Thought for today....

Every person has something to teach......Every person has something to learn.

It is with every waking morning that i realize I still have much more to learn than I can ever teach.

Sometimes we just have to smile, breathe, and move forward the best we can.

Ok...now I am mad!

I watched a news story this morning about an idiot that is a fitness trainer that put on 78 pounds in 6 months to prove that he could lose the weight and get back in shape. He is writing some stupid book called "Fit to Fat to Fit". So what really set me off is that they were interviewing his wife (who seriously needed a sandwich and a candy bar because she looked like she could slip down the shower drain) and she said that when he had gained the weight he became lazy and a stopped being a good father that interacted with his kids or helped her around the house. Now, here is the thing about these idiots; I am overweight....VERY overweight. I help my wife do all sorts of things around the house, work two jobs, and I am an awesome father to my spoiled kids! Yeah, Im no good for running a marathon, playing sports, or fitting in the itty bitty booths at most restaurants, but you know, just because I am fat, does not mean I am some worthless lump-bum that does nothing all day but sit around and eat. These two idiots can kiss my big fat butt.......

Money and kids

You know, I just don't understand why it seems like so many selfish people have so much money. I work hard, have two jobs, pay my bills, and still my kids only want to go to other homes where its "fun" because they have a basement or playroom and their parents run them all over creation spending money to "entertain" them. OK first, this is why we have a nation full of spoiled brats! When I was bored as a kid, I went outside... that's the place on the other side of your windows kids...(windows are those things that let in light to your room, not the TV)  then I would find something to do. Play in the dirt, explore, draw in the sand, climb a tree, or whatever. Then if I was fortunate enough to have another kid within walking distance, we would find stuff to do together. Talking, running, you know ....playing stuff. We didn't text or Facebook, we actually saw each other in person! My kids have endless movies, computers, video games, board games, books, pets, and satellite TV. I am part of the problem, I spend all my money giving them all these things to keep them from getting "bored" and they still are bored and want to be somewhere else. I would LOVE to be home, watching or playing something, eating whatever I want, instead of working night and day! If I actually said I was bored as a kid, my mom or grandparents would give me work to do. Sweeping, mopping, yard work, farming, or something constructive. I just get so frustrated that I do all of this, and still feel like I am not providing my kids with enough "things" to keep them happy. Maybe I should be like other people I know and turn selfish. Take all the stuff away from them, boot out the two adult-children that sleep at my house and take up two rooms with no contribution, and make me a fun room where my wife and I go to to avoid "being bored". Hey, don't I deserve to have fun? I guess not. Sometimes...kids suck.

Humanity

Where has all the humanity gone? Why is the world collapsing in on itself? In the fast pace of bigger, faster, better, gimme, gimme, gimme, we have lost our way. There are those that abuse the system, have evil intentions, and seem undeserving of empathy and compassion. But, the honest truth is that we are all that person on any given day, in certain situations. I work with drug addicts, societies imagined scum of the earth, but I am here to tell you that I have found more heart, more promise, and more potential for triumph in my patients than in any outside arena. I hope that one day the world will understand that they will be judged the way they judge and that often the best things in life aren't things, but life itself.

Misc Info

I have had a pretty adventurous life up to this point. Many injuries, sports fun, great stories of friends, sadness, loss, luck, and have tried many things. Some I have failed at and some I did ok. My favorite success was in my early 20's (back in the 1990's) I was fortunate enough to be able to sing for a heavy metal band in south Alabama. My friends and I had a good time and had a lot of adventures along the way. Why does this matter? Well, I love to write. Stories, poems, and songs. Now I have done a lot of growing up and changing since those days. But I still listen to the music, keep up with current trends, and do many solo concerts in my truck while I am driving =) so here is a little ditty that I wrote about a year ago when I was feeling frustrated because a dear friend of mine took his life after the PTSD of war in the Middle East. I was angry because he wanted help, and his superiors didn't listen. So this was my frustration...

Blood And Sand

(Spoken)I feel so alive as I tighten the grip and the light escapes your eyes

(1)

 You bury the truth behind faith and greed

You justify war that will never be free

You shackle the poor as the ignorant fall

While counting deposits you stole from us all

(2)

The choice has been made on the day we were born

To fight and survive or submit and be torn

[I need to know….]

When you close your eyes do the flames caress your neck?

Are there pleas for redemption or signs of regret?

(3)

[I- see- the]

face of a friend with a demon inside

You promise us dreams wrapped up tight in a lie

The enemy closer than we even know

The cameras are rolling so on with the show.

(chorus)

Over and over again, the price of a man nothing more than blood and sand

AhhHHHhhHHh I feel so alive, as I tighten my grip and the light fades from your eyes.

(break down)

[How- do –you-] discount the lives, dispatch the lies, mow down the innocent without reprise

Overlook pain, the crimson stain, put the gun in your mouth let me imprint my name!

(chorus 2)

OH, over and over again, the price of a life nothing more than blood and sand

AhhHHhhHH I feel so alive as I tighten my grip till the blood pours from your eyes

Over and over again, the extinction of man buried under oil and sand

The smile I can’t hide as I tighten my grip and the life drains from your eyes

[Repeat/variation]

Older short story (Horror)

Blackberries

Dustin Vick

2009/ Revised 9/2010

     The South still holds many secrets. There are woods that are vacant of man here. The old homesteads are overgrown and history slumbers beneath the red Alabama clay. It lies covered by the pine dross and dry sands, forgotten. Beneath the thickets of briar bushes and the hollows lay the ghosts of lost seasons. They moan, scarred by misappropriated pride, it fuels restless sleep. Unsettled transgressions remain, due to the fallacies of man. The ground cries out for retribution, for blood, a penance for the hate and the apathy. Ignorant greed leaves behind the destruction of so many human souls. The earth rumbles for the pain and the guns, the whips and man-made salvation. These blend into a deadly concoction of emotion and pride that has left the forests bruised and grieving. The screams flow in the slow undercurrent of winds passing over the fields and filters away into nothing. The humidity seems like a wet blanket of sorrow, and my breath is hot and shallow. I had never been one for deep imaginings, or conflicts of the past but still I find myself sitting alone in this forest, alone, but flooded with these impressions of the sadness and the loss. I close my eyes trying to hear the echoes of fleeting happy memories, but they escape my understanding, the stillness brings no comfort, only apprehension and fear. In the end we all have to pay the band, face the music, or any other generic term you can insert to mean the past always catches up with you. Where do I find solace for my sins, whatever they may be? The tire swing sways empty by the large oak, and strands of golden hair caught in the rope are now bleached brown by the summer sun. Are my hands stained with uncaring, or scarred with the prints of my ears from refusing to listen to the painful truth? Am I just looking for an excuse to cry?

      I saw death outside of the gas station five summers ago. I had to use the bathroom and daddy was inside getting me a grape soda. I ran around the back of the store because the bathroom was out back. The dust would kick up in little wisps with my foot fall in the dry heat. I always hated going to that bathroom. It smelled of old urine that had stewed in a hot dark oven. That cinderblock room with all the writing on the wall and the door that never really shut was a source of nightmares and semi-wet panties because I was in such a hurry to get done. I remember having to lean up to hold the door while I went and there was always a roach or cricket scurrying by. Through the cracks of crumbling mortar, I saw death. The man crept around back in his old beat up car with the cracked windshield. I could not tell what the man was doing, but I saw him throw a body into the trash pit and cover it up with leaves and branches. I saw the arm fall out of the linens, and then he tossed a couple of cardboard boxes on top. In the country we have to burn our trash because there is no pick up for it. Most people use an old 55 gallon drum, but the store had a deep pit and when it filled up, it got burned.

     Death was a big sweaty man in a tank-top and a tattoo on his neck. He could not have known I saw him. But I did not know that, so I was terrified he would be coming for me. I waited until he was gone and then I slowly opened the door. I crept out to the fire pit, but I could not see the body, he had covered it up good. I looked down the dirt road in the direction he went and the dust was still swirling. I imagined I heard him laughing. I ran back around to the front of the store. I wanted to tell daddy but I was scared. He asked me what was wrong. I told him there was a spider in the bathroom. He chuckled and tossed my hair back and forth. Fear set in on the drive home, I never told anyone. The pit was burned the next day and nothing was ever said about the body, I guess the bones settled into the deep ashes, so I just tried to forget.

          The blackberries are especially sweet this time of year. The big bulbs of knotted squishy goodness were entangled with the thorny vines. The little golden hairs would sparkle in the sunlight if you held them up just right. You have to be careful picking them though, there are rattlesnakes hiding under the leaves. They wait for me to reach for the sweet fruit, the tempting taste that stains my lips and teeth. Tastes so good, but the possibility of painful death is under every leaf and flower, behind the beauty; waiting. Life is funny that way, things look so good, so safe, so desirable, yet unseen death is always somewhere close by.

     The nightmares were a constant. I could not forget what I had seen behind the gas station. The man’s hulking sweaty arms tossing the body into the pit haunted me. His deep acne scars on his chest and neck were reddish and angry. The colors were overly bright in my dreams. In the end, he would turn to me and smile with his blackened grin of rotted teeth and sliced up gums. I would awake with my heart pounding through my chest, and my sheets dripping with sweat, and tears. I wanted to tell someone so bad, but who would believe a little girl?

     Sleeping with the windows open was something we had to do in the summer. We put big steel fans in the windows to either pull the hot air out, or push the night air in. I liked the air pushing in so that I could feel the dew in the early morning hours. It sprinkled my face with cool drops that felt like angel kisses.

     At the end of summer, it was especially humid and even with the fan; it was hard to sleep sound. It was at least past midnight when the dogs started barking and woke me. I leaned up and put my sweaty face against the fan. All of a sudden the hair stood up on my neck! I looked up and he was staring at me. The stars had framed his face and the horror charged from my deepest dreams to reality. Death had found me. His yellow eyes, blackened teeth, and black greasy hair were illuminated clear in the moonlight. I could feel and smell his breath. It was hot and smelled like tar and garbage. He seethed out the words “I know, and when you are alone, if you ever tell, I will not kill you first, I will kill you last.”

I felt the hot urine trickle down my thigh and settle onto the sheets. He slowly backed away. I was too scared to scream, and would not sleep for two days after.

     My dad was visibly worried, but if I told him, I knew death would come for him. I just wanted to forget. I wanted to live, and forget.

     Two years passed, and the thick summer heat once again was beating down on the tin roofs of our small community. I was swinging on the porch with my dad. We were not talking, just enjoying the slight breeze. With a breeze, the sweat became cool and was almost like having air conditioning. The cicadas were starting to sing and I started to remember that day behind the store. Daddy was very concerned and insisted on knowing what was wrong. I debated in my mind if I could tell. Was it safe after all this time? I felt like death had surely moved on. This town was small, and it had been quiet for a few seasons. With apprehension, I took a deep breath and told my dad what I had seen all those summers ago. I also told him about the night death came to my window. My dad sat there with a straight face. I don’t think he believed me. He listened very intently, and when I was finished he hugged me close and kissed my forehead. He did not say anything. He just got up and walked into the house. I thought it would bring relief or peace to me, but it didn’t. I wanted to know what he was thinking. The screen door slammed shut behind him. The next morning he was gone before I woke up.

     Looking back I wish I had told someone else about that hot summer day when I saw death, when I had the chance to stop it from killing again. Life is full of choices, some easy and some hard. I guess it is only fitting that this finds me sitting in the woods, bound and gagged. Death found me earlier this afternoon, same car, same tattoo, and I suppose I will find myself face down in the fire pit. He will be coming for me. In this old shack that is deep in the woods, how many have sat here before me, how many will be here after? The kudzu is thick, and the sunlight strains to press through the old rotting boards. The floor is sticky with clotted blood and fecal matter. Oh, I see that he found dad. He is slumped over in the corner. I want to cry, but the fear will not allow my eyes to release any tears. It’s so hot, so very thick and hot.       

     Beware of the blackberries, there are snakes hiding there. Maybe when I leave this world someone will be watching death from the dirty old bathroom, and maybe they will be brave. Choices come around. I hear him coming. I wish I was bathing in morning dew in front of the big steel fan. I wish I had some blackberries.

Another poem

Scars

My scars define me

My scars remind me

The pain I left behind

Mistakes I’ve buried

Regret that I carried

That cut me to the ground

Peel back the skin

See through the sin

I am reborn anew

I am reborn to you

The hand that pulled me through

Shadows try to chase

Try to erase

All the things I have become

I stumble but don’t fall

Bend and not break

I will never again

Be that man

To face the black

Hell at my back

I have no fear

And I never will

You rain your love down on my face

And you call out the sun

And your light dispels

All that may oppose

And I am strong

Standing in your grace

Prepared for eternity

Pushing back the walls

And stepping into forever

In your hand

In your heart

I love you.

I am yours

And I am most thankful

For that.

DVick 2009

Short pamphlet I wrote for my Patients

Why You Matter

Dustin Vick MS

Do I really have a soul?

     Do I have a soul? That seems like a reasonable question to ask, but how can you prove it. Understand that if you can prove you have a soul, then it disproves that you are simply some evolutionary accident and that in fact there is much more to you than simple physiology. In an exercise that takes two people I will prove to you that you indeed have a soul.  Have someone stand in front of you facing you. Close your eyes and concentrate, focusing on where you are internally and quietly. Have the person touch you on your stomach. Answer this question: is that below you, above you, beside you or centered on you? Repeat the same questions touching your shoulders, chest, and top of your head. Then have them touch you right between your eyes. The same questions will be asked, and the correct conclusion will be that yes, touching between your eyes is where you are centered. There you will find your “I am” or to be blunt, the residence of your soul. It does not live in your chest, or your heart, but is centered in the cortex of your mind controlling the designed machine that is your body, and it is very busy most of the time, even as you sleep it regulates every function. Why is it significant to know that without any reservations we have a soul? The answer is because it opens so many doors of greater and deeper understanding into why we matter, and to whom.

Why am I Here?

     So, after establishing that there is a soul, which suggests that there is something special about your creation, then why are you here? Or in everyday terms, what is the meaning of life? Establishing a fundamental belief in a greater power than yourself, it leads you to wonder what they are up too. Well, it is a little more complex than a science experiment, but it is also easy to explain and understand if you let that very soul you have discovered listen for the answers. Putting all the mumbo jumbo garbage you hear from Hollywood and so called “learned men” lets establish a base to build on.

     Say that your father created a company. He built a strong foundation and a perfect business model that depended on a balance of justice and mercy to run smoothly.  He wants nothing more than to hand over the business to you when you are ready, but first you must be educated and trained. You must understand how it feels to work at every level of the company and how to handle every single trial that may come your way at those positions. In the end, if you follow his plan for you, and work really hard doing your best, even if you fall short, he has a safety net in place that will allow the most diligent efforts to branch out his business. Just remember the words of the savior when he was asked why he had stayed behind as a boy at the temple “I am about my fathers business”, think about it. He is even so loving and merciful that any effort at all gets some reward within the company. So, why are you here? To learn how to run the company. The company is creation, the owner is your father in heaven, and because he has worked so hard to put you here and give you this opportunity, obviously you matter, a lot.

     This life is full of opportunity to learn and experience all the things that our creator already knows. The beautiful loophole that has been put in place was contracted by our older brother and our fathers firstborn son, the only begotten, the Lord and savior of the world, Jesus Christ. He has already paid a price of learning all of the pitfalls of the business, he can step in for us at the final interview and on our behalf, state that he has already covered and endured the areas that we fell short in as long as we are willing to continue to try and learn he will supervise.

What Do the Scripture Tell Us About Where We Came From?

     In the book of Proverbs tells us that we were with our father before he created the earth, and that we communed with Jesus Christ as a family. Here are the verses found in chapter 8: 23 I was set up from ^aeverlasting, from the ^bbeginning, or ever the earth was. 24 When there were no depths, I was brought forth; when there were no fountains abounding with water.25 Before the mountains were settled, before the hills was I brought forth:26 While as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor ^athe highest part of the dust of the world.27 When he prepared the heavens, I was there: when he set a^acompass upon the face of the depth:28 When he established the clouds above: when he strengthened the fountains of the deep:29 When he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment: when he appointed the foundations of the earth:30 Then I was by him, as one brought up with him: and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him;31 Rejoicing in the habitable part of his earth; and my delights were with the sons of men. There are many more places that confirm this, but that will be your task to find them. We have been given the instruction manual (The scriptures) but we must open them and learn.

     So it is recorded that we actually did come from somewhere. We came from a place that was before earth, and we must assume that we dwelled there without the restrictions of mortality. The frail human body is for this world. It is imperfect and flawed, but it is the perfect vehicle in which our souls to learn. Without the mortal frame how would we understand pain, or joy, or hunger, or sadness, or pride, or love. All of this, it has a purpose. That is why you matter, a lot.

The misleading media, the devils playground

     We see it every day. The ads and shows on television, the music we hear, the internet, magazines, and the list goes on and on. You must be rich to be happy. You must be skinny. You must travel. You must engage in immoral behavior. You must use substances to “enhance” life’s experiences via alcohol or drugs. Marriage is an old worn out tradition. There is nothing wrong with pornography, or violence, or infidelity. These are everyday sentiments in our world today. Those that fight against them are ridiculed, mocked, even persecuted to some degree. This can easily sway us to feel like participating to be included, because we think if we don’t matter to the majority, we don’t matter. But seriously, the question you must ask yourself is this: If you believe in God, and believe he is all knowing, then he knows everything we do, even our very thoughts. Would we do, watch, listen to, looking at all the things we do in a day if God were standing beside us? Well? I think not. But he actually is to some degree. Why do you think there is a huge push to disprove God exists? With no God, there is no devil. With no devil there is no sin. With no sin, it’s a free for all! With all of the groups that rail against Christianity and its principles, they still believe in many of its tenants such as DON’T KILL, DON’T STEAL, DON’T LIE, you get the picture. You can’t have it both ways. Unfortunately that is just how society wants it. They want the buffet life experience that they can pick and choose what to call right and wrong. They believe in some sense of moral law but will not commit on its true origin. To succeed at the task at hand, we must be vigilant to follow the plan. Don’t believe the hype. How many famous people wind up in jail? How many die because of poor choices, or take their own lives. The elitist society of always wanting to find something more to make you whole is looking in the wrong place. The answers are not at the plastic surgeon or the bottom of a bottle, they are in a book, and the understanding is inside us all, just patiently waiting to be called upon to be free.

Looking in the Mirror, Peeling Away the Layers

     When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Do you see what you have been conditioned to see by the world around you, or is there something below the surface you have been missing? Understanding that you matter to someone of the greatest importance can help you see the true nature of your reason for being. You may be a little banged up, you may have some shoulder and back strain from carrying the burden of regret and mistakes that you as well as others still haven’t forgiven you for. You may see nothing of significance, or to be proud of, but you are wrong. When you are willing to look at yourself through the eyes of your creator the qualities he has shared with you begin to become visible. If it seems difficult, start small. What is one thing about you that you are proud of, good at, or working on? The smallest victory is still a victory. Do you like helping people? Do you enjoy any kind of hobby? There are limitless possibilities in everyone; the trouble is that we wear our flaws on the outside. It is much easier to see negative things for some reason. Once we can truly be honest with ourselves, we can tear down and rebuild to who we can be, and who we want to be. Make a list of things you would like to change. This can be small things as well as larger goals. It will soon become apparent that you can produce many significant gains in a day, a week, a month, and so on. Just always remember you will sometimes fall short and that’s ok because it is the determination to try again that builds true character.

A Light Through the Darkness: Losing Yourself in the Service of Others

     One of the best ways to find out how much we really do matter is to lose ourselves in the service of others. When we feel like we have exhauster the good we can do for ourselves at the moment, it is always a great idea to find those that are in need and donate an act of kindness to them. It doesn’t have to be monetary, or even physical. Sometimes a simple phone call, a letter, or even a smile with a “I was thinking about you today and wondered how you are” can change someone’s impression of self-worth. It is the little things that matter. As a psychologist, I have accidentally said things in passing to patients that was really nothing of significance to me, but they informed me later that it was a day changer to them. A young lady came into the office a few months back and her normally long straight hair was curled and very pretty. I walked by and commented that her hair looked very nice the way she was wearing it. She smiled and said thank you and that was the end of it. Much later she told me that my comment had made her very happy because no one had told her she looked nice in years. I was saddened by this because every human being is beautiful in their own way. She wept and said it was a day she would never forget. How sad is it that such a small thing like that can mean so much? Yet, we can make minimal efforts and move mountains. When we do something to lift others or lighten their burdens, often we feel the benefit more than they do. Charity is the pure love of Christ. Take time to try and make a difference to someone each day, and soon we will see how much we truly matter too many. I complained I had no shoes, until I saw a man with no feet; that is something to think about. Another saying I love is that we should never look down at someone unless it is while reaching to pull them up. As we lose ourselves in service, we stumble upon self-worth. You matter.

A poem for my wife

My Kara

With failing hopes I face the sky

for rain to cover tears of shame

To know the cost and loss of dreams

and move the shadows from their frame

from days on end and roads long walked

and tracks that tread the guttered ground

of repetition in my flaws

and lessons never found.

In light I bathed and love I held

Her beaming ivory arms embraced

The peace that only she can share

The radiance of her face

I touched forever, smelled its bloom

I fell into the endless sky

And joy beyond my soul can weigh

My heart and hopes to fly

The fear that hides behind the walls

That second guesses every pass

Will have me cower praying deep

My first shall be my last

In echoes that rewind inside

I beg for comfort after death

To never find without her gaze

One moment or one breath
DVick12'

I am starting this blog even though I don't really know what I am doing because I just need an outlet to post my observations, poetry, lyrics, stories, or whatever happens to be on my mind at any given moment. I suspect no one will ever read it but maybe my wife, and that is ok with me. So I will begin with a quick run-down of me...I am 41, working on PhD in Psychology, married for the second time going on 10 years now. My wife is my best friend, as well as a handful sometimes (she knows it) but it is my source of joy. We have 5 kids combined. Pretty much good kids by the worlds standards. I am Mormon, which to intelligent people doesn't mean anything negative, to stupid people they think I have ten wives, worship Satan, and hold cult sacrifices...stupid right?!? Anyway, I work as a counselor (substance abuse) and a college instructor. I try to be a good man and not let the world get to me, but despite it all I am still human. You (the reader) will find all sorts of ranting and raving on this blog. So be prepared. But for what it is worth, enjoy it, or not, your call.