomic bomb.

I for the life of me couldn't sail that thing back into the harbor, the direction it was coming from was straight from the direction I wanted to go. Whenever I tried to tack, or turn around, we almost capsized.

I didn't know how far the boat could lean before it becomes a problem. I tried dropping the sails a bit as I turned and managed to get around, but then it is the same problem, the boat is leaning way out and I cant seem to get it in the right direction.

So much for my sailing skills. We kept getting farther and farther from shore. I fought the weather for long enough. I decided I would just sail with the wind and make it across the lake. We didn't realize that right at that point two men in a canoe started paddling to us to try to help us ashore.

That was right before the white caps hit. The wind went from like 50ph to 80mph. It was ocean like waves. I know, I was in the Navy for four years. Once I was in a tsunami off the coast of Japan. I saw waves bigger than an aircraft carrier. It was like a scene from a disaster movie.

I thought our situation wasn't that bad, until the rudder broke. Dry rot. We were in these real choppy waves that were no less than 5 ft tall and with white caps, sometimes bigger. It was almost like being in the surf. We had a small boat in a large lake.

I got an oar and put it in the water to try to keep us out of the troph. I didn't want the boat to list and then capsize. I lowered all the sails except a little one up front just to keep her headed downwind. I wrestled with the oar for a while. I became concerned for our safety.

I decided to cast anchor, keep it out of the troph and just hope we stay afloat at this point. It is a shallow lake. Then the lighting started. We said a few prayers. I got sea sick. I purged because of the sickness. It was pink, because I ate peaches earlier. I even brought some on the boat with me. You know, for the sailboat picnic lunch we were supposed to have. She laughed at me for having pink throw up. "What did you eat?"

Then I saw our oars drifting away. That was when I became what I call upset.

Then the lighting struck again. This time it was scary. I then truly felt we were in a life and death situation. I was scared. She was scared. I was thinking, "I am pretty sure the mast is aluminum, but.... is it really? Aluminum is non conductive, right?" I just kept thinking about how our mast looked like a giant golf club lifted in the air. I felt like that character in the movie Powder. The lighting was coming for me.

We decided to ditch the boat. Mostly motivated by the discomfort of sea sickness, and not knowing how long the storm would last. We wore our life vests, and I tied her to me with a rope. Then I just started swimming, my main objective was to get away from the boat. I found it was easier to swim upwind for some reason. Maybe it was something about the waves that pulled us down and upwind faster than swimming downwind. Or at least that is what it felt like.

I felt a ton better once we were in the water. It was warm when we first got in. It was like bath water. I think it must have been like 80 degrees. As the storm progressed the temperature dropped in hours. The motion sickness isn't the same when your in the water for some reason.

We swam together for a long time. After a while I swam and towed her behind. For a while everything was ok. We both had the sense to not take on the boat we couldn't go without or wouldn't survive a dip in the water. The embarrassment at this point was the biggest loss.

Then I saw the planes, and the helicopter, and the boats, and the jet skis all out searching for us.

We were only two more hours of swimming from shore. I felt fine. I knew I could do it and go out for pizza afterwards. She was getting cold. Of course we waved to get their attention. But I dreaded the thought of getting a crazy bill from the search and rescue guys. They searched for us for hours. I just kept swimming. Edith would give me updates. They couldn't see us because of the waves. I think the plane finally found us and radioed our position to the jet skiers, because they came in straight and fast.

I was secretly hoping we could sneak back to shore without them finding us. I didn't get permission from the club to take the boat out that day. I sort of just did it. I was really worried about getting in trouble for that. It's a strict school.

So anyway. They rescuers are on to us. They get to our boat. They find a single sandle and a peach floating in the water next to the now capsized boat. They feared the worst, the scene was ominous. The plane must have found us soon after that, because the darn jet ski rescue guys found us.

Two huge jet skis come rolling up on us and stop all of a sudden, and splash water all over us. This guy yells out in a heroic line like it's from a scene in an action line. You know he has been waiting his whole life for this moment. He is finally going to save a hot chic. He yells "Give me your hand!"

He grabs her hand, and pulls and then I am like,

"STOP!!! Edith, don't give him your hand."

They all stopped, and looked at me like I was crazy. It was like somebody just pushed the pause button on the action scene they were in, switches the movie to comedy and presses play again. They had shocked looks on their faces.

She screams over the hum of the engines "Why?"

I knew I could swim to shore. So if this astronomical rescue bill is something I am going to have to pay, I am going to keep swimming. So I ask, "Are you the guys that charge $75 an hour?"

"What?"

"Are you the guys that charge $75 an hour? Am I going to have to pay for this?"

"NO!" He looks at me like it's the most insane thing anyone has ever said to him.

"Edith, Give him your hand!" I shout, and the action scene resumes. Except this time without as much drama, and a little resentment towards me by the two male jet skier rescue guys. I guess I did steal their rescue scene. I was glad to be getting home. We swam for hours, but she didn't get hypothermia until she was in the rear jet ski getting splashed by the waves at 70mph. That was cold.

Anyway, yeah, we were saved. All I had to do now was keep the unauthorized boat use to go undetected by the Sailing club and I will be just fine. It's the weekend, I may be able to pull it off.

When we got back to the boat doc there were two news crews there. Dang. Slow news day. I encouraged her to keep moving past the photographers, but she couldn't. She was swept up by the flashing. She even paused for pictures, gave them her name, and an interview.

When they got in my face and asked me my name I acted like an old school mafia don. I put a hand over the camera and pushed the cameraman, and said no comments no pictures please. He backed off. I broke free, and left her to be the center of attention.

She was on the front page of two local papers the next day, and in an article not on the front page in a third paper. She gave them my name too. Someone said there was video of us on the nightly news. Luckily no picture of me on the front page at least. I was pretty anxiety stricken by the publicity. I hoped no one from the Sailing Club would read the papers. I suppose I was always a rebel.

Later that week as I was trying to figure out how to get the boat back when I got a call on the phone from the Utah County Sheriff. I thought the Sailing Club called the cops on me. I mean, you hope for a surprise party, but you know it could also be your execution.

Luckily, he was informing me that he and another officer had pulled in 'my boat'. He told me they recovered the canoe. Both of those guys who tried to save us made it back to shore. They also recovered a third small boat as well. I thanked him, hung up the phone, and waited for my heart attack to subside.

I did manage to get the boat back, and eventually repair all damages without anyone ever knowing.

From the minute I cast off into that lake I had no idea what was going to happen. I can see how it all unfolded slowly at first, moment by moment, but then it was like someone put a blindfold on me. I couldn't see my future anymore.

Is life like this?

Maybe we do the best we can but sometimes storms take us places we never wanted to go. Sometimes we are washed ashore on beaches we never intended to visit. Isn't that what makes movies so good?

The same thing that makes movies good is what makes real lives horrible, but beautiful at the same time. You know you see the scene when some happy life is cruising right along, and then disaster strikes. We enjoy watching how they piece their lives together in the face of an impossible challenge. That's a good movie. Not a good life.

This is a true account of an experience I really went through. I am sure that if someone wanted to they could back up my story. But I have told this story the same for years and have witnesses to that fact. Now you see how crazy things happen to me all the time.

P.S. I will often post stuff before my 13 or 14th re-read for typos. I can't seem to get rid of them. I just wanted you to know that I correct them as often as I find them. So the typos eventually get polished, and the grammar and spelling and wording gets refined over time. Adios.

Fists of words.

2013-04-11T19:02:00.004-06:00

I was young when I first used my words as fists.

Brian was the funniest kid in school. The last thing any kid at that school wanted was to be made fun of by Brian in front of a large group of kids. It was weird how all the other kids would go along with it as long as they weren't the one being made fun of. The victim offered up like some sacrifice by the crowd. The other kids would usually join in the hazing for days and weeks and sometimes months afterwards.

Brian had a talent for finding peoples insecurities, flaws, embarrassing facts or whatever is going to hurt or embarrass you the most. In many ways it was more humiliating than getting beat up, because it is more personal. He could be wicked cruel when he wanted.

My family was poor. We didn't have the cool clothes. We had obvious second hand style and were often the focal point of much social rebuke because of it. Brian was the worst of them. Whenever I tried to make fun of Brian in retaliation, it always backfired and was turned on me again ten fold. I swear he went home and practiced his one liners in the mirror. He must have benefited from older brothers or some other act of divine luck. I thought it might be better to just take it in silence.

They let into our clothes right away. Wearing K-mart clothes were a sin apparently. I just stood there listening to them make fun of me and my little sister. They started to make fun of my sisters hair, and I just snapped.

I didn't swing a punch, but if words were fists, I kicked Brian's a$$ that day. I don't even remember what I said, or how I managed to do it, but I rattled off a string of insults I have no idea where they came from.

There was something that bothered me about Brian's chin. I often wondered why no one bothered to address it before. It was real saggy, I swear to me it looks like down's syndrome chin.

At first my tirade was scoffed, then it got silent. Then Brian actually began to tear up. I think it was when I said something about down's syndrome and his chin. I am sure my honesty came across when I told him that when I first saw him I actually thought he was retarded. That and the fact that I had clenched both my fists and was practically in a blind rage was enough to silence them. Maybe he knew it was true. Maybe he had a brother or sister with down's syndrome. For whatever reason when I said he looked like he had down's syndrome, that was when he started to tear up.

I saw I had him defeated, and let him off the hook so he could try and save face in front of his toadies. Him and his small following evaporated with the ring of the bell. My sister and I continued to walk to our classes. Brian never made fun of me or my little sister again. I never bragged about it to anyone, nor did I ever rub it in his face. But I taught him that I demand respect.

As a matter of fact, Brian and I would later become friends. We were fellow revolutionaries sitting in the back of the class and giving the teacher hell. There was a band of us pirates that had a healthy and rational disdain for authority.

There has been a fight or two I have talked myself out of, but mostly my words get me into trouble. That is why I write. It is the least destructive thing I want to be doing right now.

I don't know how to move on.

So I write.

I was about 12 years old when me and a friend were looking for quarters in a neighborhood laundry mat when two older and much larger boys trapped us in the building. There was no one else present except the four of us. I was terrified of this one guy. I knew he was violent and he looked crazy.

For no good reason this guy attacked me while his friend stood at the door. I was paralyzed with fear, and didn’t fight back. He punched me in the head and face repeatedly, my blocks were pointless. After a while he was straddling me as I lay on my back on the concrete floor of the laundry mat. He was banging my head against the concrete repeatedly as hard as he could. That is when it occurred to me that he was really trying to kill me.

I fought for my life. I started to resist in any way I could. I went for his face. After a moment or two in this life and death struggle, this guy’s friend finally pulls him off of me. Ever since then, I don't like feeling backed against the corner, and if I do, I am going to come out swinging every time.

I vowed that day, that I would always fight back, no matter how hopeless or pointless the fighting back was.

After the two bullies had left, I turned to the friend that was with me. I was angry and disappointed that he just stood there passively and watched while I almost got killed by this freak. "Why the f&$% didnt you help me you A$$h%$#?"

"What could I do? He could have kicked my a$$ too man. He could beat us up both at the same time." I knew he had a point, but I resented his cowardice.

"We could have fought him off together at least." He could have tried to run for help. He could have made it out a window. I wouldn't have just watched. I pushed him and told him he was no longer my friend. I walked out and never played with that kid again. I figured I was just as well off on my own than with a friend like that.

That is why I write.

I am swinging my fists in the air, backed in a corner. If I am going down, then I am going down swinging.

ENFJ's darkside.

2013-04-11T18:22:00.001-06:00

An ENFJ's Weaknesses Are:
ENFJs thrive on recognition and appreciation and it is important to them that they feel they are liked. They often talk around issues or are less than direct and honest in an attempt to avoid conflict. ENFJs may sacrifice their own needs and make choices that are not in their own best interests in order to please others. By choosing not to see the facts that contradict their idealistic view of other people, they may end up disappointed and hurt.

ENFJs sometimes rush through the information collecting stage, due to their eagerness to have things decided and projects finished, and might make hasty or flawed decisions. It is important for ENFJs to appear capable, organized, and in control at all times and they may hesitate asking for help or admitting they need to start over. Approaching projects with a clearer sense of the logical steps necessary to make them a success will help them avoid making mistakes or committing to causes they might later regret.

Things to watch out for...
The ENFJs optimistic outlook toward social relationships is a burden to them at times. When external conflicts affect a group, the ENFJ is likely to assume responsibility. Their ability to empathize then turns into a liability. ENFJs, when over-identifying with the pain of others, will lose sight of their own concerns and interests. Their idealism can also be the cause of some distress when their assumptions are unable to weather the winds of reality. Fantasized relationships rarely translate into reality and even the best charismatic leader encounters unexpected resistance.

ENFJs will disassociate themselves from stressful situations in an effort to protect their sense of well-being and togetherness. The ENFJ, however, will repress the unpleasant side of life only to have to face it later in an intensified form when it explodes from its hiding place. It can manifest itself as fits of anger, sudden outbursts, or emotional explosions. Often the ENFJ's body will reflect pent-up stress by manifesting various physical symptoms that will erupt unexpectedly. Other concerns to watch for are:

becoming rigidly narrow in their perceptions when under stress
making decisions too quickly before gathering all the facts
becoming excessively critical of self and others when stressed
taking criticism personally instead of accepting it as a learning experience
seeing their world in a black-and-white manner
taking on too many projects at once and feeling overwhelmed
becoming bored with repetitious tasks and making mistakes
letting conflicts build rather than being direct and up front
seeing people as you wish they were, rather than as they really are

Developmental Needs: ENFJs may need to develop an ability to manage conflict in a productive manner. When the facts warrant it, ENFJs need to learn to set aside personal relationships and feelings in order to obtain an objective view. They may need to recognize that people have limitations and that blind loyalty is not always appropriate.
...................................

Yeah, that fits just about right. I would say that is what happened. There is the non stressed version of ENFJ and the stressed version. Every personality type reverts to a different pattern when under a lot of stress.

Jobs for ENFJ's

2013-04-10T23:18:00.000-06:00

Possible Career Paths for the ENFJ:

Facilitator

Consultant

Psychologist

Social Worker / Counselor

Teacher

Clergy

Sales Representative

Human Resources

Manager

Events Coordinator

Sales Representative

Politicians / Diplomats

Writers

Uhhhh...

I choose Diplomat. Followed by politician.

Crap...

...I know I am going to get stuck with writer.

So for the entire four years this blog has been running, I have made $300. Yeah! Proud accomplishment from me, considering the obscurity of it's birth.

In the last month alone I have made almost $100. That can be a huge thing. If I were to maintain current traffic, I may actually earn enough money that it could make a difference. If I can keep enough you you interested in my train wreck for a lot longer, it might actually improve my situation.

Let me put it this way. The money from this blog could actually have enough impact on my life that it will dramatically change the outcome of the story your reading on it. Think about that for a second.

Everybody likes a happy ending right?

So if your feeling guilty for watching my train wreck, don't be. Your helping me put food on the table. No, really, food. I'm hungry.

The sad part of that news is I can now call myself a paid writer. Yeah!

It only took four years of online journal writing and blam! Money in my hand. Now I am sitting on a mountain of gold, and secrets. So your invited to gawk away, peep away, judge away, but most importantly is keep reading away. Do you want to see naked pictures of my soon to be ex-wife?

No just kidding. I really don't have any pictures like that, and as angry as I am I would never do that.

Unless I was paid a lot of money.

What I am trying to say is "Haters gon hate, but I ain't trying to hear that."

or maybe it's more like "Even if you don't like Die Antwoord, you like Die Antwoord."

Or it's like "If I had to explain it, you wouldn't understand anyway."

P.S.

So, is there anyone else out there who listens to Vampire Weekend? How about Di Antwoord? One, or the other or both, or none?

ENFJ

2013-04-10T19:56:00.003-06:00

I am seeing two VA counselors.

One a man, the other a woman.

I have told them both about my blog. Neither one of them have ever looked at it. Oh well.

Anyway, the woman talks most of the visit. Then I go to the man and he talks most of the visit. I don't hear a word their saying. Blah blah blah. I just keep thinking, "darn, aren't you supposed to be listening".

She likes to talk about the Middle East, and he is always interjecting crazy hypothesis as to why things happened the way they did and how I must be feeling. Mostly I feel like he doesn't even remember me from appointment to appointment let alone have me 'figured out.' I swear he has confused my back story with someone from Montana.

Man they say the craziest stuff. Some people tell me it is because I have 'bad counselors' and that if you get a good one, you can connect with that person and it goes real well. I don't know. I don't have a lot of options as far as what counselors I can afford to see. I just have to take what's being given. (in more ways than one.)

There was one thing that I thought was interesting.

The guy counselor said I am a cat who has been trying to fit into a dog's world for too long. I thought that sounded cool. I don't think he knows how much I like cats. Maybe the guy from Montana likes cats too.

I resonate with cats. Cat's make sense to me. They don't offend me or threaten me. I get cats. I like dogs. I just prefer the company of cats. Can't help it, it's just the way it is, always has been. Dogs are like soldiers, and cats are like mountain men. Dogs are like police and cats are like investigative journalists. Cats are like musicians and dogs are like football players. I know that all people can't be divided up into two simple groupings like cats and dogs. ...or can they?

One hunts alone, the other hunts in a pack. I have always hunted alone. I don't do well in packs. I get my fur all miffed. Unless I am the alpha dog I only serve to be a disruptor in groups with rigid power structures. It just happens. This happens even when I honestly don't want it to. Somehow, as if by magic, something happens that will remind me how ill equipped I am to handle the daily savageries of office politics. I almost always end up on the chewed up end of the dogpack, and I hate that.

So this counselor told me to go home and do some research on my personality type. What jobs do people who share my personality enjoy? Where do all the cats hang out?

So I am reading this description of ENFJ and I am like, how could anyone not get along with me? Wow, this is like scientifically determined somehow right? I mean seriously, are any of you flattered to tickles with your own personality type or is it just me?

I mean all people have to do here is read a description of an ENFJ and know that I was not the problem. Honestly, all people have to do is read my personality type and they will be wondering "who couldn't get along with that guy?"

When we got married, some good friends of ours got us this personality book about the ENFJ stuff. We read it eagerly. At the time we were both pretty excited as to figuring each other out. But mostly we debated back and forth with ourselves as to whether the descriptions of our own personality type accurately portrayed us or not. I can't even remember her type. I know it is I, and we had at least one in common. If I were to guess it would be INFP.

What is really that different about cat's and dogs anyway? How different are we from each other?

Below I pasted from http://psychology.about.com/od/trait-theories-personality/a/enfj.htm. This is the standard ENFJ personality description.

-------------pasted-----------------
ENFJ is one of the 16 different personality types identified by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. People with this personality type are often described as warm, outgoing, loyal and sensitive. Psychologist David Keirsey suggests that approximately two to five percent of all people have an ENFJ personality.

ENFJ Characteristics

The MBTI assesses preferences across four different dimensions: 1) Extraversion and Introversion, 2) Sensing and Intuition, 3) Thinking and Feeling and 4) Perceiving and Judging. As you have probably guessed, the ENFJ acronym represents Extraversion, Intuition, Feeling and Judging.

Extraversion: ENFJs have an outgoing personality and enjoy spending time with other people. Being in social settings helps them feel energized.

Intuition: ENFJs like to think about the future rather than the present. They may often become so focused on the larger goal that they lose sight of the immediate details.

Feeling: ENFJs place a stronger emphasis on personal, subject considerations rather than objective criteria when making decisions. How a decision will impact others is often a primary concern.

Judging: ENFJs are organized and enjoy structure and careful planning. Sticking to a predictable schedule helps ENFJs feel in control of the world around them.

Some common ENFJ characteristics include:

Prefers harmony to discord
Outgoing and warm-hearted
Genuinely interest in the feelings of others
Often have a diverse range of friends and acquaintances
Great at supporting and encouraging others
Excellent organizers
Seek approval from other people

ENFJs are strong extraverts; then sincerely enjoy spending time with other people. They have great people skills and are often described as warm, affectionate and supportive. Not only are people with this personality type great at encouraging other people, they also derive personal satisfaction from helping others.

Because of their strong communication and organizational skills, ENFJs can make great leaders and managers. They are good at organizing activities, helping each group member achieve their potential and resolving interpersonal conflicts. They strive to create harmony in all situations, and always seem to know what to do to ease tensions and minimize disagreements.

ENFJs are often so interested in devoting their time to others that they can neglect their own needs. They also have a tendency to be too hard on themselves, blaming themselves for when things go wrong and not giving themselves enough credit when things go right. Because of this, it is important that people with this personality type regularly set aside some time to attend to their own needs.

Famous People With ENFJ Personalities

Some experts have suggested that the following famous individuals exhibit characteristics of the ENFJ personality type based on analysis of their lives and works:

Abraham Lincoln, U.S. president
Sean Connery, actor
Dennis Hopper, actor
Diane Sawyer, journalist
Johnny Depp, actor
Oprah Winfrey, TV personality
Abraham Maslow, psychologist
Ronald Reagan, U.S. president
Peyton Manning, football player
Barack Obama, U.S. president

------end pasted section--------------

So who is not going to be flattered with a list like this? I think if they are going to make a list of famous people with this personality trait, they should give both the good and the bad. How funny would it be to see a personality description like:

You share a personality type with famous people like:

Hitler
Mother Theresa
Stalin
Ronald Reagan
Fidel Castro
Ted Bundy
Johnny Cash

Then it is more obvious that not only is any kind of 'success' uncertain, but even when you are successful your success may not be understood or appreciated by others. People may still remember you as the evil dictator, even if you were cool

The stuff below here is a little more than a blunt description of ENFJ. Below is from http://www.personalitypage.com/html/ENFJ_car.html
---------------------pasted--------------------------
ENFJs generally have the following traits:

Genuinely and warmly interested in people

Value people's feelings

Value structure and organization

Value harmony, and good at creating it

Exceptionally good people skills

Dislike impersonal logic and analysis

Strong organizational capabilities

Loyal and honest

Creative and imaginative

Enjoy variety and new challenges

Get personal satisfaction from helping others

Extremely sensitive to criticism and discord

Need approval from others to feel good about themselves

As long as ENFJ's are in a supportive environment which they can work with people and are presented with sufficient diverse challenges to stimulate their creativity, they should do very well.

The following list of professions is built on our impressions of careers which would be especially suitable for an ENFJ. It is meant to be a starting place, rather than an exhaustive list. There are no guarantees that any or all of the careers listed here would be appropriate for you, or that your best career match is among those listed here.

Possible Career Paths for the ENFJ:

Facilitator

Consultant

Psychologist

Social Worker / Counselor

Teacher

Clergy

Sales Representative

Human Resources

Manager

Events Coordinator

Sales Representative

Politicians / Diplomats

Writers

------------end pasted section--------------

Uhhhh...

I choose Diplomat.

Land Yachts

2013-04-08T18:32:00.000-06:00

Land Yacht

I am sharing pictures stored in a file I have been keeping called Land Yacht.

The wind in Tecoma Valley is so strong, I tried to think of ways to turn it into a positive. Other than generating electricity the next coolest idea is land yachting.

Land Yachts are nothing new, they are used in a handful of places across the world. There are plenty of youtube videos on them, as well as google images, and websites you can visit. Essentially it is sailing on the land. Normally in a flat area like a beach or dry lake bed. The Goldsborough homestead is real close to the Salt Flats.

I always wondered what sport I could find in the flats, so I would look upon them as a treasure to play in and not as a burden to cross. I paused from a high vantage point more than once along my way, just to stop and view the salt flats at the breaking dawn. Although, there is not a time of day or night that the view is less than stunning.

What did it look like when it was full? A huge inland sea, ready to be sailed to distant far off places? The flats can be sailed just like water!

Most of the land yachts I have seen are small one or two seaters. I had something a bit more ambitious in mind. A land yacht for a crew. At the very least I thought it would be something cool to do with friends.

You could sail out to the middle of nowhere, see almost everything around you as far as the eye can see, know you are completely alone, and just hang out, have some fun, and sail back when you want. Or just in case a small motor to take you back if no wind.

I imagine huge sleek, limousines like vessels with tall rigid winged sails that can coast the small vessel at a good speed with one hundred people on board. I think this would be very cool.

I still think the steady wind we get on the flats can make it some kind of national headquarters for land yachting or something.

I mean why don't more people in the area land yacht?

Anonymous Writes...

2013-04-08T18:05:00.000-06:00

Writes Anonymous:

Originally I wrote this as a response to your post "Existential Crisis" or "The Voice of God 3", but it was too long so I figured I'd send you an e-mail. I can relate on a certain level, though my story is different, it's pretty similar in the way I've been turned around. I was raised in a certain exclusive //blank// church.

Growing up, we never missed a day of church. Sunday Morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night. Of course we wouldn't want to miss the singing's. They were strictly non-instrumental; acapella only, they were proud of that. Anyway it distinguished us from other churches, and based on a few other points based on the "original" church, it made us exclusively 'right.'

Therefore other Christians weren't really Christians. I considered myself very lucky to have been born into this exclusive church. I knew God must really love me. When I was 16 my faith started to become my own and I started to question why other people weren't considered true Christians. Why were all of my friends who were good people (lots of them better than I was) going to hell?

It didn't make sense to me, but the people who had left the church, seemingly only did so to act out, and I didn't want to do that, I just wanted to be a good person and make sense of the world around me. I didn't agree with their ideology, but I didn't want to upset my parents and get a bad reputation. I went there for 3 more years until I switched colleges to one out of town, 3 hours away.

I still made appearances at a local Church of Christ in the western part of the state to keep up the facade that I went there when the parents visited. I was too scared to have them think I had "fallen away" and the drama that would undoubtedly ensue. I only stayed at Western for a semester.

When I came back home I didn't have a job to get my own place yet, so I moved back in with my parents. I went to their church again, but this time I wanted to phase out gently. Knowing their beliefs, I knew it would take a while. So I started going to a different church on Saturday nights from time to time, which was hard for them to accept because Saturday wasn't really the Lord's day (yet they went on Wednesdays, it wasn't a 'real' service...*sigh*). When the time came for me to visit a different church on a Sunday morning, I asked them in the best way I could if I could visit another church, and my father responded with an ultimatum.

It was "come to our church, or leave the house." This hit me really hard. My parents cared more about me going to their church than they did about our relationship. My then girlfriend (now wife) had been going there and I was ready to have a fun church experience. It was in a theater, there was rock music, and lots of people going there my age. But if I went there, I wouldn't have a home to go back to.

I didn't have a job that I could support myself on, I was just waiting tables. But I decided it was high time for me to step up and make a stand in my beliefs. So I did, I went to that church, it was cool. Though, I thought that God would make an appearance and say "Son, you did what was right, you stood up for what you believe about me." Which in hindsight was pretty naive. I didn't have a transformative message delivered to me. I did feel pretty broken that I might not have a home to go to, but I didn't regret my decision whatsoever. Surprisingly, they didn't kick me out.

But over the course of a year we had some pretty heated arguments about what the father tells the son to do and who God really was and how I was right/wrong. It was the most difficult year I had experienced in my life. I eventually moved out at the beginning of 2008 and got married a few months after. I made my own decisions, and felt pretty faithful to God.

I read books about God, about the relationship I was supposed to have with Jesus, how to pray, about how to be a better person. I was doing the best I imagined I could.

My wife had a really tough experience with a Christian counselor a few months after we got married. The counselor pried deep into her past, and really drew out some emotions about how she had been raped, taken advantage of, and some other baggage. It was incredibly tough on her, to the point where she forgot how good our life was, and tried to kill herself several times.

I had to hide knives, alcohol, cleaning fluids. We had an incredibly frightening experience that I would only call (and I don't use this word lightly, and I'm not crazy) demonic.

After things became that real, that dangerous, her counselor's husband who was also a Christian counselor took over. One of the terms she was most afraid of while being so emotionally raw was the term "burden." She didn't want to be a burden to anyone, this was a phrase she was frightened that she might hear from someone she cared about while she was in this state. Both counselors knew this.

And when things got too heavy and she tried to kill herself the third time, the male counselor dropped that word during a session. She was devastated. For me, it was the most difficult period I'd experienced, more so than the whole fallout with my parents.

I was terrified for her, and wanted to be as supportive as possible in this uncharted territory. Then she got pregnant 6 months into our marriage. This was a surprise, she was on the pill. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't ready to be a dad, she wasn't ready to be a mother, she wasn't emotionally stable enough.

8 weeks later we went to go hear the heartbeat for the first time, we were coming to terms with this new idea, and maybe it could help us get our lives on track. We would have to change but we were ready to. When we went to hear the heartbeat and the nurse went searching for it, there was nothing.

The baby had died. We were now 6 months into our relationship and we've already been through the worst, then we lost a child. I wondered where God was in all this, but I decidedly kept my faith strong, I tried to make sense of it.

I just knew it had to be me. Something I was doing wrong. I must not be close enough to God to deserve this.

I studied harder, became more devout, became part of the church team, lead worship in the church band, lead small groups for teenagers and adults my age.

I just knew God would pull through after all my efforts.//////

Geoff here. I just wanted to say thanks for sharing the email above. I changed some identifying information for you but kept most of it the same. Thanks.