People speak of finding one’s purpose in life.
I often wonder what mine is.
Truth be told---
I haven’t a clue.
And maybe I don’t need to know.
Maybe it’s enough just to live as a decent human being and take life as it comes. I think the whole “Finding your purpose” thing is just a way to sell books. If I’m going to buy books, they will have trains in them or good poetry or stories from the Llano Estacado.
Sometimes I’ve felt that I just wander aimlessly through this existence, yet there has been much gentle steerage from unseen---but not unfelt—forces. They have guided me around and let me see enough of my dark side to know that THAT is not where I want to be.
I’ve known love, perhaps when I didn’t deserve it.
And I’ve known pain, most of which I earned.
And then there’s the whole forgiveness thing. I’ve received, thankfully, more than my share of it from those who matter the most. It is that which has allowed me to be who I am today. You know who you are, and I am eternally grateful.
Faith, for me, is like the wind---
It is fickle.
Some days it rages true.
Other days it is barely there at all.
Only stillness---
Crickets.
I have no idea where I’m going when it all ends, or even if there’s any place to go at all.
My lack of arrogance prevents me from claiming that I DO know with all certainty that I’ll end up in a ‘good place’ when I take my final breath.
I’ll find out when the time comes. I’m in no hurry.
But I do know this:
Life has a way of preparing you for what comes in the future.
The current iteration of my life began 18 years ago today. Sobriety was a foreign concept for me.
The days leading up to it were dark indeed.
I didn’t know what to do with myself without a cocktail in my hand and a buzz swimming around in my brain.
What did sober people even do?!
Suddenly, being able to down a half gallon of Canadian whiskey in one sitting wasn’t a ‘thing’ anymore.
Again---What did sober people even DO?!
They did all the things that I could only dream of doing.
They went places I could only dream of going---
Met people I could only dream of meeting---
And made friends I could only dream of making.
They didn’t have to discover who they were, because they had been living their true self all along.
So, today I’m 18 years old. My knees feel like they are chronologically 63, but in my mind I’m still just a kid.
Sobriety has allowed me to live in THIS moment, and every moment before for the past 18 years.
It has allowed me to feel every loss and every tear.
To laugh honest and true.
To love deeper.
To know humility.
I’ve gone those places, and have more places to go.
I’ve met those people, and have more to meet.
And I’ve made friends of so many.
And then there’s Connie. I haven’t words big enough or meaningful enough to describe that love in its fullest. But I shall keep trying.
But most of all it has allowed me to reconnect with my true self. I feel like I have a lot of lost time to make up for.
I take a lot of train pictures and hoard them; there’s so much the world hasn’t seen yet. I take photos and then I’m like “Hey! That’s cool! There’s a story in there somewhere that someday I’ll write.”
WOW! The “somedays” are beginning to stack up.
But, hey!---
I’m living my best life---
EVER!
And in that life, we ALL have unseen wars that we fight. We’re bruised and battered and shattered and the wind whistles through the jagged holes. Some days we’re mere fragments that need a bit of TLC to duct tape us back together.
But our light beams out through the holes as well.
It refracts off the shards as a prism, letting every color in the universe shine out through us.
Keep letting it shine.
Love to all of you.
---Rick
*
There are fragments
And shards of life
A collection of wounds unseen
And jagged holes to let out the light
The wind moans
OH! How the wind does moan
It comes as memories unmerciful
And best left forgotten
A haunting from beyond the grave
Of past lives not well-lived
Of agony and pain
And days of darkness
Yet we breathe still
And love
Always love
---RAM
Rick Malo©2025