Today was an extraordinary day. My boss was promoted to Command Sergeant Major for the National Guard Bureau, the highest enlisted grade in the United States Army. The ceremony was held at the Hall of Heroes, an exhibit honoring those who have won the Congressional Medal of Honor, located at the Pentagon. I, as a well as a small number of other colleagues were lucky enough to be invited to this once in a lifetime opportunity to explore the mysterious government building so many tourists dream of.
Entering the Pentagon from the visitor’s area, I was greeted by an array of strenuous security including armed personnel, metal detectors, and full body searches. The degree of protection was obviously a necessity where the attitude of the Department of Defense was nothing but indolent. Noticing the degree of protection, I saw an older man pull out a camera to take a picture of “Fort America”–a display beside the Hall of Heroes. After the flash went off, a police officer wearing war attire drew this weapon on the civilian. We were all forewarned that cameras were not to be used unless otherwise specified by Pentagon security. If a camera was in someone’s hands and the lens cap was not attached, security would do what was necessary to protect the Governments interests. They were not willing to allow anyone the capability to compromise the surreptitious reality which exists in the building.
Our group was taken to a promotion auditorium at the Hall of Heroes near the buildings entrance. After the promotion ceremony, we were then introduced to our tour guide: Donald Ellis, the SPV Program Manager for Special Events for the Department of Defense. Before he took us on a six and a half hour building tour, we were browsing the Hall of Heroes where I spotted three thousand four hundred and ten recipients of the Congressional Medal of Honor. This is an award only appointed to by a President for extreme loyalty to ones country. Afterwards we walked toward the center of the building crossing a small city of shops, restaurants, and offices used to support the twenty-four thousand civilians, soldier’s, and contractors which work in the building. I was amazed that the Pentagon workers benefited from an actual mall of businesses they could shop at daily.
The next stop was at the September 11th memorial, where a newly renovated chapel and commemorative display was placed. While browsing the chapel, I noticed something bizarre. A name which was engraved in to the chapel’s wall was Donald Ellis, our tour guide! I was then told by the newly appointed Sergeant Major that Mr. Ellis received an award because of his contributions to saving lives on the events of September 11th, 2001. The story in which I was about to be told was one I’ve heard three years ago. Once the plane crashed in to his wing of the Pentagon, he saw daylight leading him a path to escape. Instead of leaving, he waited at the exit screaming “Follow my voice” resulting in hundreds of lives being saved in the process. His story was absolutely amazing to hear again. Especially with the lack of patriotism existing in our country today, Mr. Ellis is a true patriot and I thanked him for that.
After the memorial, we then stopped at twenty other V.I.P. locations many are unable to visit including the DoD Organization, Secretary of Defense Corridor, Army Executive Corridor, Air Force Executive Corridor, Marine Corps Executive Corridor, Navy Executive Corridor, MacArthur Corridor, Military Women’s Corridor, African American Corridor, Hispanic Heroes Exhibit, and the Navajo Code Talkers Exhibit. My colleagues have taken several photographs “legally” which I would love to share with you. Once those come available to me, I will post them on the web site to show you all.
I have always been absorbed in my thoughts, living life in constant state of meditation. Sometimes it’s disturbing to think as much as I do, but I never cease to amaze myself.
Once again, I’ve found myself unhappy where I currently work. Spending the day listening to the complaints of others, it seems no one is happy in my occupation and I can’t say I don’t agree with their frustration. A reprieve is something I could truly make use of at the moment. With so much stress occurring in my life, I can feel that amnesty is near and a great change is about to occur.
I’ve been haunted by this muse lately, telling me its time to move on. Better things are on the horizon and that persistence and patience is the key to finding it. To this muse I ask, I’ve been persistent, but why must I be patient? It’s been almost 9 months since I began bidding on contracts and yet, my persistence has not paid off–Or has it? My persistence has accompanied inextensible knowledge in my field many would never encounter. Although it hasn’t resulted monetarily, yet, I know one day (soon) it will pay off.
I ask now for the support from others, to send good vibes my way for my future endeavors. That my karma stays cleansed and I begin this next stage with a clean slate and an opportunity to shine. I think I’ll begin this so-called stage–Now!
The morning sun laid its hand across mountains but none of us seemed to ever feel its touch. Spending our lives waiting for that crisp moment of fresh air, we found ourselves instead coughing out our trifling yet ironic daily activities in to moments of selfish passion. That morning, however, the ray of light which antagonized our hearts also fueled our minds. It was probably the first situation he and I had a moment to breathe. A moment away from our stressful jobs and busy schedules, we walked through the wilderness holding hands.
“Can you believe this view?” he said, opening his arms in to the wind.
“It’s absolutely beautiful!” I replied, grasping his torso, gazing at a view which seemed to be watching us as well.
Perhaps it was our goal to live comfortably. After all, we had nothing less than any other couple: two story house, two dogs, two cats, two full time careers.
But that was only a technical flaw in the eyes of our love, which is just as real as any other relationship.
“I’m so lucky,” looking at me and smiled.
“Everyday I thank God that you’re here for me.” I replied and returned to him another smile.
We continued our walk though the wilderness, watching the trees blow in the wind, and the pollen settle to the ground to complete that last moment of summer. Although the retreat was almost to an end, and the fall was again upon us, a season of change and the end of a solstice, the hands of that morning sun will continue to warm our hearts.
“Are you tired?”
“Let’s go back to the cabin.” I said, ending our walk in to the sunset.
Dreams are an opaque distraction from reality. Sometimes obscure, they have a tremendous impact on our expectations and opportunities. Sharing dreams is a devout practice, traditionally caused to be a person’s psychological role, an instance of ones future, or an incomprehensible position on idealism. Mine, however, are not incoherent whatsoever.
Becoming successful is the most important aspect of my being. Running my own business would be the ultimate and most ideal possibility for a promotion in the next stage of my life. Most likely the one stage I actually have my heart set upon at the moment, I feel my aptitude of becoming successful is certainly attainable. My partner and I have spent countless hours becoming certified with government agencies, bidding on vacant contracts, and marketed ourselves across the board with hopes of one day being able to leave our current jobs.
San Francisco is the city of dreams, perhaps that’s why I’ve grown so attached to it. Although I live in Washington, I’ve made plans to relocate. Speaking to moving companies, posted my resume on the web, and found apartments available for rent; I still haven’t committed myself entirely.
Perhaps the sharing of dreams will assist me (and others) in becoming more successful while entering this new period of my life. What are your dreams?
Desire is a force which strengthens me to do amazing things. The support of great friends, teachers, and professionals didn’t hinder my influence either, but the true power to being extraordinary always came from within. This is where my life began. Fifteen years and an attitude to go with it, I met B on a California Saturday morning in October.
Six amateur web designers assembled outside a deserted high school computer lab as she meandered through the campus maze to finally recognize the group. She was dressed in 70’s hippy couture, in her right hand held a black portfolio, and the left the keys to her SUV. I knew at that moment she was the exception to professionalism, a remarkable business owner with niche to design and art.
She saw something astounding in me aside from the others. Pointing at me across the room, she suggested I work for her on some projects that would allow me to learn art and design to one day specialize and consult. I eagerly accepted her offer.
Seven years passed, a partnership bound a bicoastal relationship allowing us to do business across the country. Together, we had become a remarkable team. We were considered the best in the industry for creating marketing strategies, publishing, and developing interactive design. The one drawback, we didn’t make a lot of money, but we had a lot to say.
Most of our time ventured off to newer things. B became a booking agency, and then a manager for several musicians nominated for Grammy awards. I am continuing my effort as a designer and an artist, but in the Federal Government realm. I will always recognize her as someone who never ceases to inspire me. My friend among no one and my friend among all, our lives have always and will always run parallel to one another. Wherever I go, she’ll be there too.
Imagine, for a moment, if our thoughts and emotions could be shared by all. Sorrow, despair, shame, and lust would be a tools, rather than taboos, used to become better human beings. Seeing life in another perspective demonstrates a candid view others rarely distinguish permissible and a stance which would never be revealed to the public eye. If we could just be anonymous, allowing our marriage to fear leave us and be replaced with a new fear: silence.
I’d like to share my life with you, the anonym. Let’s intellectualize and be creative. When I write, reply and say something meaningful. No thoughts will be discarded nor deleted, even the hurtful ones.