Defeat is Only Momentary- If You Let it Be

            Defeat is Only Momentary- If You Let it Be

                Eric Campos

 

Life. It’s an interesting journey, a windy, rocky road. The Sioux describe life as the red road, they hold that our role as individuals is to seek out and carve our own path. It’s not always easy though. We all know this because everyone, everyone, has known struggle. We’ve all encountered stones, pitfalls, and gorges along our paths. You know what I’m talking about: rotten luck, hard times. Doubts.

Well, there are certain things and there are more certain things- but at the same time life, the world, also has room for mystery. What is for certain is that there WILL be times that beat the ever-loving shit out of us. There WILL be trials in life that threaten to break us at our core. There WILL be moments when you feel so beaten down you wonder: how can I stand? There WILL be people in life that hurt you. The certainties of life are that everyone/ everything WILL die, and before that, there WILL be mountains to climb. Might even feel like a sea of fire complete with devils cackling at us with bony pointing fingers. Struggle, that’s for certain. Some carry a share more than others, but we all have them. It’s a life guarantee.

Here’s another guarantee: life’s turns aren’t written in stone. We have the ability to shape our own path through opportunities that cross us, and our own choices. Sometimes we’re dealt a tough hand, a string of tough hands, but all you can do is keep on playing. That doesn’t mean you can’t turn it around, it means you have to make the best of what you’ve been dealt, adapt. Defeat is only momentary- if you let it be. Rough patches tend to come in a stretch, stacking one after another until they all come crashing down. Think about it, when ‘shit hits the fan’ it usually falls in waves.  The test of character, and will, is your ability to acknowledge these adverse circumstances and carry on. I’ve always believed that the mark of a great individual is the grace and integrity they model while facing hard times. Think of the people, the icons, we all admire. Let’s be honest, we don’t revere the guy that had an easy coast up to the top and had things just handed to him- that’s hardly how it goes in the world anyway.  At least for most of us. The truth is that greatness costs, it costs a lot. The best people in my own life are great because they went through truly heavy ordeals in life, but ultimately became so much more than what they were before.  I’m not going to advocate hardship in the sense of saying it’s totally a good thing, it can be very painful. What I will say is that it’s necessary and inevitable. We need it. We need it because as archaic as it sounds, when facing those bitter moments we do find our truest selves. And this self can either crumble or carry on, grow, and become.

Existence itself is dependent upon chaos, the raging fire that destroys and yet builds. Think of nature, how her persistent seasons batter the natural realm with enduring resolve. Animals rise and fall, fruitful summer yields to winter’s barren pull. Change is measured by the movement from one state to another, growth is measured from lack or decay becoming whole again and fruitful. Think about it. We would never know a plentiful harvest without experiencing the long winter or failing season. Our hard times make us appreciate the good ones- but more, they make us more capable of attaining the growth we need to actively create our own good fortune. Struggles in life teach lessons we would never know without experiencing failure or betrayal, in kind such experiences fortify us for future disappointments. Like the seasons, good times and bad occur in varying periods. The Anglo-Saxon bard, Deor, once wrote: “He sits sorrowful and anxious,/ bereft of joy/ darkening in his mind/ he thinks to himself/ that it is endless/ that his part of troubles;/ then he can consider/ that throughout this world/ the wise Lord/ always goes,/ to many men/ he shows honour,/ sure glory,/ to some a share of troubles.”  Hardship, while seemingly endless is but a state of being, as are times of prosper. Hard times don’t last forever, as Deor’s refrain illustrates: “Thaes ofereode,/ thisses swa maeg”- “That was overcome,/ so may this be.” And also, Deor reminds that struggle is felt by everyone, we all have our due of happiness and despair.

So the question: When we’re waist deep in the trenches and troubles are pounding us deeper into the cold earth, how do we get through it? There’s no easy answer. You just get through it. You get battered, you learn from your mistakes, you feel failure and hurt, and that can’t be helped- the only power you retain is your own personhood. As it happens though, it is attitude that drives people to greatness. The way you carry yourself is what will ultimately carry you through even the direst periods. Attitude can lead you down or up- and I know- when you’re down it always feels like you can only go down, but we all know that everything does pass. Defeat is only momentary- if you let it be. The challenging thing I’ve discovered is not giving into a defeatist attitude while treading the rocky red road. It’s very easy to fall into feelings of despair, feelings that the world has an agenda against you; that you won’t prevail. These are negative feelings that dwell on what has happened in the past already and negative ideas of what could happen (if the bad times continue). Part of this just comes with the roughness, but if you allow yourself to adopt the idea that you will not make it, you won’t. Everything begins with simple words of thought. If you write your own demise on the wall in front of you, you will have lost the war without raising your sword. You will have not even attempted to climb the battlements. Dwelling on current bad circumstances can divert you from ways to remedy them. In kind such thinking distracts you from things that are good in life, and that could potentially lead to happiness. Don’t gloom.

When I’m in a bad place I just believe in my head that things will be okay because I will make them okay. It sure as Hell doesn’t mean I’m whistling zippity-do-dah every minute of every day, but I try to steel myself to focus on resolving the issues and generally accept that I have life, which is great, and that I as the architect of my path will find a way to fulfillment. I’ve struggled my whole life (as have many), and I can honestly say that I would not be the same person I am had I not endured them. I would not be as strong. It’s the same for us all through our own unique experiences. Ernest Hemmingway profoundly wrote: “The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” (Hemingway, A Farwell to Arms) If there’s one indomitable truth in the world, it’s that the view on top of a mountain is one of the greatest most beautiful sights to behold.  Yet it is an even greater vision after seeing only fragments of the horizon, rock, and dirt. When at the pinnacle under Heaven’s gate, you see that all of it, all of that climb was part of something much grander that culminated into the act of you reaching the top of the world and looking down. Just believe that you will be better after all of it. Just think how much stronger you will be and feel with the simple knowledge: I got through it.  

 Not everyone will reach that exact objective, and that’s alright. Life is about the journey itself, the journey is the worthier part (Yes, I am referencing Firefly, a truly profound line). What we take with us in the end, in the truest sense, is how we have lived and who we have encountered along the way (what they meant to us, and vice versa). If we can at least be around good people, and live in a way we are proud of- is that not a great accomplishment? But again I say, nothing is beyond a person’s grasp, only what they limit with their own mind. When unlimited in the mind, individuals have won long shot victories and walked places once deemed impossible. The will, attitude, these are the initial causes of great things. Remember that every action was first conceived in the human mind, brought to action by the strength of character to make it so.

I didn’t intend to write about struggle, or how to overcome it. I won’t be arrogant in saying that I have the solutions for individual problems, or that everything will be okay. I will say that, YOU, can make things alright. I will say that you have the power. And I would urge everyone to take a moment and really think about what I said earlier in that life is a mysterious and windy road. There can be real beauty in that mystery. What’s cool about life (and something uplifting) is that every day can be different; you can learn something different each time you wake up.  I wrote earlier that defeat is only momentary if you let it be- I also think that with every day of life there is the potential for adventure.

 Two weeks ago I was in a rut. It was Wednesday. I woke up late and reluctantly dressed for my morning run and lift. I was finishing the first loop of my boring route when I saw something totally unexpected. Horses. Yes, horses in my small Baltimore neighborhood. They were there as part of a summer camp, to teach the local kids the art of horsemanship and also provide simple pony rides. I met their handlers, Mr. Derik and Q, two very good men.  I approached and asked if I could get closer to the horses. I had ridden before in northern Georgia, but I’ve never been an equestrian. This didn’t stop me from volunteering to help them out. With genuine warmth in their eyes they welcomed my help. I brushed the horses down, and then later learned how to saddle and bridle them. I ended up leading several of the horses around for the kids to mount and ride. This has been one of the most rewarding experiences living Baltimore. I got the chance learn skills many modern everyday people don’t have the opportunity to experience- or just don’t care about. I got to be around these amazing, powerful animals. The spirit of a horse emanates in a way that you are just taken back at first in their presence. I also had the opportunity to help share these animals with others- the kids loved them, and I loved that. I loved being part of the effort that made so many happy in their lives. It was in serving others, I felt the bonds of my own troubles fade away- this was the experience that really freed my mind of the burdens I’ve been facing, and inspired me to write this post.

 Helping others, volunteering, gave me a real sense of happiness and purpose in my life. It’s something I strive to do through writing as well. I’m not going to be the obnoxious goody-goody and guilt you into signing up for a million charities to consume your life- not at all. A simple act of kindness can be done anywhere, anytime. I praise individuals who give themselves to formal periodical charity, but that might not be for everyone. My philosophy is that if I am able, I serve- but most importantly: serve with my whole heart, with conviction. Serve in something you enjoy.

Not only did I get to work with very good people who honored me with their time and teaching- I also got to do some free riding! Now let’s step back and look at how random that was. Its nuts right? Totally out of the blue. This all happened because I did the simple act of indulging a moment of curiosity and extending a hand. Life throws you down a hole sometimes, but you always have the ability to climb up. And when you do, there is a broader road to venture out to. Explore. Live. Live with the confidence that you have the power to attain your goals, and you will. Explore your world and you will find treasures at every turn.  Live in the moment that is ever changing, as you are, and your burdens will be merely in the past. 

The Price of Discipline

               

The Price of Discipline

Eric Campos

 

               

                I rise every morning,

                To the song of swords.

                They pierce my muscles, my bones,

                Make me want to falter.

 

                 I rise,

                I neglect the sting,

                Though my body protests,

                With layers of sharp, echoing rings,

                It remembers the din of war every morning.

 

                I rise,

                To take to the open road,

                The start of another journey,

                Another day, more goals.

                To be all that I can be.

 

                I rise,

                They cannot stop me,

                No hand can bar my way, 

                If pitfalls,

                And barriers,

                 Mountains, try turn me away,

                I’ll jump,

                And cross,

                And climb,

                Until my road becomes straight again.

 

                I rise,

                I am the goer that keeps going,

                I am he that climbs mountains,

                And I do it with a grin.

                I awaken every morning,

                With my heart and mind knowing,

                My journey, goals, this new day begins,

                Again

 

 

                I rise,

                My mind steady,

                Body now ready,

                I am undaunted,

                I know what I must do.

 

                I rise,

                My task now set,

                Framed,

                War banner flaring.

 

                I rise,

                I breath in the morning,

                Standing,

                Unyielding,

                Facing the bitter fray ahead.

                I just grin,

                I’m closer,

                I’m not stopping now,

                The price of discipline,

                Success,

                Honor,

                Greatness yielding.

                It is in my grasp.

 

The Lyconian Creation Myth; an excerpt from the Universe of Calazar (C)

The following is a brief excerpt from my upcoming series: The Universe of Calazar. This is one of the  myths featured in the series, and in the particular novel I have been writing for years (Just ask Nick). Feel free to share your thoughts, the Shield Hall is open. This is an original poem in epic format I have created for the Lyconian race.

                In the beginning there was nothing.

                There were no creatures,

                 There was no land,

                Nor sea,

                Nor was there sky and stars.

                There was no sun and moon, nor other heavenly bodies,

                There was only void.

                Yet there was always Lycan, who has been ever powerful and the root

                Of all that is good.

                Always with Lycan was his wife, Lycania.

                With her they shared power and were eternally devoted.

                It was out of love for her husband, and of what could be,

                 That Lycania, with a voice most fair, began to sing.

  

                She sang of stars that would light the universe,

                Of the Sun, warmth giver, to light the skies in glorious rays,

                And the Moon, mother to the stars, giver of light when darkness lay.

                Thus there was born the night and day.

                Lycania had dreamed of a world rich in color, a tapestry of life.

                She sang of mountain and forest, glen and pine, and meadow 

                And of the bounty the land’s soil would endow.

                Trees would bear food for an assortment of creatures,

                Life would flourish from the earth’s gifts,

                On and on, a cycle upon cycle.

                Her voice ebbed and flowed as the water in the brook,

                 That graces every stone.

                She sang of blue seas and water good to drink,

                Flowing among the lands.

                And too she sang of fish and other animals

               That would inhabit the waters.

                 

                Lycania’s song wove many other creatures,

                Of land,

                Of sea,

                Of sky,

                All these creatures her eyes had dreamed and voice brought to light,

                She sang them beauty and scope,

                To her Eternal Lord, who would give them life.

                Lycania’s final verses were of the Lyconian race,

                For she had made them most in Their light,

                She sang of their strength, and valor bright.

                Their potential for good, and honor great.

                They would rule this world in mortal flesh,

                And guard it safe,

                And goodness would come of them.

                Thus sang Lycania, maiden of the golden words,

                Her lyre echoing in the void.

                By now every God immortal had gathered to hear,

                And moved were they by her song,

                But none more than Lycan, All Father.

                Stirred by her words,

                Her vision pure,

                His enduring love for her,

                And for His Creation,                     

                Lycan thus carved the world into being.

                From His own flesh, Lycan created the earth,

                A sphere, perfect in form,

                And above the world He set the sky.

                To light His creation, Lycan created the sun out of his burning will.

                He shaped the Moon, Sun’s companion,

                Hope in darkness when the Sun must rest,        

               

                From Lycania’s own grace He drew.

                To the Sun and Moon He gave each other,

                And the Moon bore billions of children,

                These are the stars that surround the world.

                 

                Then from his beard, Lycan World-Maker drew a single hair,

                And placed it on the world he had created.

                From this sprout Hanuiir, the tree of life,

                From which grew all other trees and plants.

                Many bore fruits and things good and wholesome,

                And colors too lined their make.

                True beauty did they partake,

                Bright lit by the Sun.

               

                Lycania’s song, had touched the All Father deep,

                From Him a single tear drop He let fall upon His new world,

                And this tear would fill the world with river, lake, and sea,

                And it would cover the globe, and give life to all creation,

                Just as Lycania’s music stirred within Him the inspiration, to create.

  

                The world made, with water to drink, foods to eat,

                Lycan turned to create living beings.

                Taking up a handful of earth mixed with water,

                Lycan blew it to dust, and what landed formed

                All the creatures of land,

                And sea,

                And sky,

                He made them as all beings, in male and female,

                And they were all beautiful in His sight and the sight of the Gods.

                But most marvelous were the people of Lycan.

               

                Lycan Great, Maker of the World, again took up earth and water,

                And metal,

                For this as well did He make,

                And drawing  His own blood, and Lycania’s, 

                He let these two drops into the mixture,

                And Lycan blew to life a man and woman, their mortal children.

                Thus was born the Lyconian race, and the world we live on.

                And all the Gods after listening and watching agreed,

                It was a masterpiece to behold.

               

            -Lycania’s Song, and the Creation of the World

            (The Lyconian creation myth of their race and their origin world, Lycan)

           

Spring's Early Light

Eric Campos

Sacred meadow, gold and green,

Stretching far as the eye can see.

You tempt me cross, and yet that cannot be,

My mortal steps would surely trample thee.

And so I just stand,

I watch,

I soak you in from afar.

I gain joy in my heart,

It is a beautiful sight,

And yet, I know,

With winter it shall depart.

And that is what makes it a vision greater.

Finding Home

          Going to school far from home has certainly been an experience. Up in Baltimore I’m more or less on my own- I have friends- but the family is split in Pennsylvania and Georgia. The majority of Loyola’s New York and New Jersey student body are more or less in their element, they have easy access to home while I’m one of the only ‘Johnny Rebs’ on campus. It was certainly a change freshmen year, but truth be told, it was a smooth adjustment.  I love Baltimore, but this doesn’t change the fact that sometimes I miss the old homestead, the family, and friends, and sights, and just feel that define what I would call my homeland. This year I left home in early September and didn’t return once until Christmas break. The atmosphere up north is great, I have met new people, encountered new ideas, slowly but surely I am carving my own place in the world. I’ve also learned that spending long lengths of time away from the familiar, kindles a new found respect and reverence for that which the individual returns too. 

                It’s funny. I can remember when I was kid wanting to get away from Ellenwood (the suburban area I live in just south of the city), leave it in the dust as they say. Now, for most of the year I am- and it is now I recognize how my original surroundings were crucial to my initial development. I feel like these past three years more than ever I have recognized my roots in this particular state, this was where by an odd stroke of fate my mother and grandmother ended up living. This is the only state where my Father’s line came to America- making me the first Campos born on American soil. It is a state filled with history and natural beauty, the Georgian wilderness tempting my imagination since I can remember. The culture and genuine warmth the people display here are also what have shaped my own sense of courtesy and respect towards other people.  

                Being from Atlanta has actually become a part of my identity. In a school where the majority responses to “where are you from?” are either Long Island, or Jersey, perhaps the occasional Connecticut or Maryland (yes, not that many Marylanders, but they have a presence)- I’m one of the few that replies with a southern state. Exotic, as this one random upperclassman commented my freshmen year. Yes, I could tell many a story of how… shocked or disappointed (not quite sure) people were/are that I do not possess a very strong southern accent- if any at all.  It makes me unique- or rather adds to my unique presence. Remember to always embrace where you come from, because in some way it helps mold who you are, what you become. Though you as the individual form your being, I feel that this is influenced by the acceptance and/or rejection of your environment and people in your life.

                I’ve certainly had adventures this trip, from my Uncle’s backyard, to the mountains of northern Georgia, to historic Oakland Cemetery. I explored new sites, and experienced shenanigans that shall be remembered always, conjuring laughs and sighs for years to come. It’s the smallest things about home, about those you become closest with, that you really pick up on with time and in reexamination. It’s the funny quirks of individual family members that make you laugh, the general oddness of people that’s really funny- God knows I have had many of those experiences this trip and it’s those moments that really chisel a smile on your face, into your memory, forever. It’s those moments that return people to home, just as much as images of the physical locations.

                There is a fundamental need for Human Beings to have a home, a homeland. The home goes beyond any physical location. People live all over the world, an individual can own several houses, but does that make each of them a home? Or is there a presence of home in each of these houses? The truth is, I believe, that a home more than anything is a house of memories, good, bad, but over all impacting, shaping a person’s life. The home is family. The home is memory.

                It is because of this that I imagine it’s so hard to create a new home when setting out into the world. Though in a way you never leave, because of the memory, the memories survive, and you take those with you. It’s based on those memories that you create new ones, new homes, those are the bricks that truly shape how one lives. Memories can fade of course, whether by sickness or just passing time. In that case one has to look to who they are as an individual, and acknowledge that it was in no small part because of their roots, their home, both the people and the location.

                To find one’s home is to know a part of oneself, in a great sense this is every person’s origin. Of course the higher home for us all is God, in his infinite forms, The Creator. In knowing both of these origins we can learn to better understand the individual person, and the human race, and the divine. To truly find one’s home is to be able to grasp a kind of safety and contentment in yourself as well as the outside world- and of course those who make them all worthwhile.

                Like the Red Road, the home is defined uniquely, we shape it ourselves. Therefore, a home just as with people, is to each its own. In this my dear friends and readers, I invite you to meditate on your own sense of home. Look for the small things, take a walk outside, and if you reach some powerful thought or just want to share your own ideas of home, please do. Remember, the Shield Hall is open.    

                Shifting gears, I would like to take the time to share my love and appreciation to all my family and friends for making this a great return home. You make it so, all of you.    

               

Life's Three Bridges

                It’s good to be writing for Shield Hall again. It feels like it has been so long since I have had the time to just sit and meditate and write something other than my novel… or a damn school paper. I was thinking of what to write about when earlier this week it came in a question both simple and profound, and yet all together complicated in the end: what is it people truly want in life? We all have individual callings, dreams, we create our own red road; but certainly as a Human person there must be some commonly sought aspects of life that we all desire to attain, that we need. Some people, in our age of commercialism, where wealth can often be more of a judge of character, than well… character, they can lose sight of these inner motives for existence. When it comes down to it though, what I seek, what all people truly desire are things that can’t be physically touched at all. On our road of life we are all drawn to have acceptance, love, and purpose. These are the fruits of life, these are what the soul truly desires. What makes life, life.

                Humans are social animals, in some way shape or form, we need a pack to belong to. We yearn for acceptance. It is natural that people want to be around others, we form friendships, we live in family units, we bond together, and are there for one another. Relationships are also a way to judge a person’s character, ‘you know what kind of man a person is by the company they keep’. A truly close and fulfilling relationship of any kind is one where each person accepts the other for who they are, what they stand for.  Acceptance is in many ways is an affirmation of one’s identity. People desire true relationships because that means people accept them for who they truly are, these people care about this individual, they find worth in his personhood and company, his presence carries value in another’s life. This acceptance proves to the individual that they fit into this world; their individuality is a positive thing that others place value in. While not everyone fits in everywhere and with everyone, numbers don’t matter. It’s those close to us that give us true worth, they care about us, and they are gift to be around. They are our mentors, close friends, and family. In a world mostly of strangers it’s these people who most define who we become and what we value.

                Love I find is very similar to acceptance, a different branch of the concept if you will. Let’s face it, everyone has at one point dreamed of a perfect love. Not everyone carries on a romantic ideal, but in some way I believe everyone is searching for that second half of themselves. I am. Yet love comes in many forms. There is most obviously the love of family, the backbone. They teach you how to love, and how it feels to be cherished by someone. Friendship is a form of love too. When friends are there for each other, lifting one another up, inspiring, and bringing faith to their friend- this is love as well. Love is the earnest caring for another person. We all need to be loved, and in order to be loved one must have an open heart to love. True love of any kind, is one that values the individual’s being, love of the person. The romantic love is no different.

                Everyone has a purpose. It is what gives our life meaning, it distinguishes the individual from all other individuals. Every man dreams his life will have great impact, and so he searches and searches for his purpose in life. One’s purpose if he so chooses is his calling, something higher than himself, a means to do great things. Again relates to one’s identity, as we all seek to distinguish ourselves as individuals. We all want to carve our own path, and we hope that it’s a road others will look upon and smile. The purpose of one’s life is so important that it can take a lifetime to discover, and seem almost impossible to reach. A mountain. And yet when this purpose, this true purpose is in sight, we climb. The true test of a person is how hard they climb, past the crags, and drops, and rocks life can throw, and reach the top- their purpose, their dreams. These people are the heroes of our time, and among their other purposes is to inspire us to seek our own path, and to work ever harder to be a positive force in this world. Such inspiration is selfless and is something any man or woman in any position can do for others. “The wise man works unselfishly for the good of all the world.” (The Bhagavad-Gita) I have noticed that life truly matters because of those around us and how we interact with those put in our path. Our individual purpose can also be seen in our impact on another’s life. I know I would not be who I am without the guidance and friendship I’ve received from my family, friends, and mentors. One life effects another, we must all be that positive force to another life.

                Life is beautiful. And hard. Nothing hurts more than feeling like an outcast, or being unaccepted by those you should be. Nothing is more saddening than feeling alone. There is nothing more disheartening than wondering about your place in the world, or where your path will lead. And yet when one does achieve these things, that is truly a happy life. These three bridges we all must cross in our lives can be hard to achieve, sometimes they can be harder than others, but on the other side are true marvels. For nothing is greater than love, and having true relationships that accept you, and having a path you wish to steer your life in. Very hard, but worth the struggle. I imagine that life without struggle would not be life at all but a blissful dream.  And yet when life is good, it is a dream still. I end encouraging my readers to have faith against the struggle, trust in yourselves, carpe diem! Don’t just walk the road of life, live it, work through the hard times, and good will come. Be a hand to help someone up, a shoulder to lean on and a listner, a guide to someone in need, and it will be returned to you in kind.  

Rising

Rising

Eric Campos

I’m falling

The world is spinning,

My spirit is crashing,

I’m crumbling to the ground.

               

I was walking the road,

Far from home,

I was walking alone,

And the burdens brought me down,

Stone in the water.

Pain brought me to my knees,

I was an outcast, fallen.

The road had become like raging seas,

And I was lost.

Pummeling waves, tempest blows,

Stinging rain lashes my back,

As I lay broken on life’s trail,

Heavy sadness, betrayal, they engulf my sight.

The light of hope begins to black,

I cannot do it. I am defeated.

And then…

A hand.

It grasped my shoulder and brought me to my feet,

And the pain began to quell,

I no longer fell.

The light of hope returned in my sight,

I could continue the road, the fight,

I wasn’t alone,

I had a friend at my side.

There were trials still,

And pain ahead,

Many, many, more.

But as before, I had presences to keep me strong,

To give me faith.

I’m rising.

For Nick, and Mom, and all my family and friends who have stood by me, and given me the inspiration to rise to my feet every time. May the Author Of All Things, guide and protect you all.