~ ~ ~ Whether is was deep friendship ... first love ... the definition doesn't matter. What matters is the magic of childhood innocence. Amid the turmoil of social upheaval, Two children ~ ~ ~ Two neighbors ~ ~ ~ Two young and wonder-eyed souls, shared joy, tears, adventure. The two shared life.
They played, ran, tagged, built, dug, caught, laughed, cried.
Then one cruel day, they had to part. They continued on their seperate paths to grow, make new friends, learn, mature, find special someones and fall in love, and marry. They had beautiful children that warmed their hearts like nothing they had ever known.. They lived wonderful lives.
Then one day they captured lightening in a bottle and became childhood friends again.
To all of my wonderful Opera Community friends...I have a request.
Through the power of the internet and social networking, I have been able to reconnect lately with many very special people from my childhood and teen years, as well as early adulthood. I am here today to share with you an extraordinary individual. His name is John Mark Clubb. John and I were high school classmates, and I recall him being bright, ambitious, and friendly. Little did I know the lifelong struggle he was enduring. I have never asked a favor of anyone here on Opera before..but if you...as you read these words, would be so kind, I'd be highly appreciative if you would take a few moments to aquaint yourself not only with John, but also with his cause. John's honesty, depth, struggle, and sacrifice by placing his journey upon the pages of a book ...is a celebration of the human spirit.
Here are words from his website, reproduced with his permission:
Reports of sexual abuse and assaults on boys and girls by church leaders, family members and trusted adults are every day headlines. These stories only give cold hard facts. For the first time, John Mark Clubb--a survivor of childhood sexual abuse--tells the rest of the story with unvarnished honesty about the effects of that abuse on all aspects of the victim’s life. This story is a true account of a little boy growing up in Louisville Kentucky who endured years of sexual abuse by his father, a former Baptist minister. His mother, paralyzed by her own anguish and fear could not protect him from his father’s brutality. As a man, John tried to find refuge in the regimentation of a military career, and in multiple marriages. Even though he achieved success in many areas of his life, his efforts to deal with the trauma and shame of his experiences led him to self destructive behaviors and to seek sexual relationships with men and women alike. In acting out his grief and confusion, John left behind a trail of broken people and dreams. His life continued its downward spiral until he reached the ultimate bottom. Finally, he began the journey towards forgiveness of his abusers but most of all redemption and forgiveness for himself. This memoir is a groundbreaking account, from a man’s perspective, of the real effects of abuse, both professional and personal. John speaks out about the details of his abuse and the family culture that enabled generations to victimize its children. His searing openness is told with humor, transparency and dignity and throws a spotlight on the darkly kept secrets of childhood sexual abuse. His story will serve as an inspiration to anyone who longs to claim their rightful voice and embrace their own healing journeys.
You can learn more and support John's cause by writing me, or visiting his site at johnmarkclubb.com.
I have ordered his book, and you have my promise I have no financial vested interest. I do have a deep interest in supporting a friend. Thank you all.
Melodious tones, Emanating both ~ within ~ and beyond.
Variant refrains from the orchestral score present themselves.
As we stroll through our selective memories, we find no tour guide by our side. None to urge our carriage back onto its path of righteousness...defined and validated by time.
But that is okay, for devoid of the playful clash between hopefulness and doubt, would we have the inner tension inherently needed...to fasten our ambition to its kindred yet itinerant voyaging vessel?
Wrapped around the essence of striving... surfaces the human pause of self doubt. We can squelch the rope tug, or we can surf the wave of unabandoned bliss.
Victory really has nothing to do with an opponent. More so it is a paddleball tournament versus ourself in which we are overly guarded against the frail elastic tether breaking forth and ending our quest.
Stay ardent and strong, compete as if it were your song.
The garland around your neck may be translucent and tacit, But bask in the placid... radiant beam of conquering journeying transit.
Could you just once look beyond my shell that you see? ~ ~ ~ Then perhaps the fates may allow it to be.... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ for you to see there is something unique called me.
The facade that is my outer skin is but to be....
~ ~ ~ Just a small part of that something unique called me.
I have depth of understanding, ~ ~ a labyrinth of commanding, ~ ~ ~if you were to See something unique called me.
If you were without sight, and heard only my voice, If you just once walked in my shoes for it was your choice, ~ ~ You may just then..... ~ ~ ~ ~ You may just begin, ~ ~ to See something unique called me.
WIDGETIZE