Tag Archives: Michael Armijo

The Loss of Life

By Michael Armijo

   I was very close to my family. I loved them with all my heart. I no longer see any of them. One day I woke up and felt that they had abandoned me. And then I drove them further away by sharing my experiences with the world. I am hurt by the loss of their lives.

   The day I opened up to my father I began a real relationship with the one I feared the most. Although I never had his complete love, I somehow gained his respect by my success and aggressiveness. After we began our journey of becoming emotionally close, one dark night I found him lifeless on the hallway floor. I am hurt by the loss of his life.

   When I met him five years ago, he spoke of fairness and honesty in life. Integrity was high on his list, but it wasn’t necessary. His fatherly personality made me confide and respect him. Eventually he became my boss, both personally and professionally. We shared secrets and feelings. We helped one another and confided in each other. His heart was bigger than anyone I’ve ever met. And then one day he developed cancer. I was forced to watch him die, and I felt helpless. I am hurt by the loss of his life.

   He’s a new friend, and I really like him. He’s a cross between an older brother and a young father. He loves to laugh and shares the same dysfunctions I do. We get along and we really care for each other. He’s now someone who I respect, and I love him very much. I consistently remind him to get plenty of rest, live healthy, and to go to the doctor when he feels sick. But I am very afraid. I worry. I am in fear. I am afraid of the loss of his life.

   They call it condition stimulus. A repetitive action that turns into a repetitive response. I love, and then I hurt. Bring out the meat sauce because I’ve now turned into the Pavlovian dog that I read about in college.

   I have a problem understanding life today; I have a problem loving people who may suddenly leave this earth without warning. I know, any one of us could die at any moment. We can get into a car accident, a plane could fall from the sky, or our heart could just quit without any warning. We cannot control it. This is just the way it is.

   Through these experiences I’ve learned not to wait until tomorrow, but I’ve also learned to be afraid to feel love today. I’m tired of the losses. I’m tired of the pain. The siblings who are hurt and hate. Others who are hurt, attack. The blame. The absurd accusations. I don’t want to go through those things anymore. Lately, I haven’t participated in my community. My heart had felt numb. Personal experiences have pushed painful scenarios within my spirit. I felt the struggle between what is, and what could be.

   Today is a good day. I feel content. I am happy. I know that whatever happens, I will look towards the positive. Whatever darkness that creeps into my life, somewhere, somehow, I will see a light. Whomever I love today, I will love completely, … today. I will not wait to hug. I will not wait to express how I feel. I will not feel pain and anguish without confronting those feelings with those who try to push their hate into my life. I will do this, each and every day, because I choose to no longer feel the sadness. This is the gift I’ve received from those who have passed. I choose to feel the many joys hidden deep inside the experiences of the loss of life.

The Power Of A Child

By Michael Armijo

We go through life and we grow, we build, we conquer, we reach our successful arenas; our niche in life. We overcome things we never dreamt we could possibly overcome. We accomplish the impossible. Then we reflect and feel this power about ourselves, the power of controlling our lives and accomplishing what we need to. We feel strong and purposeful; in control of our own destiny.

And then one day, by an act from God, a 60 pound, 4 foot 1 inch person rips away every sense of power that we’ve worked all our lives to obtain.

I’ve felt helpless at times in my life, but have always felt that I could overcome anything life gives me. But strength, intelligence, and endurance cannot compete with certain elements that come into our lives, seemingly as an act of God.  Only God could show us how love can make us feel powerful…or powerless. 

When her tiny voice cried out I could hear the weakness in the tone. She looked frail, lethargic, and felt much warmer than she should have.  I could sense the virus creeping into her weak little body; she lay exhausted and motionless as her fever climbed to 102 degrees.  My child was sick.

Motivated by strength I rise to the occasion and I’m determined to stay by her side and make her well – for as long as it takes (but deep inside I feel afraid and helpless).  Intelligence kicks in and I start the bath water running and carry her to the cool water.

Feeling even more helpless as her fever hits 104 AFTER the bath, I call for help.  The fear escalates as the paramedics take my child away and I follow them to the hospital.  As doctors and nurses attend to her my eyes fill with tears.  I spend a sleepless night at her bedside. 

I sit slumped over in a chair next to her bed, head in hands, exhausted.  My mind starts wandering, and I begin to wonder, is it worth it?  Is the responsibility of this little person too much?  Does the giving, sharing and loving balance out with the worry and fear?

 And then, I feel this soft little touch on my hand as tiny fingers try to interlace with my own.  I hear this little voice whisper, “I love you, Daddy.”  I feel the tears run down my cheeks and I’m overwhelmed with relief.  I look up at my girl and see a hint of a smile, reassuring me that she is better.  That little ray of sunshine feeds my soul, and I’m feeling better, too 

As she feels stronger, I feel stronger.  I embrace my child and feel some of my power being restored and I begin to understand.  The moment she was born I relinquished all of my power to her.  She is the source that can bring me to the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows.

And so it is with children.  They motivate us, give us strength, and show us the power of love.  They are worth every worry, every tear, every laugh, and every moment of our time.  The power of a child is the power of love. 

Don’t Cry When I’m Gone

By Michael Armijo (2001)

I’ve left this earth and you’re still here crying. Well, don’t cry now that I’m gone. You see, I’m free.  Free of the responsibilities that came with life.  I can’t hear anymore; I can’t see what you see.   I’m a pure and flowing spirit that will roam and feel the energy of life. When I shed my body I shed the tears, the pain and the torment that came with it.  I waited all my life to feel what I’m feeling now.  I waited what felt like an eternity.  I lived a good life on earth, so now I will lead a good life in my next step.  Just as I was taken from the womb of my mother and lived that life completely, I am now taken from this life to live yet another.

I am happy, as each life gets easier, stronger, better. I no longer know pain, so when you are in it, I cannot see you.  I only know love, so when you follow it, I will watch you shine.  Just as I do not remember my life in my mother’s womb, I do not remember the life I had on earth.  All I know is that I am truly happy now.   My world now is the world that I’ve built in my heart while on Earth.   My world is the one I had always hoped for.  It is beautiful.   It is wonderful.   It is mine.  But I must tell you, enjoy your life as I am now enjoying mine.  It’ll go quicker than you can ever imagine, it travels faster than you’ll ever believe.  One day you will look up and your life will be over.  Enjoy today completely and contently as tomorrow may never come.   Tomorrow never came for me.

So please don’t cry when I’m gone, be happy for me as I was always happy for you.  And please remember to live life with compassion and character, hope and pride, and love and peace, because the love you’ve embedded in your heart today is the love you’ll hold onto forever.

In Loving Memory of Michael Anthony Armijo 1/20/1964- 10/22/2020

Fear of the Light

By Michael Armijo

   Doug was a simple guy who had worked hard to be “normal.” His upbringing wasn’t the best, but Doug beat the odds and found life within his spiritual realm. He found God and decided that his true place in life was with Him; he wanted to come out of the darkness and stand strong into the light.

   One day Doug stood in line at the mini mart when a young woman walked in. He immediately noticed her long brown hair, her beautiful eyes, and her slightly crooked smile. She raced in, dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the floor, and she didn’t notice a thing.

   As he hesitated, Doug remembered his obligation to be honest. He remembered that he attends church on Sunday, and for that he just has to do what’s right. But he didn’t. The little voice in Doug’s conscience whispered: “Pick up the money put it in your pocket.”

   He picked up it up, placed it in his pocket, and turned the negative into a positive by bragging about how “lucky” he was.

   Soon after, he re-examined his actions and tried to justify them. He thought to himself: “God wanted me to have this money; he knew how much I needed it.” And then the guilt set in. He wasn’t comfortable attending church on Sunday, and began to run from his guilt by not caring anymore. Doug was now lost to guilt and temptation.

   Several weeks went by and Doug’s dishonesty grew. He felt content about his new place because he received things he didn’t earn; he took things that he didn’t deserve. His cheating the system helped him receive tangible items that he usually couldn’t afford. And then one day a friend invited him back to church and Doug was faced with a very powerful decision: Do I continue my wicked ways, or do I go back to the light?

   If Doug was to give up his newfound lifestyle, he would then have to change what he was taking from others. He would have to exchange his financial riches for spiritual ones. Honesty would once again have to prevail in his life. All the taking, which had grown into an unstoppable disease, would have to subside into giving.  But Doug was afraid of doing what was right.

   I believe that honesty doesn’t just “happen,” and to many, honesty has to be taught. To find a ‘God’- which is a true icon of honesty- is just an uncomfortable feeling that’s unfamiliar and sometimes uneasy to people.

   And although life has given me unpredictable waves that have created confusion within my own life, I sometimes still believe. And sometimes, I HAVE TO believe. I believe that there’s something out there, a higher power, an incredible universe that shines brighter than ever imaginable. I believe that when we smile uncontrollably, when we feel the presence of happiness, we draw from this power that fills our hearts with a specific peace. There are times when it’s unexplainable, when you just can’t pinpoint why. And I believe that it’s at those times we truly feel the power and the benefit of this light.

   And I hope for Doug, and for many others who have subsided into the darkness of life, that they overcome their fears. The fear of feeling content about love, affection, honesty, truth, intimacy, and the fear of anything that’s good. Because this life we live each day really is a good one, once when we pursue the truth. When we’re able to be honest and content about who we really are, where we’re going, and what we believe in. These are the elements that I believe, are the true ones that keep us free from sin, free from pain, and free from being fearful. Once we overcome these fears we’re able to openly feel the glorious rays that come from that wonderful place, which one day will guide our hearts and minds away from the deep, dark place that’s filled with the darkness filled fear of the light.

The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

By Michael Armijo

   While at the ATM drive-through, a woman straddled both lanes in a two-lane isle.  I’ve been there a thousand times and not one person has ever straddled these lanes, they just pick one.  Sometimes the line moves quickly, other times you have to wait while the cars next to you move right through.  It’s a gamble, but we make a decision and we accept it. 

   Maybe it was the long day or maybe I just felt short-tempered, but while the woman straddled the lanes, I went around her car, and I picked the left lane.  She got out of her vehicle and told me; “I’ve been waiting, you can’t go around me.”  I explained the unwritten policy of the drive-through ATM machine.  She angrily got back into her car and waited again.  As I drove up to the machine, I felt so uncomfortable.  I knew she never should’ve sat there and straddled both lanes, but who am I to react to her misdirection?  The uncomfortable feeling made me sick inside, I knew that I never should’ve gone around her.  So I backed up, allowed her to go first, calling out to her; “I’m sorry, go ahead of me.”  She pulled up to the machine, finished her transaction, and her last words were; “Thank you for being fair.”

I believe the true essence of being a complete individual begins with the ability to communicate.  The ability to express yourself and present issues, views, and concerns in a dignified, fair, and an understandable manner.  To simply be a human being.

Simple people do not get caught up in the unfairness in life.  They do not listen with anger and respond with vengeance.  They see light and are drawn to it.  They’re clear individuals that can respond with solutions and not just complain.  They respond instead of react.  And it’s their simplicity that keeps them humble and dignified.  Simple people see or experience tragedy and work through it and not around it.  This keeps them complete and understanding.

I also believe in responsibility.  Not to just go to work, pay the mortgage, and get the kids to school, but also to enforce responsibility inside, not just on the surface.  To not just promote a good life but to actually live it from the inside outward.  In a person’s life, responsibility also includes our jobs, our actions towards society, towards our fellow man.  Not to act like a good person, but to actually think, feel, and believe in the goodness of being a good person.

When I pulled in front of the woman at the ATM machine, I knew she was misdirected, and yet I reacted to her misdirection instead of responding to it.  If it meant that much to me to not wait behind someone who couldn’t make a decision, I should’ve communicated with her.  And if it didn’t mean that much to me, then I just should’ve waited behind her and not given it another thought.  Instead, I almost ruined her entire day, and who knows what that could’ve done to her family and friends.

I believe that we, as a society, need to remember how important and how powerful we really are.  We need to understand the true meaning of sharing experiences, applying yourself, being honest, open, and sincere.  It will bring you peace when you remember that you have so much to contribute to life, let’s not waste it on bitterness, anger, frustration, or unfairness.  Instead, let’s focus on the good things.

The power we hold within ourselves is worthless when we misdirect our hearts by allowing our minds to take over.  I believe the truest form of life is not just having the power to get your way, but having the power to help others find their way.  And when we see this powerful light that shines from within, we can capture it and allow those rays of sunshine to help our heart glow with a magnificent gleam that reminds us that there really is a light at the end of the tunnel.

On Being Human

By Michael Armijo

Ever since I was in 7th Grade I wanted to be a writer. I didn’t want to just tell a story or discuss life as it happened, but I wanted to share how I felt about things. I wanted to create emotion and somehow help someone understand that it’s okay to be human. I thought if I helped people understand certain things, then they wouldn’t have to go through all that I’ve endured (and Lord knows I’ve endured).
My family and friends have told me they like what I’ve written. They’ve appreciated how I’ve shared my life, feelings, and thoughts with them. This has given me some fulfillment, but not exactly what I had been reaching for completely. I guess throughout my life I’ve wanted to help people because I felt just a little bit different than everyone else, and when I wrote it made me feel a little bit closer to being human. Then one day, it finally happened.
In the first issue of our paper, I wrote an article entitled, “Some Things Are Forever.” It was a story about my father’s death, what had happened, and how I felt about it. It was one of the most fulfilling stories I had ever written as I spoke directly from my heart. A few days later something happened. I received a letter from someone I’ll call Agnes – because that’s her name. Agnes wrote of her father’s death, what happened, and how she felt about it. She wrote of how her father died on New Year’s Eve, and while everyone was wishing each other a Happy New Year, she just sat by a window with a heavy heart. She spoke of that one corner of your heart that will grieve forever, and that there is no replacement. She found comfort in my article, as she felt very alone.
“My hands are shaking as I write this,” Agnes wrote. “This touched me and helped me at a time I needed it the most.” I understood what she was saying, what she was feeling, and for the first time in a long time I realized that I wasn’t alone, either.
My 7th Grade dream became a reality when Agnes opened up. She shared something because I shared something. She reminded me that we all have a common thread; we need each other to survive. I felt reassured that my grief was shared by many and that I will survive after all. I also realized something that we sometimes forget: we need each other’s acceptance, each other’s care, a soft word, a short note, or a sign of acknowledgement from one another. We need to know that in this harsh, rebellious world, there are people like us who care, who survive, who have the ability to live, love, and laugh. We need to stick together, because life can be a battle. And with the help of others, I have realized that dreams can come true. The different emotions that I’ve experienced throughout my life have often been a mystery to me. I’ve told myself that I am just like everyone else; I’m not any different than anyone around me. But a little thought deep inside quite often tells me, you’re not completely like everyone else. When I look around at all the violence, pain, suffering, abuse and so on, I wonder what actually makes people human. Then I think of people like Agnes – who share their experiences, who’ve reached out to say that they care, who believe in community – and I realize that it’s all-inclusive. I realize it’s okay to be human after all.

Our Life: When Are We No Longer Parents?

By Michael Armijo

It was only a 45-minute drive, but I arrived at the site. It took me another 10 minutes to find his “section,” but we were soon in the vicinity of where his life was laid to rest. As I paced each headstone, I had an eerie vision of him lying beneath the surface, watching me pace the yard, while his spirit yearned for me. Almost as though he was screaming, “I’m over here,” in a silent spirit.
I walked up to his plaque and I stared at the etching in the stone. I reluctantly read the words, “Cipriano Armijo, beloved man of God.” And after kneeling down on the soft, damp, green grass, I relaxed my body over the 8 by 4 foot section of landscape that was the last home to daddy’s body. I traced each word on the plaque with my hand, etching each letter of his name with my fingers.
When I knelt, I looked down upon the freshly cut, softened soil and confessed all the things that have happened since he left this earth. I explained to the ground, and to the bronze piece of metal that bears his name, my life without daddy with hopes his spirit heard my deepest fears and my strongest accomplishments. I told him that I had hoped he was proud of me, as my life had followed strange paths that have given me journeys of learning and routines of pain. Since his departure, life had become interesting and successful, yet painful and confusing.
When I sat at his gravesite, I realized what a misconception the phrase: “I no longer have parents, they died.” Because when I knelt at his site I held myself accountable of my actions and perceptions of life, just as when he was alive. I relayed the message; “I know you’re there, I know you’re watching.” As I crept to my knees, I still had a father and I still had someone to answer to.
I believe that parents are forever. Good or bad, their behavior and their actions stay in our memories. I believe that we never end our influence on our children, we never stop being parents. That’s why it’s so important that we do a good job each day while we’re here on earth; we have no guarantee of how long we’re going to be here. When we’re gone, when our heart stops and our spirit rises to the world beyond our hearts and minds, we can only hope that we’ve loved enough, lived enough, and laughed enough for our children to remember our lives as a benefit to their own, because we do live in their hearts forever.
Someday, when our own children kneel on the soft, moist, green grass that lies our last home to our bodies, we can only hope the tears that fill our children’s eyes and hearts are tears of love that yearn for us to forever watch over their joyous lives. This will remind them that we’ll never, ever, stop being their parents.

The Eye Of The Beholder

Michael Armijo

It was a warm yet windy day filled with strong sorrow. The air reflected a deep sense of respect as people gathered to say goodbye to a friend whose spirit had left the earth.

As everyone gathered, the vibrant, wooden casket lay atop the ground as the family huddled closely around. The youngest, a young man, gazed at the casket while tears flowed from his swollen eyes. He walked up and laid his cheek on the rigid, shiny, wooden box, as his white-gloved hands gently caressed the top of the last home his father’s body would ever have. He laid gentle kisses on the top of the casket, as his unconditional love was reflected in front of all those who watched. A gentle whisper was heard a row back, “Did you see that? How sad.”

When I heard those words, I felt something deep inside that disagreed; something that didn’t see the message of sadness when the boy showed his emotions. Instead, I saw an act of love. A love so strong, it displayed the true meaning of unconditional love. Something deep inside that didn’t care if the world looked on or what people felt. A feeling of purity, of joy, and of strength.

I believe the old saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” I believe we all see life in certain light, and sometimes, in certain darkness. I also believe that when we express the darkness which surrounds our lives, it spreads like a contagious and cancerous disease. It attaches by simple contact, clings like a dependent child, and deteriorates in a short amount of time.

I’ve learned that opinions are only perceptions of a person’s immediate thinking, and reflections of someone’s inner self. What we see is usually what we feel, what we feel deep inside. Without realizing it, we express past experiences, deep histories, insecurities about our future, and we reflect the perception of our own lives.

I also believe that when we see life in its darkest hour, we have the opportunity to see life through the brightest light. For some, it’s a short path traveled to a place inside that holds our mind hostage from our heart. For others, it’s a level of confidence that sits deep within that’s been damaged by a careless act from another.

I believe that the true meaning of life can only be understood through the light of beauty and the inner joy that sits deep in our hearts. I believe the vision of what will come can only be seen through the eyes of a believer. I feel the truest form of emotion can only be felt when a person can feel the presence of a higher power, a stronger entity, something or someone greater than themselves.

I understand that life is not always what it is expected to be. It changes moods like a spoiled child. But I also understand that life can be what we want it to be; all we have to do is apply our hearts in front of our minds. Following what we truly feel, not what we think we see, is the only way to put aside our petty angry thoughts and our insignificant bitterness. Because just as the young man who helped bury his father, the tears that flow from our swollen eyes are tears of love that can only be seen when beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Make Your Backyard Extreme

By Michael Armijo

Extreme Backyard Designs is located at 2330 S. Vineyard Ave. They can be reached at 909.930.6111 or online at http://www.extremebackyarddesigns.com.

Companies come and go, so longevity is key when you’re modifying your home, both inside and out. Extreme Backyard Designs is a testimony of longevity as their family run business has been designing outdoor entertainment centers with name brand components for over 20 years.

“A key component to staying in business so long is to treat people the way we would want ourselves to be treated,” said James Deeley, founder of the family business. With so many years in business, you not only get quality products, you also gets years of experience of getting things done correctly and creatively.

Extreme Backyard Designs can provide custom Barbeque islands, outdoor fireplaces, fire pit tables, spas, patio furniture, and many other items all wholesale to the public.

“We are college and trade school educated and enjoy the interaction and satisfaction of transforming backyards into a family’s personal oasis,” Deeley said. “Since we buy at such a large volume, we always have monthly specials on our website.”

The Extreme Backyard Designs staff are the most knowledgeable and friendly people in the area, as they are centrally located on the corner of the 60 Freeway and Vineyard, right across from the newest Kaiser building.

“We believe what makes a business thrive is to provide the best quality components, a superior level of customer service, while providing an affordable price,” Deeley said.

Serving all of Southern California, Extreme Backyard Designs is located at 2330 S. Vineyard Ave in our neighboring city of Ontario. They can be reached at 909.930.6111, or you can view their website at www.extremebackyarddesigns.com.

The Great Pretender

By Michael Armijo

I remember dressing up like batman, the little Kmart suit with the plastic mask. I remember watching SWAT and grabbing a stick like it was my machine gun. I remember trying to lift the car because I wanted to be Steve Austin, the 6 million dollar man.

You would think it was healthy to give your imagination a chance to flourish, to enhance your creativity. However, without proper guidance, explanation, and influence, you never realize the difference between reality and fantasy. Without that, the lines of reality are blurred, so you embed in your mind that when life seems difficult you can act like a child and become someone you’re not.

I remember being stressed to a point that I felt I could no longer take it. So I went out, drank, and became someone I wasn’t. I pretended to be someone that didn’t exist, someone I never was and never could be. I reverted to my child like instincts and put on that Kmart batman mask, and I picked up that SWAT stick while trying to lift that car. I became the great pretender.

While acting like I was a college scholar, a big shot in my company or a racing car driver, I really felt alive. I felt like a complete human being because my mind was hungry to be complete, like a child wants to become a super hero. My lies were my super power and my reality was my kryptonite.

So as I pretended throughout my life, I liked the escape of not being who I was. Abused and neglected. Deceived and tormented. Tortured and ridiculed. Worse off, verbally accosted and left to play violent and damaging tapes of lies and pain. Pretending was an escape, which helped me not only overcome the pain I had been suffering but allowed me to feel like I was normal for a while. It made me feel as though I was a human being. Something I’ve been looking for so many years.

These incidents happened so quickly and many years have passed. However, today the memories are still haunting.

Today I will embrace my desire, to be something I’m not, to be someone who makes me feel complete. Someone who helped me wear a mask for so many years. Today I am still, deep inside,

The Great Pretender.

My Fear Cycle

By Michael Armijo

While attending a Labor Day barbecue, I sat and talked with a group of interesting friends. As we shared our lives, one person mentioned that they were in training to be a therapist. When asked about how they were doing, they shared some points that I thought were interesting. The biggest question was “why do couples divorce or break up?” There were many reasons, such as money, age, frustration, lack of confidence, etc. But one point she shared grabbed me by the heart of my spirit.
“People don’t realize that we all have a ‘fear cycle’. What happens within our lives, especially as we get older, something happens to tap into that fear cycle”. And then she went on….. “We sometimes mistake someone triggering our ‘fear cycle’ as a change of heart or as a personal attack. This can ruin a marriage or a relationship unless you are aware of what’s going on.”
Our “fear cycle” includes unpleasant memories, traumatic instances, painful scenarios, lost love, and many other life impacting, unwanted experiences.
This concept intrigued me as I’ve never heard of it before. I’ve never heard about such a thought process. This cycle can include fears of abandonment, pain, fear of the unknown, misunderstandings, loyalty, anger, and so on.
I have experienced many of these, so in retrospect, I can see how so many have tapped into my “fear cycle”. I completely get it. It wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t mine. It’s a behavior that I must understand in order to not let it impact my life.
Understanding this has taught me a few things about myself: When I get depressed I feel awkward and lonely. I feel abandoned. And during these particular times within my life, I feel I’ve been attacked by family or friends. But I now understand that something or someone is tapping into that “fear cycle”
I believe that when you’re aware of something, you have a better chance of either understanding it, controlling it, or beating it all together. I believe in fate. God put me here for a reason, and he’s put me through many things for a particular reason. More importantly, as I struggle through life, I have a better understanding about what transpires because I try to understand it, figure it out, and then fix it. And most importantly, as I am spiritually attacked, and when incidences cripple my soul, it confirms that something or someone out there is trying to stop me from making a substantial difference within my life and the lives of others. This tells me that I am of value. An enemy would never attack anyone unless they feel threatened. I am a threat to the negativity of life because I hold special abilities.
The bible reminds me that I do not have to be prisoner to my “fear cycle,” that my spirit can take me somewhere else. “Fear and trembling overwhelm me, and I can’t stop shaking. Oh, that I had wings like a dove; then I would fly away and rest! I would fly far away to the quiet of the wilderness.”

Psalms 55:5-7.
So, without sounding over religious or over spiritual, I will admit that I will continue to pray and ask God for guidance. I will continue to push myself through the bad experiences, the painful memories, the poor decisions, and the hurtful people who continually try to hurt me. Because I will acknowledge and protect through prayer and faith the biggest obstacle that constantly tries to interfere with my life: my “fear cycle”.

Lost Love

By Michael Armijo

I stood there in the courtyard, and waited.  Her little eyes, her bright smile, her warm hugs…I was waiting for them all.  It would be just a few minutes before that bell would ring, it would be just a few minutes before my little love of life would run out smiling, wrapping her arms around me proclaiming, “Daddy, I love you.”

The bell rang and I stood there.  I watched; I waited.  I sought her out, but she didn’t show.  Hundreds of kids ran by and I made eye contact with each and every one of them.  There wasn’t a chance that she would’ve gotten by me.  My mind knew what she looked like, what she resembled, and all her characteristics.  I was like a machine, scanning the crowd, like a robot with a mission.  I was waiting for someone who made my life complete, who I had given my heart to, who I trusted with my feelings, my spirit, my life.

After most of the children passed me by, I felt a sensation of panic.  I felt a sense of fear.  I was afraid that I had lost one of the only people in life that I knew loved me, unconditionally, and now, who would be there in the end?

When I felt that panic, when I felt the fear of losing someone I really loved, I wondered why. Why did I feel so fearful?  Why was I so afraid?  Why did I feel such a sense of panic?  And then I remembered what had happened.

I remembered my mother, my father, my family.  I remembered how much they loved me, how they took care of me.  I remembered giving my 8-year old heart to those who I thought I could trust.  And then I remembered how one day my life changed.  I still don’t recall how, and I still can’t understand why, but for some strange reason, when I was growing up my life was filled with love and joy, and then one day it was all taken away.  All that I knew as a child, all that I trusted, was ripped from my heart, and then ripped from my soul.  And no one explained why.

After the inconsistency of that environment, I found new love from girlfriends in high school.  And then they too, like my family, left me, and took parts of my heart with them.  I remember, at 16 years of age, standing in the aisle of Sav-on, stocking shelves, while tears poured from my eyes.  I was hurt, I was devastated, and I was alone. Again, someone whom I had given my heart to had taken away a piece of my inner self.  And again, they left without a word.

It took so long for me to love again, to fully trust people, but somehow I did. I began to give my heart, or what was left of it, to others whom I felt I could trust.  I slowly began to rebuild my life, or so I thought.

The way I felt that day so many years ago when I couldn’t find my daughter, when that sleeping giant of fear woke up and looked around – I remembered the pain, and the sorrow and I remembered how much love hurt.  I guess that when I waited for her, those feelings of abandonment returned, and I was afraid of losing yet another love in my life.  I didn’t have much heart left to lose; I couldn’t stand to go through what I had experienced so many times, and so many years ago.  But I faced those demons of fear and abandonment and grew from my pain.  I simply refused to let my past interfere with my future.  I had worked too hard to let irresponsible acts of yesterday interfere with what I had built for today. That day, I found my daughter, and I faced my fears.

As each day passes, I thank God for the opportunity to feel feelings and emotions that some people will never feel.  I thank God for being able to enjoy my life with a smile and a hug.  More importantly, I thank God for allowing me to understand that someday I may lose the ones I love, but not to fear, because today is the day I will enjoy their presence, their love, and their joy.  And when they’re gone, I will still make wonderful memories, so that I can remember that God has given me a beautiful place in my soul – free from past pain, free from fear and abandonment, and free from lost love.

 

The Eye Of The Beholder

By Michael Armijo

It was a warm yet windy day filled with strong sorrow. The air reflected a deep sense of respect as people gathered to say goodbye to a friend whose spirit had left the earth.

As everyone gathered, the vibrant, wooden casket lay atop the ground as the family huddled closely around. The youngest, a young boy, gazed at the casket while tears flowed from his swollen eyes. He walked up and laid his cheek on the rigid, shiny, wooden box, as his white-gloved hands gently caressed the top of the last home his father’s body would ever have. He laid gentle kisses on the top of the casket, as his unconditional love was reflected in front of all those who watched. A gentle whisper was heard a row back; “Did you see that? How sad.”

When I heard those words, “how sad,” I felt something deep inside that disagreed; something that didn’t see the message of sadness when the boy showed his emotions. Instead, I saw an act of love. A love so strong, it displayed the true meaning of unconditional love; something deep inside that didn’t care if the world looked on or what people felt. This was a feeling of purity, of joy, and of strength.

I believe old proverbs and words of wisdom, and I believe we all see life in certain light, and sometimes, in certain darkness. I also believe that when we express the darkness, which surrounds our lives, it spreads like a contagious and cancerous disease. It attaches by simple contact, clings like a dependent child, while deteriorating in a short amount of time.

I’ve learned that opinions are only perceptions of a person’s immediate thinking, and reflections of someone’s inner self. What we see is usually what we feel, what we feel deep inside. Without realizing it, we express past experiences, deep histories, insecurities about our future, and we reflect the perception of our own lives.

I also believe that when we see life in its darkest hour, we have the opportunity to see life through the brightest light. For some, it’s a short path traveled to a place inside that holds our mind hostage from our heart. For others, it’s a level of confidence that sits deep within that’s been damaged by a careless act from an irresponsible adult.

I also believe that the true meaning of life can only be understood through beauty and joy that sits deep in our hearts. The vision of what will come can only be seen through the eyes of a believer of life. I feel the truest form of emotion can only be felt when a person can feel the presence of a higher power, a stronger entity, something or someone greater than themselves.

I understand that life is not always what it is expected to be. It changes moods like a spoiled child. But I also understand that life can be what we want it to be; all we have to do is apply our hearts in front of our minds. Following what we truly feel, not what we think we see, is the only way to put aside our petty angry thoughts and our insignificant bitterness. Because just as the young boy who helped bury his only father, the tears that flow from our swollen eyes are tears of love that can only be understood when beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Another Planet

By Michael Armijo

Sometimes I attribute it to the way I was brought up; other times to the way my time has been spent.  Either way, deep within my spirit, there is a little piece of me that constantly whispers to my soul, “You don’t belong here.”

When I hear the word, “dysfunction,” I am reminded of my life growing up – rather the way I perceived it while growing up.  To me, this feeling seems to go far beyond just an upbringing.  This feeling sits deep within; an instinct that I don’t belong.

The feeling seems to linger like a vulture waiting for carrion to arrive so it can be fed.  During moments of weakness, I sometimes feel like prey.

One of my theories is that I just might be from another time.  Or, it could be that I can see a light that others cannot.  Maybe I have been misled about life because no one has bothered to convince me that life is what society says it should be.  Whatever the reasons, I just can’t seem to shake the feeling.

It’s a bit difficult not understanding your existence, not knowing the answers to puzzling questions and second-guessing major decisions and successes.  It’s not easy feeling ill-at-ease during happy times – wondering if I really deserve what I’ve earned, or waiting for bad news to follow good. The questions I have about life haunt me, and I carry a heavy heart.

I know that somewhere, at some time, I’ll be able to find the answers I’m looking for.  I’ll find the reasons behind my feelings.  I have hope that I do belong to this galaxy called Life; that I really do belong to the realm that understands why I feel the way I do.  When this day comes, I will finally feel at home.  I will feel deep within my heart that I am no longer from another time; a far-away land.  I will stop hearing the negative emotions whispering to my soul.

But then again, maybe I just need to come to the realization that I am from another planet.  And that it’s okay to be so.

One Year Of Love

By Michael Armijo

 

There’s a song by Queen called, “One Year of Love,” that brings me peace. The lyrics say, “Just one year of love is better than a lifetime alone.”

I’ve chosen to apply this song and this philosophy to my life and to the passing of my friends.  At times, I have chosen to sulk and miss those who were close to me, but are now gone.  Now, I reflect on how lucky I am to have had many years of love, instead of “a lifetime alone.” I am very fortunate to have such beautiful memories when others have none.

Today marks the anniversary of the death of one of my closest and most loving friends. I can cry about missing our past, or I can remember how fortunate I am to have had so many years of love and friendship. I choose the latter.

It’s during these trying times that our abilities and our philosophies are tested. I believe that how we spend these times of pain and reflection is a testament to how appreciative we are for that love and friendship. I also believe if we do sulk and wallow in pain, then we are, in a way, insulting that friendship. We are ignoring that love. The people that we love throughout our lives are placed there for a reason. We are fortunate to have such experiences and wonderful memories.

So today, I will not insult the love I received from these individuals. Today, I will appreciate that I was fortunate enough to have such valuable and priceless relationships given to me. It’s just like giving a gift to someone.  When you receive a gift, like a jacket or a warm scarf, you wear it and it comforts you when you’re cold and alone. You have that feeling of warmth and memory of their thoughtfulness with you. When that person is no longer in your life, do you throw out that jacket or scarf? Or do you keep wearing it and using it for as long as you can?

My friendships and loving memories should be the same.  I will not discard them and throw them out by being hurt and feeling sad. I will not sulk and wallow in selfishness. I will not abandon those wonderful and priceless times that enhanced my life and contributed to the success that I worked so hard to achieve and deserve. I will remember those precious gifts that were given to me and I will continue to wear them to warm my heart and comfort me during cold and lonely times.

So, today I smile. Today I enjoy. Today I remember and cherish those wonderful gifts of friendship that were given to me. And I will be thankful that I will, once again, have “one more year of love.”

Home Alone

By Michael Armijo

 

The holiday season brings many positive memories, but it can also remind me of the painful ones, too. The season is filled with family and friends, but when they are gone the pain of their absence has a tendency to sink in.

Friends have reminded me that you cannot live in the past, but I remind them, “The absence of those close to us who have passed away isn’t in the past, it’s in the present.”  Since they were always around to share their love, their absence leaves our hearts aching for their presence on a daily basis.

There are mile markers:  the first summer they weren’t here to share with us; the first Halloween they weren’t here to dress up in a costume I could make fun of; the first time I didn’t receive the usual Thanksgiving invite; and the first Christmas I didn’t have to go in search of the perfect gift.

Now, on this New Years Eve, I will struggle without the “I love you, man” drunken phone call exactly at 12:01 am.

Every year for the last 17, I was privileged enough to have someone in my life who shared those things with me:  their life, love, passion, experiences, hope, and feelings.

I know today is a new day, and I believe that I am not alone. But when those who share their life with you and give you the feeling that they will love you regardless of your many faults, failures, and shortcomings leave this earth, you cannot help but feel their absence. A piece of you that had confidence and support is now gone.  An entity of your life’s confusing and rollercoaster-like existence is gone.

It feels like your dysfunctional life is like a puzzle, with some critical pieces missing.  So you try to find those pieces through other relationships, through new loves and old friends; through random acts of kindness and honesty.

But sometimes it feels like those pieces – which you’ve worked so hard to replace – have somehow deteriorated; vanished; dissolved in your hands.  You’ve tried to stop it, but it became physically impossible. You’ve tried to “will it” differently; “wish it” to reverse. You’ve tried to close your eyes and wake up from a bad nightmare. But each day that bad dream again becomes a harsh reality.

So I call each day, with or without friends, a day at home. Those that were loved and lost had earned a place in my heart; a room in my self-fabricated, non-dysfunctional home.  But now that they’re gone, I feel a bit lonely, and a bit to myself.  And I just can’t stop that feeling that I was left completely by surprise, and left to feel Home Alone.

 

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

By Michael Armijo

 

I remember a story I once read, it goes something like this:  A frog was sitting by a pond one day and a woman walked up and asked, “What’s wrong, Mr. Frog?  Why are you so glum?”

The frog went on to explain, “I was once a handsome prince, but an evil witch put a spell on me. Now I’m a frog until a beautiful woman kisses me and breaks the spell.”

The young woman, feeling compelled to help, leaned over and kissed the frog on the head. She waited for a few minutes and then said, “What happened? You’re still a frog.”

The frog turned to her and said, “I’m only going to explain this to you one more time….”

The moral of the story is, if you believe you are beautiful, then that is what’s important.  You may not have the ability to change frogs into princes, but if you believe you can, what (or who) else matters? If others are unable to see your beauty, that is on them.  What matters is that YOU believe in your own beauty.

A physically beautiful individual can sometimes be uglier than any other, as they are morally and ethically unattractive on the inside. But an individual with great morals and a loving heart will forever be changed in spirit and transcend all that society says is beautiful.

Beauty depends on what you are seeking, and is truly in the eye of the beholder.

Green Eggs and Ham

By Michael Armijo

I’ve looked at society and the everyday human being, and I’ve come to a conclusion: I just don’t understand.

I don’t understand why some people act the way they do. They insist on playing games with others and sometimes, so adamantly, they convince themselves that life really is the misery that they proclaim it to be. They think that their position in life gives them the experience, knowledge and power to pick and choose whom they’re going to benefit.

Recently, I had an experience with someone who had the authority to make life easier for others. On the day that I was dealing with this person, she decided that particular day was not a day that she was going to help anyone. At some point in our conversation, she decided she would not be granting me any wishes. Her logic was, “Too bad.” She made a choice that because of who I am, I didn’t deserve anything from her; and I, in turn, had no choice but to suffer the consequences of the misunderstandings that were evident.

I understand that there are protocols in life, and procedures are put in place to reduce errors and increase productivity. But I also understand that there is an immeasurable element that structure, protocol, and procedure sometimes need to take a back seat to. It’s a measure I call “human compassion.”

We don’t always hear the answers that we want to, but “too bad” ranks right up there with “can’t” and “impossible”. I believe it’s not what you say in life, it’s how you say it. There is a way to communicate with kindness and integrity, and still get the point across. When we forget kindness and compassion, we sometimes lose our spirit.

Regardless of these misunderstandings in life, I still believe in wonderful things. At this time of year, especially, I still believe in the purest goodness of humanity. I still believe in the childhood premise of a handsome prince charming coming for his beautiful princess. I still believe that a gentle kiss can awaken a deep and lonely sleep because of the love behind it. I still believe in the big man in the red suit who brings toys to children on Christmas Eve.

And just like those bedtime stories of my past, I believe in happy scenarios with wish-like endings. I believe the quite convincing Sam I Am, when he tells me that that there is deliciousness in the taste of “Green Eggs and Ham.”

Perhaps we need to believe in people and human compassion more, so there are more philosophical Green Eggs and Ham moments in our lives.

 

Proud of Myself

By Michael Armijo

 

I remember closing my eyes, trying my hardest to embrace the way I felt. I wanted to burn into my memory the feeling of enchantment that overwhelmed me. I wanted the way I felt that evening to last a lifetime.

It wasn’t just dinner and cocktails with some co-workers. It wasn’t just a significant evening for someone special, a celebration of achievement. The evening meant more to me than it did to the person being honored. It was an evening in which I was proud to be included.

With my wife in my arms, I memorized the melody of the song as we slowly moved over the shiny, wooden dance floor. A glance out of the window provided a beautiful view of the city. A look around the room at people I respected and admired filled me with tremendous pride. I will never forget how it felt to be present and included that night.

When I tried to recall the last time I felt this way, it took me back to the 7th Grade. I remember failing all my classes and my teacher, Miss Contreras, helped to change my perspective. She told me that I deserved to be number one; that I deserved to be the best and to feel proud of myself. What she said worked, because I found the path that led me to becoming Student of the Year, along with top grades and a place on the honor roll.

Unfortunately, that feeling was taken from me. Abuse and neglect took those happy moments from my life and traded them for sadness and pain.

Over the years I’ve worked hard to overcome those hard times and make a positive difference in the lives around me. Just as Miss Contreras did for me, I’ve tried to help people find their own path to personal worth, encouraging people to live the life of an achiever; showing people that it can be done.

Because of who I was and where I’ve been, helping others and making a positive contribution has aways meant so much to me. I’ve always dreamed of feeling the satisfaction of making a difference – without conditions or ulterior motives. I’ve waited for the day that I knew my accomplishments were worthy of my intentions.

And that evening – an evening I will forever hold dear in my heart – I stood there with peers of mine whom I respected, with the woman I’ve loved for nearly 30 years, and I felt proud of my life. With a tear in my eye, I realized I have made a difference in the lives around me.

And just as I felt when I won that 7th Grade Student of the Year award, I had earned a feeling that no one could ever take from me. I found the path to fulfillment for what I’ve done with my life, and realized it was okay to feel proud of myself.

 

Something Is Missing

BY MICHAEL ARMIJO

One lesson in life that has stuck to me was a lesson in a psychology class. Pavlov showed his dog a ladle of meat sauce and the dog salivated. He repeated that action, eventually showing the dog the same ladle without the meat sauce. The dog continued to salivate. He called this “condition stimulus.”

I know that many times this condition has given me pleasure, and many times pain, as I’ve sought out unhealthy scenarios because I’ve been in uncomfortable but familiar situations. I did not have the opportunity to enjoy the invisible “meat sauce”.

One particular condition for which I haven’t been able to change the stimulus is the condition of death. I have unfortunately lost eight friends within the last two years, and two of those friends I had spoken to every day. I miss them both terribly.

Recently, one of my friends who had passed had a birthday. I thought about him and his family for days. I had been able to cope until someone many of us know unexpectedly lost his wife. The shock and permanency brought me back to the day my friends had passed; the horror was left for me to experience once again.

My question has to be: what does one do to forget? What’s the key to letting a piece of your life go; a piece of your daily routine? How do you forget the “meat sauce” for which you salivated with happiness and contentment?

It’s those times that were good and abandoned without reason that bring confusion. You are left to wonder, what’s next?

I know that death is a place that entertains no visitors, and answers no questions. It has no pity on any child. It steals like a thief in the night.

I will continue to seek the truth behind the confusion death leaves us with. I will try to understand why we feel the way we do. But during this quest for understanding, I will always be left with the feeling that death came and took something away. We will be left forever feeling that there is just something missing.