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I learned another lesson recently (okay… yesterday, in fact) about things that appear to be important; or, perhaps what we think might be important.
…perspective, if you will.
such a simple thing, really.
I’ve worked for about two weeks, rather strenuously, to research information around an obnoxiously epic post (just scroll down, it preceeds this hardly erudite offering). there are a good number of people that have been waiting for it to see electronic life. this morning I arrived to the offices, fed the fish, and fired-up my computer to start checking out comments. although I don’t approve most; while allowing a few, I enjoy the repartee they offer. in any event, there was an ugly banner (in red, no less) splayed across the top of my control panel. the gist of the message was that I had apparently violated some uncertain policy and my blog was banished. just like that. several years of effort. a lot of caring. stories about Haley Anne and Emma Jo, agonizing cultural commentary – just gone. and, to make it worse, I was deemed bad, possibly evil by the WordPress powers-that-be.
amazingly enough, perhaps only to myself, I found that I was unconcerned. I did some pull-ups and contemplated investigating the new Windows phone (problem is only AT&T currently offers that – so, forget it [see aforementioned epic post]). I decided karma might be a bicth, but God had decided He needed my focus, somehow, elsewhere.
then Anthony, from WordPress itself, sent me an email:
A mistake was made in the system which we have corrected. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a mystery. The blog is back just as you left it.
We are really sorry for that happening and the inconvenience it caused you.
I failed to hesitate in my response:
“We are useless without some form of forgiveness.
I actually meant it.
I’m a socially awkward person, and this blog helps me. I almost lost it. but, I was okay. I am somehow still connected to all of you. and, I’m a better man for it.
and, I’m grateful for so much in my life. especially for the events surrounding, and relative to last night. only God knows.
meanwhile, my brother Greg recently reminded me there exists a certain poem. I may go into more detail about this later, but have you ever read the The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock? It’s a classic and wildly complicated poem – a meditation on aging and the aching disappointment of being human (especially male and human) – by T. S. Eliot, arguably the greatest literary observer of the first half of the (or maybe of the whole) 20th Century.
go read it. do it! Will the mermaids sing to you?
peace be to my brothers and sister.
brian patrick cork
If you’ve followed this Blog, or are my friend (and, sometimes it’s hard to do both), you know that my earthly father took his own life back in 1986 – most likely because he was heart-broken over the loss of my mother. If you’re so inclined, you can indulge yourself and learn a bit more about that by reading: My Dad: Story 22 – Married For Life.
That tragic reality is relevant to this current post for two reasons relative to myself, although it may well be relevant to you for more, other, or no cause or effect. One reason for me is that I can, or could, relate to my Dad’s mourning of Mom. I could never abide a life without Joanne in it. And, apples come from trees, as it were.
I don’t discuss it, broadly, but Dad might have been manic depressive, as well. I doubt I’m afflicted with such a curse. I’m generally much too optimistic for such things. In fact, my recent post: optimism is apparently quite popular with you, collectively. It’s hard and cruel to label people. And, probably unwise to attempt uncertain diagnosis. But, Dad was clearly head-and-shoulders above the crowd when it came to intelligence, drive, ambition, and a capacity to love while also being mean (but, like a lot of high-ranking Air Force Officers of his era, he drank a lot as well). And, that appears to be part of the profile. To be sure, the branches of my family tree (we seem to lead by many examples, with more good than bad) certainly have their own demons.
Me? I’m open-minded, pun intended.
So, that might be my lot. Maybe not. And, I don’t mean to over-analyze. I wonder if one can be a hypocondriac when it comes to mental illness? Or, is that paranoia? I’m trying to be light-hearted. But, God help me with both the journey and discovery.
One of the ironies, here, in this line-of-thinking, might include: if you have a form of mental illness, how could you, or would you know? Also, would you care? Or, if you did, would you be inclined or inhibited to take positive action? If conscience is involved, how would that be separated from “voices”?
But, I also have scienter. You see that term referenced on this Blog, fairly often. I think it’s part of living an authentic life (yes, another recurring theme), and being accountable and responsible. But, that torch brings with it a burden, of sorts. Just because there might be the potential for mental illness, or any problem (it took me ten minutes to ponder the word problem because I detest it, and strive to avoid using it. however, it’s apropos), for that matter, this doesn’t mean we can use it as an excuse – and therefore can’t be absolved of accountability. Thusly, It’s my position that if we know there might be a problem, we have to be willing to account for it and seek ways to overcome that challenge. Furthermore, if we’re to think such a burden exists, then I’m confident I have to realize extremes, if required, to compensate for it, for the betterment of others.
So, and ironically, this test might qualify as a form of super powers that must be used for good. Or, I’m just being delusional. But, I mean well.
Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork
God gives us wives because it pleases Him to do so. Then, and in turn, it’s our role to please those wives. However, there is no rule that requires them to be pleased with our “Servant Hearts”, tilting of windmills, or slaying of dragons. Indeed, behind every great man there is likely some woman rolling her eyes.
To wit… A recent email exchange between Joanne and myself:
On Sep 26, 2010, at 9:33 AM, brian patrick cork wrote:
“With your clearance, I’d like to take your Cayenne and have it cleaned Wednesday.
I’m not trying to be a servant. Although it’s not lost on me this might please you. But, rather, this action, not un-entirely heroic, is simply in-keeping with the shallowness of my personnae. To wit, I’m electing to put on airs for Jeanette and Chris’s trip. /1 And, in effect, I suspect this will, at some level, please you as well. Because we both know it will make everyone all the more comfortable.
On Sep 26, 2010, at 11:17 AM, Joanne Cork wrote:
Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork
1/ Jeanette is my sister-in-law. And, thusly, Chris is her (Jeanette’s) own white knight.