Author: C. L. Harmon

Living In The Lost & Found

For some, there will come a time when you will step out on faith and that faith will fail you. Only then and only by those who have experienced that loss will ever truly understand what it means to possess it. Many will make sacrifices and carry heavy burdens but that is not faith; those are actions and consequences. To step where there is no ground. To walk in darkness without light. To trust more than to fear, these are actually acts of faith.

There are few who truly test to see if there are boundaries of faith because there are so few who are willing to lose what they have gained. Real faith is not a gamble; it’s a willingness to sacrifice everything for one thing with only a belief. It’s a risk where all you are and all you possess that moment are at stake. There are no contingencies. You are alone, naked and exposed before all others.

Those few who take the risk walk in a different world than the rest. They experience their surroundings in different ways because they see depth even in the shallowest of existence while others remain blind to anything below the surface or beyond the horizon. They feel beyond natural barriers and sense a deeper understanding in all creation. Within them is a courage and a lunacy that outsiders cannot comprehend. And when that faith fails us, leaving us in despair, we grasp even tighter to it. Not because we are lost, but because we are found in that which only the truly trusting can ever know…that which is hope.

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The Elements of A Miracle

The Elements of A Miracle

Everything in existence is made up of different elements coming together at different times to form a specific creation. There is always a process, a chain of inputs and actions that produce the smallest of insects to the largest of solar systems. We are constantly surrounded by these seemingly never-ending processes and rarely realize their significance.

We have become so numb to the miracles all around us that we don’t even see ourselves as a miraculous creation any longer. Our struggles, disappointments, and losses become our primary focus while we ignore the awesomeness of our own existence, simply take it for granted.

There is limited understanding and agreement as to our origins but there should be no disagreement as to the knowledge that we and our natural surroundings are incredible creations filled with wonder. Our ideas, drive, passion, love and trust are all just small parts of us that we use to further creation. The significance of existence is to use it. We are the elements that are used to fill tomorrows with new miracles.

To focus only on ourselves, steals what we can we can bring forth to those tomorrows that are created for us. Progress is a creative process that derives from pushing our negative selves out of focus and our desire to overcome within it. If we do this while acknowledging that we are a miracle, then we can always know that what we create becomes one too.

Mindset Origin: Darkness is Where You Can See

The first part of understanding is acceptance. There can be no enlightenment through denial. What we allow ourselves to feel and experience are the seeds that become the trees of knowledge and wisdom.

There is growth in the darkness of despair just as there is in the light of prosperity. We shield ourselves from fears and tragedies in hopes of escaping the sorrows that befall humanity. We close our eyes and withdraw from others to find sanctuary within ourselves, trying to avoid the bleak times upon us.

This causes us to lose sight of our potential to expand our understanding of life. What we refuse to see and acknowledge becomes our fears and our boundaries. When we choose not to know it, we take away our choice and opportunity to rise up above it and become illuminated in every darkness that follows.

New Mindset: Playing With Fire

PLAYING WITH FIRE

What is your passion? There is one inside all of that burns with an unquenchable thirst. We feel it in times of high emotions and in the lows of despair. It’s a feeling, a voice, a desire and a sense rolled into one. It never leaves us and it never rests in peaceful slumber. It’s a part of us that we may not have yet met. But it’s there in every part of us

Our passion is as much a part of us as bones and blood. It lives, it grows and it dies within us . It knocks on our souls’ doors and begs entry into our thoughts. To know it is as simple as opening a door. With it come fear and delight, secrets and plight. A realm it is that is more than who we are, but one of who we never believed before we could be.

Dare to dream so that when death comes for you, it will know that you lived with purpose in every valuable moment given to you. Show it that you gave to life what only you could. Tell it that you heard the voice and you followed. You persevered even when darkness stole the light, you opened the door, you kept the fight.

Once passion is lit, it never burns out, never runs out of fuel. It builds rightenous and destroys maladies. It’s the sixth sense that each of us can unlock and free. Find it! Live up to it! Die with it! We are never fully whole until we find it. Every part of us is tied to it and without its discovery, we have existed having never truly lived at all.

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Unite And Conquer

Unite And Conquer

We are divided in so many ways and history shows us that we have always been. What is the cost of such division and what do we gain or lose because of it? What do we do in the name of these divisions and do they save us or destroy us?

Does anyone believe that slavery is acceptable? And by this, I mean would they be willing to not only have slaves, but be one themselves. When men and women in the world took actions to eradicate slavery throughout history, there was always opposition. There were wars, murders and uprisings on both sides, but time would show us all that it was wrong. And along with the eradication of slavery also came the end of two sides. Countless people suffered and died because of two sides that would eventually be irrelevant and erased. Where is the common sense in such divisions?

We allow race, religion, political ideals and arbitrary lines in the sand to divide us. But how do another’s views actually affect us? Does it take away your right to practice your views or worship the way you choose? No. But it will divide us because we want to be right because we want to win because we are arrogant. We are prideful choosing pride over love, friendship, mutual respect and open-mindedness We divide and that division conquers us and defeats our unity.

What must it take for humanity to learn that who we are, what we are, is simply our identities our belief systems and not something that is given or taken by others? If we ask ourselves what we consider to be fair and just to both sides and then act accordingly, division begins to evaporate. Differences in opinion do not divide us; lack of acknowledgment and respect for differing opinion creates division. The price for harmony always comes at the cost of humility which favors no side.

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Mindset Origins: Grant Yourself A Pardon

Mindset Origins: Grant Yourself A Pardon

I have been writing Mindsets for 25 years. I thought I might take some time to explain exactly what they are and how they originated. For most, if not all of us, we have defining moments or experiences which mold us into who we become. For me, that was a clinical depression in early adulthood. I began writing to help me express and understand that depression. Initially, most of it was dark poetry, but the more I wrote the less about expression and the more about understanding and finding hope it became. Within a few years, the dark poetry became more, eventually morphing into what would become Mindsets. I had chosen to focus on what could be as opposed to what was. I chose to understand instead of escape into a vice or become completely lost in misery. I needed to believe that everything has meaning and that life is not a cosmic roll of the dice without rhyme and reason. Writing Mindsets has helped me to answer many of my questions and hopefully answer a few for others as well. In addition, it has allowed me to write about subjects for which I am passionate. I will be publishing a series of my early Mindsets that I hope you will enjoy. Most of what I usually publish are new ones that I have written recently and so you will see subtle differences in styles and context as my style has evolved over the years, Below is the second Mindset in this series.

Grant Yourself A Pardon

Life leaves scars, regrets, and sorrows that grow and integrate into our daily experiences. Because of this, they eventually become more than feelings, developing into an integral part of who we are. As they grow, they begin to mislead us causing us to believe their hold on us is stronger than our gift of choice.

If we simply resist the deception and remember that who we are and where we are going is our choice, then we can choose for every day to be a new beginning. What has brought us contempt and unhappiness in the past can feel erased by the mere choice to be free of them.

What we hold on to, holds on to us be it positive or negative. If we choose to keep the negative then it chooses to keep us in that darkness. Circumstances are not punishments or rewards. They are, however, prisons or freedoms we either build or grant ourselves.

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Mindset Origins

Mindset Origins

It Only Takes A Spark In The Darkness To See

So often it seems the root of humanity stems from what we want instead of what others need. The desire of tending to our own comforts can build walls separating us from those who need us the most. It is not always a conscious act of neglect but more of an unwilling blindness that keeps us from the most important issues and people in our lives.

It is a simple gesture to give, one that requires only the choices to see and then to act. This simplicity has an awesome effect on both the giver and the receiver because it brings positivity, which sparks an internal change that never ceases to evolve.

After truly experiencing the power of giving, we no longer see ourselves as individuals with personal desires but rather part of a large family whose needs lead us to the understanding that we are only as comfortable and secure as those to whom we give.

Untitled Short Story: Part 1

For those who read this blog, you generally find material of a more serious nature. However, I felt it was time to add something a little different into the mix. I have an idea for a short story and thought it might be fun to see where it goes without edits or rewrites. Consider it like a tv sit-com recorded in front of a live audience. I encourage comments and hope we can have a fun little journey together.

C.L. Harmon

He was born Malachi Martín Musgrave, a fitting name it seems for someone such as this peculiar creation. Born in 1975 in a small town in Oklahoma, he would quickly become an oddity of sorts to many once he began junior high. Although his parents already had their suspicions that he seemed to have a part of his brain switched on that the rest didn’t, they hoped for him a normal life.

But there was something very different about Malachi; something that no one else in the world possessed. It was something that would take him all over the world and into an incredibly abnormal life. He had a gift which seemed to jump out of the Old Testament from the days of prophets and into the present and into a relatively no one. Strangely though, other than this extraordinary gift. Malachi was normal. In fact so normal, he was boring. He was a mediocre student, awkward around girls, was into the new arcade game craze and had wet dreams like all pubescent boys who fantasized about what breasts feel like and if sex was really heaven on earth as he had heard from older kids and his brother Caleb.

Malachi had a love of history. All the other subjects were simply a waste of time after the seventh grade he believed. But history had a fascination about. It held a connection to him that felt as real to him as any connection he had with family and friends. An eighth-grade history class incident would help him to begin understanding why. One day while flipping through the textbook to the subject matter of that day, he came across a photo of a tablet with cuneiform writing. The symbols on that tablet made sense to him. It was as though he was reading the English alphabet. It made perfect sense to him. He then read the caption below the photo and realized that it explained what he had just read on the tablet.

Immediately, he walked to the teacher’s desk to ask about it but was told to return to his seat and get on board with what the class was learning that day. Try as he may to listen to the teacher, his thoughts were a flurry of possible explanations as to how he could read the tablet. Pac-Man scores and even the thoughts of naked teenage girls would soon come to be taken over by afternoon sessions in the school library and eventually the town library. A slight obsession his parents thought, one that would subside with the excitement of high school, driving, and dating. They were wrong.

By the time he had started his sophomore year, the local library had borrowed hundreds of books from other libraries for him. He had even taught himself to write cuneiform so he would have copies of what he had been reading. However, he had kept his gift a secret from everyone. He told his parents that he had a love of history and that he was curious about learning all he could about it. He knew that what he could do was strange, but had no idea as to how extraordinary a gift it actually was or how beneficial it would someday be. His father, not the bookworm type, worried about his son who seemed to have no interest in girls, cars or sports. He did have friends that he spent time with, but only if there was not a new book at the library.

His fascination with what he was learning was like an addicting drug. The more he read, the more he wanted to learn. Every shard of clay was a puzzle piece that became part of an ever increasing and intriguing picture. Most of it made no sense. It was a book with many of its pages torn out. But there was definitely a story there he believed. It was more of a feeling than anything else. Archaic communications that held no meaning or purpose in the present is really what they seemed to be. They should be nothing more than pieces of a collection in the world’s museums. But what if they were more, Malachi wondered as he began seeing glimpses into the world of 5,000 years ago. But then again, maybe those thoughts were nothing more than the desired fantasy of a boy who dreamt of a life filled with adventure instead of one with old books, joysticks and the curiosity of hormone-raged teen. Reality it seems is never far behind one’s fantasies.

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What The Hell…

What The Hell…

C.L. Harmon

For me, writing a blog with Mindsets and other bits of knowledge and wisdom gained throughout my life is about several things. One of these is helping others find answers or peace. Others include discovery, pursuing understanding about the human condition and helping people to connect with other people among other objectives. My favorite part about writing anything though is that I can do it while hiding away from the world. It’s safe and it’s private. I have become introverted over the years and spend much of my time in thought and alone. Because of this, much of what I write has hidden meanings and twisted definitions with the purpose of making those who read them to think deeper than they are accustomed to as I do.

I like knowing that I can affect you or impact your life without probably ever meeting you. The only problem with this is that I cannot be affected by you, learn from you. This, what I am doing now, is how I cope without outside help. I write. I share. Having written that, I am just going to talk this time without a point or lesson. I had a very, very bad week. The particulars or causes won’t change anything and so there is no need to write them here. But how certain words and actions made me feel this week, those I will share.

These negatives felt as though I had been hit so hard that my breath couldn’t return to my lungs. Adrenaline, anger, shock and confusion overwhelmed me to the point where my perceived clarity was no longer focused. This is the first time in my life that this has ever happened. Dealing with numerous career disappointments, clinical depression, hardships of many sorts and feeling alone even in a crowd for most of my life has hardened me to the point that feeling is more of a practiced response than an actual expression of true emotion. That certainly changed this week. Damn sure sent me reeling!

So now I am in territory that I have not been in since I was 19. It’s strange and I am still reeling from this burst of real emotion. I don’t know what the hell I am supposed to with this. I am breathing again, but cautiously and very slowly. Is this the way that most people live? If so, it seems like an intense way of living. Of course, I assume most people probably express a little at a time and so maybe the intensity is not that overwhelming as in my case. Still, how does anyone stay sane? Hell, maybe their emotions are what keeps them sane and I am the insane one. As I said, things don’t make a lot of sense to me right now. So I guess it’s possible.

At any rate, there has been something that has come out of this that seems almost out of context in this whole scenario.

I now feel as though I have been looking at life through a dirty window pane for so long that what I have been seeing is not actually what has been going on outside, but illusions made from the images out of the dust on the window. Now that the glass has been shattered, nothing looks familiar. It’s frightening and hopefully enlightening at some point. It’s so bizarre. I have never been stopped dead in my tracks like I was this week. I don’t know how to feel. I have nothing to teach and nothing to give in this writing except personal honesty. But I am writing anyway. Who knows, maybe there is a message even in this rambling. Then again…maybe not. For those of you who read me faithfully and take my writings as messages as to how to cope with life and find peace, please accept my apologies this time. I am only human…as I rediscovered this week.

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In A New Light: Does God Ever Leave Us?

In A New Light: Does God Ever Leave Us?

C.L. Harmon

Many times while watching documentaries, I have heard Jewish survivors say that God was no there during that evil period we know as the Holocaust. Each time I would hear one of them say it, an uneasy feeling would pulse through me. I guess as a Christian who has been taught that God is always with me, it gave me pause and challenged my traditional beliefs. To have endured such evil, perhaps I too would feel the same way as these people. I don’t know. But I do know it bothered me. Is God sometimes absent from our lives? For people raised in Christianity, it must seem almost as blasphemy to think such a thought. But I want to know.

I am not sure that the question has an answer. At least not a complete answer we are privy to in this realm of existence. It is intriguing to me though that it’s possible humanity is sometimes responsible for dealing with its own messes. There must have been many people in the world at that time who knew that an evil regime was in power, yet only a few ever tried to stop it. Most in the Axis countries did nothing. Maybe God felt like that He had given enough. Maybe He thought that so much had been given to humanity already and that it was time for us to learn a lesson.

Although those persecuted by the Nazis suffered the greatest as a whole without a doubt, everyone involved in a war suffers to some extent. Each country and each person suffers during conflicts. Perhaps He did step back and expect humanity to step up and finally learn the words by Edmund Burke, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,”. Maybe this was God’s way of saying that He did not allow this, but humanity allowed it by doing nothing when something had to be done.

If this were true, it would certainly explain a great deal about the miseries we suffer in our own lives. Perhaps free will carries a much greater meaning than we are willing to accept and thus accept its responsibility. As parents, do we not know that by allowing our children to make mistakes, we teach them? Does not requiring them to pay for those mistakes not teach them about the consequences of their actions or failure to act? I do not believe God punishes us for using our free will in poor judgment. I do, however, believe that he allows the consequences from it to serve as life lessons.

I further don’t believe that God ever abandons us entirely at any time. I believe He is always with us but remains silent and inactive while giving humanity the opportunity and the time to do what is right and noble. Perhaps those who believe God was absent in the concentration camps and occupied territories feel that way because God was silent just as he had been the 400 years between the Old Testament and the New Testament (Malachi’s Warning to the Jewish people). God did not abandon His children then; He remained silent while they found their way back to Him in their practices. Had He decided to abandon them, then what would have been the point of sending Malachi in 430 BC and Christ 430 years later?

These are simply my thoughts, nothing more. I find that writing allows me to explore the questions this life offers me. These writings are not proclamations of truth, but simply investigative writings which help me understand my world. It is always my hope to open up my mind and others’ as to new ways of seeing the world so that we may all have a better understanding of life and the role we play in it.

Thanks for Reading!

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