In the last 30 days I’ve had to choose. I’ve had to decide which James am I going to be, and yet, the decision was made for me. My conscience decided it, because my body, my sleep, and my stress levels couldn’t handle it any longer.
At the end of the day, I serve God. Not money, not people, not the crowd, not my peers, and not the world of today. I don’t know how to fit into that crowd. The crowd who lies to themselves, and say that they’re ok, and then go out and sleep around, or do drugs, or drink too much, or chase money, as if those things will take away their loneliness, or pain, or insecurities, or will somehow enhance their value, and relevance.
It isn’t any less difficult when I’m not doing this things. It is just as difficult to struggle with daily life, as it is when one is absorbed in whatever it is they choose, to distract them from facing their own lives. I constantly am faced, daily, with having to bite my tongue, or presented with men who ridicule women, and women who ridicule men, and the constant need for people to treat or discuss the other as though they’re property, or sex objects, or just less thans…
So i had to choose. I had to choose which part of this world i would involve myself within. And I choose God. It isn’t a crutch, or a weakness, or a cop out. I realize that a lot of people believe it, but then they’re really in a position to measure me are they? They use the drugs, or nights out at bars, drinking, or scouring over documents, and stock reports, seeing when they can get their next dollar, or looking at women, and men, thinking about the next person they can get into bed. Really, is that any different than the accusations that they’d throw at me? If they say to me, “oh thats a crutch!” is what they do, a crutch? or an empowerment? Do they feel any more love, or relevance, than I do trusting in what I can not see?
I think that the only difference, really, is they wake up the next morning, and realize that they’re actually alone, and i don’t. Because I’m not alone. I am with myself, at the end of the day, and i can look myself in the mirror, and at least be calm and content about who I am and my choices. My choices to not “fit in” according to their needs of how I should fit in.
I’ve been told I’m an elitist, and i had to think about that. I suppose I am. After all, I don’t need the drugs. I don’t need the tattoo’s, or the beers, or the liquor, or to be surrounded by tons of hot girls, or even to look at girls like they’re a conquest. I don’t think that is elitist, but if thats what I’m called, then I guess, to them, who say so, I am elitist, because they who say that to me, do those things.
I don’t need to pretend that I like someone, who i don’t like. I don’t have to worry about saying something behind anyone’s back that i wouldn’t say to their face, and I don’t have to be concerned of dying for saying it, if that is the result.
And actually, I’ve never been afraid of death, or growing old, or being who I am. I’ve never had to say I’m sorry that I’m James. I’ve never felt guilt for speaking the truth. I don’t feel guilt, nor can anyone guilt me. In truth, whenever anyone attempts the guilt game on me, i just get pissed off by it, because they’re trying something on me, which is really, only a mirror or projection of how they struggle.
I’ve also never struggled with having to say i’m sorry, or I’m wrong. I mean really each of those times it was simply a case of crap, i’m wrong. or crap, i shouldn’t have done that, and then turning around and apologizing. Just so I can get on with my day. Hence the absence of guilt.
The thing is, that I forgive myself. Constantly. Sometimes for the same things i do over and over again, which I know are foolish, or stupid or wrong. But each time, is the first time, because of that self forgiveness.
God says, we’re to love our neighbors as ourselves. I always rather believed that rather precluded that we loved ourselves first.
So, I’m choosing to love myself first. Because God loves me. And in that… i can love others, no matter what judgments they need to throw at me – accusing me of being judgmental – in order to be able to live with themselves.
God bless you. 
