What's the worse that can happen in any given situation? Death. What's the worst thing that anyone do to you? Kill you. Let's be realistic. One day, sooner or later, we all must die. There is a date and an exact time appointed to every living creature on earth when we will die. Some live recklessly as if death will somehow pass over them and they will continue to live forever in their present state. They hang on to the illusion that they have plenty of time to do what they need to do. Sadly, when they come about to do the things that they know the should do, it's too late. No rewinds. No tag backs. No redo. Time is up.
This article is not intended to be a depressing call of doom and despair. My intention is to relay a message. Life is short. There's much work to be done and a set amount of time to do it in. That's reality. I recently wrote a 2009 year in review of the past twelve months of my life. It really cemented the fact that from January 1st, 2009 until the present time, I have accomplished x amount of work, learning and improving. I also learned how much I did not do over the past 12 months. 2009 is almost over and when it is, 2009 is gone forever.
Once we conquer the fear of death, we banish all other fear: the fear of being rejected, the fear of being talked about, the fear of being alone, the fear of being betrayed - all fears vanish. That's when you truly become free.
Since I am going to die anyway, I'm going to die on my terms. When I realized that I would be the only person going into my grave, whether I was loved or unloved, married or single, rich or poor, why would I live (and die) by someone's terms? When I realized that I will have dogs nipping at my ankles (critics) whether I do good or bad, I stood up and took my life back. Enough is enough. That day I rose up in power and I rebelled. I took my freedom back and I became fearfully fearless.
In 1990, I graduated from a Correctional Sciences Academy in my class. As soon as I hit the compound, I discovered sergeants that had been in the system for twenty years or more. They were just biding time, waiting to collect their pensions. They walked around the yard with no life left in their souls. I couldn't do that. I wanted more. I wanted to lead. I wanted MY Captain's bars. I threw myself into obtaining that goal. I took every class the DOC had to offer, worked every position on every shift and observed shift leaders like a ravenous hawk. I absorbed every piece of information I could get my hands on, including Chapter 33, the Florida Code that governs the Department of Corrections. On my spare time, I joined the JayCees, became a Emergency Medical Technician, taught AMA-CPR to ranking officers, became involved with the local domestic violence women's shelter, created a city counsel sponsored program for victims of rape and domestic violence, the first in Cape Coral, Florida, was a victim's advocate and became a volunteer EMT Firefighter. In 1993, I was handed the answers to the Sergeant's Exam. I turned it down. I wanted MY Captain's bars. Nothing else would do. I was told I would never have those bars because I was the wrong color. They said that to the wrong person. To make a long story short (I know, too late. Ha!) I legally had the a warden, a colonel, a captain, a lieutenant and two sergeants either suspended or fired. I LOATHE racism. Did they ever give me those bars. No. I was the wrong color.
Before I retired, I returned to university, killing the entrance exam (100%) of the number two liberal arts school in Florida – the first time ever for that university. I always want to hit the heights. Took a totally new and opposite direction. In 1997, became Computer Graphic Artist. I graduated with a 3.67 GPA – honors, baby. I retired from corrections for good. I stood at the gates the last day said my last goodbye on my terms. Let's say that the inmates and old cons applauded. To the Charlotte boys, this color is still kicking ass.
(NOTE to the KKK, you should have pulled the trigger. I will always be the bane of your collective existence.)
In 1998, I graduated from a Microsoft school as a Network Engineer. Since then what have I done? I've worked for mostly Fortune 500 companies, started and ran three of my own companies, been involved in hundreds of projects and created at least one thousand pieces of art work, websites, articles, blah, blah, blah. I've been on TV, on radio, and my work is known in places like India, England, Russia, South Korea, and Germany.
In 2004, I created “The Latino Edge". I didn't know where I was going with it, but I blazed a trail into the unknown – discovering my pioneering spirit. I also discovered that I am a darn good writer. Between just those two accomplishments, my work has reached thousands globally.
I've grown mentally and emotionally to become the person that only lived in my dreams. Now I call the shots. I flow and hustle. I am free to be flexible to the chaos around me. I am not part of it but I use it to my benefit. The old guard - the old way of doing things - has been a dying entity for a few years now. The new guard, the creative oddities that once flourished in America at the turn of the 20th century, is taking over with a silent and lethal vengeance. I am part of that new guard. You can join us if you choose.
No more do you have to accept the rigid and stoic ways of thinking. Make living and creating out of the box the comfort zone. Left field is your yard and you're the Alpha dog. Meet chaos with excited energy and view it as new opportunities to flourish. Don't stick yourself in a rut of being a specialist of just one thing. Have four and five projects going on at the same time. Be more than what traditional convention dictates.
Is this about bragging? Not at all. Some of my critics will say it is. Who cares? Not me. I only mention them in passing to let my beloved readers know that no matter what you do in life, you will have critics. Lincoln, Churchill, King, the Kennedy brothers, Mother Teresa and Gandhi had their critics. Even Jesus Christ, till this day, has His critics.
In fact, I want to take this time to wholeheartedly thank my critics. Thank you! Every time you knuckleheads come after me, it makes me work even harder. You've made me into a alchemist – turning pooty into sugar. I love you guys. Keep up the good work. The harder you push me, the harder I dish it out. Thanks to everyone of you! Special thanks to the Klu Klux Klan.
To my beautiful, powerful and talented readers, hustle and flow. If one thing does work, do another and keep flexible. There's nothing wrong with wanting to do it all. Obviously, we can't. But it's going to be fun trying, huh?
Now get up off your saddles and let's get to work!