The Lottery

Why do we celebrate the end of a year? Were we so tired of the present that we believe the unwritten book will be better tomorrow? Billions of dollars are made by your sacrifices. Building a better body. Cleaning out cluttered closets. Minding more of your own business rather than chasing the tales of other people's drama. We invest our lives and bank accounts in daily lottery tickets. Without ever realizing you win every day. The song featured is titled Especially For You. Coming from my 2002 completely un-perfect cd They Think I'm Weird So I Proved It. John Nagem is on the piano. The lyrics are about second chance and expected change. I see the rebirth of love every day. Couples getting married a second and third time. I bring no judgment. I offer an open palm that simply says, "I was someone before we met, I hold no secrets. Yet there will be times when my heart pries itself free from past pains that you had nothing to do with. All I ask for... is your unconditional love. So we can grow forward.

Light In The Sand

Endless amounts of weather eats away at the strength of your mind body and soul. The human figure is a rock. And like all mountains we wither away with each passing storm. Your rock becomes sand. Where then does your sand wash away to? Because its no longer part of your rock. Does that mean its gone forever?

I Just Wanna Fly: Stupid Brave

Several times a month I hear from frantic parents whose teens have exposed an addiction to cutting. As much as I vocally persist in pushing them toward psychiatric treatment. They want their sons and daughters to talk to someone that's beat the battle. I share deep conversations with them based on the enormous amount of time I spent with psychotherapists that reached deep inside of me to help locate a clue. They studied me. I studied them. They taught me to study me. I know of the reasons and still find it difficult to deal with today. But I hold in my fingers not a razor or sharp object. But a gift. Not from a doctor but my creator.

Make Like

It's not that I don't celebrate the holidays. I do so everyday! But once November to January appear on the map. I tend to run away from people and oddly shaped cookies. I've grown tired of the "Make Like's" of the world. Family, friends, coworkers and people you'll never see again that "Make Like" they embrace love, life and all things in between. We. Everyone of us. A united nation. We "Make Like" a lot. Then judge. The song featured at the end was inspired by the word formations and sketches featured in my latest book Scramble Eggs. The song is called Photograph.

Why Write?

As a Martial Artist we're taught: Nobody can master the fine art of doing it all. At birth. You're given one thing to master. When you locate it. Your agreement with God is to teach it. Sit and spin. Look all around you. Spin again. Then again. A lot of people flood your present and future. But how many of God's artists are teaching you what they've mastered? I penned out a song in 2010 called Kicked Out of Heaven For Asking A Question. 10,000 times. Maybe more. I've wanted to re-write the lyrics. And yet. Maybe there's a reason.

The Survivor

Does a sentence truly end the moment there's a period or question mark? What if a thought could last longer than a rock being skipped across a faceless lake in Montana? On August 2, 2013 I sat inside Elevation Blakeney and penned out an unprotected view of today's modern survivor. Today. December 19, 2013. I read what had been written four months earlier and couldn't believe how much it sounded like one of my songs brought to life on December 5, 2010. Fascinating to me isn't what we say. But rather. How we use the words to help heal what we can't see. When in reality. It's always been there.

The Saddest Love Song

I love sitting with writers. Listening to how they feel when words move through them. Poets, authors and commercial copy writers blend in with the wind. Not because its the golden writing rule. It's a learned art based on communicating with invisible faces and voices. From places so far away that writers tend to giggle when a gurgle of words pop out of Heaven. Sometimes they're light. Other moments the weight of the luggage far exceeds the limits of every airline and yet as a human you don't get to charge the passenger more money for the ride. You were born to write. Whether its a sentence or 15,000. Writing moves you closer to God.

The Path

Being great. Having talent. Taking success to newer levels of success isn't an overnight process. In 2013. The age of I Want It Now. Has stolen from the depth of a photograph. Rarely does anyone look at the background. They check the smile. The hair style and quickly pass it forward. How can we ever get to where we were meant to be if the path is everything but clear?

Facing The Cost Of Doubt

There's not enough Red Bull or candy flavored Vodka to help ease the pain shooting through you by way of being overtaken by doubt. Where does doubt begin? Seriously! Millions of people can coach you out of doubt. Lets locate the seed. How does it take root? I don't brag about being able to spot a depression two weeks before it happens. God gave me a tool. It's through him that we take numbness and rip the mask off its purpose. It's still a feeling.

Cultivation

I look around and count the times "Great" things happen in society. Over the loud speaker the giving is applauded. Then I instantly become lonely. A feeling. Not an emptiness but more of a mixed message. Givers rarely if ever offer thanks to their Mothers. In victory at sporting events and workplaces. In a heartbeat the message is shared. But what happens when society calls and determination is challenged? Through struggles there comes change. Little things begin to blossom forward. But barely, rarely if ever does anyone say thanks to their Mother.

John The Prophet

What are the chances that God sits in Heaven everyday trying to come up with newer ways to silence the mouth he assumed would be used to help spread his word? Picked up and tossed about like unwanted trash is our attraction to the misuse of the language. And yet I believe God uses what we say to bring us closer to his unconditional love. The song featured has helped shape my new book Scrambled Eggs. I penned out and produced I Believe because an ark not built to float becomes part of a passing shore making its way to the ocean.

Supposed To Be Versus Made To Be

Bosses tell you what to do. God never tells you. He asks. Then he shows. We spend countless hours mopping up the messes caused by not living up to the expectations of a boss. When we feel we haven't lived up to God's way of thinking and loving. He never yells. He never holds a grudge. He says, "Ok... lets try again a different day."

Modern Makers

Sometimes it hits you while driving. Other times it might enter your process of thinking while walking through a mall. Raking leaves in the front or backyard. When you least expect. God says something. It becomes your choice to hear it. React to it. Believe in it to the point of sharing it.

Tommy

Are you familiar with the Rock Opera Tommy? The song that's always stood out is See Me Feel Me. Outside the realms of pictures helping to share Tommy's story. The innocent passerby latches onto their own interpretation of the lyrics. Naming their own boulders on the path toward the horizon as being blocker of all things that might lead their deepest ambitions toward a reason and purpose. Have you ever stopped to think the two eyes looking back at you in the mirror is in face God studying the mold of his creation? Hear the song See Me Feel Me from The Who

Pieces Parts Don't Make Great Chicken

In 2013 life in America is based on how far the average can spread themselves too thin. From corporate cutbacks to Obama-care to the high cost of living without new income feeding the banking system. We have evolved into a shape. Pieces parts. Then expected to continue giving at a higher level of performance than any other time in history. Rather than shed our skin like snakes moving forward. We spend whatever time is available trying to glue back together our pieces parts. Rather than bathe in a pool of peace.

What If?

Two extremely close friends with teenagers are caught within the same battle. Neither of them know of their comparisons. Neither have met. Neither hold answers. If you've ever wondered why things happen along the way. What if? The reason why it gained so much fame inside your emotions was because the best teachers are still students?

God Controls Ticketmaster

Paths. Foundations. Intersections. Stop lights that always sit on red but your heart only sees green. Constantly questioning. Without ever arriving.

Shepard's Pie

What if we could find the answer to all our questions? Would anyone be any happier? What if you could change your name every time your moods changed? Might there be a new face waiting around the next corner?

Breathe

There should be a written law that states every human should without question be part of a Martial Arts tournament. The strongest doesn't win. The student with the best kick, punch and block doesn't always sit on top with a gold medal wrapped around their head. Learning how to properly breathe wins matches. Life is no different. Tell me which day of the week you least expect to be challenged. What are plans when all things connected change without notice? Breathe. Your strength from the inner core sends out waves of energy others feed off. In Tae Kwon Do we call it the Dawn-jun region. The more I studied the Dawn-jun the more I began to understand the importance of breathing. Your soul isn't in your heart. Its located in the energy maker Dawn-jun. Wear your pants too tight. It affects your moods. Sit too close to a desk where your stomach is bumping up against it. Your breathing is a mess and so is your energy. I will never be a Master at forms and delivery of great punches and kicks. But within seconds I will know if you are breathing correctly. That's how I've won gold.

I Believe

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio A second degree black belt in Martial Arts. I left because my heart was screaming for something to feed my mind body and soul. Push ups and sit ups, kicks and punches, blocks and remembering your forms and defenses weren't enough. I looked at my Master and asked, "What if I am one of the Monks that created Martial Arts and God is asking me to take my training to a higher place?" He responded, "I can't give that to you here."

Arks Are Built Everyday

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio A fellow broadcaster writes to me, "Help me find my way. I want to be extremely successful in radio. I can't seem to locate the open door." I wrote back to the fellow broadcaster, "Stop trying so hard and give yourself to the universe. Know why you have been chosen to broadcast. Until you do. Then you should feel like your world is sinking."

God's Clowns

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio Something strange. But not unique happened one day while walking toward my third degree black belt test. I wasn't having problems remembering my forms and defenses. I stood in the mirror one morning and realized I hadn't been living. Religion is so much like the colored rainbow of Martial Arts. Barely a soul can wait until they graduate to the next level. Then when it comes time to use a valuable lesson. The intruder is asked to grab the other wrist...and hold it this way. Because that's the way it was taught in class.

I Give God Grief He Gives Me Snow

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio I blame my total openness on the physical act of being a free spirit from the state of Montana. Mom and Dad lived life bluntly. Nobody pulled back. When there were chores not a child stood around complaining nor coming up with excuses as to why it didn't fit within their standards of performance. I still carry that winning attitude of letting no mountain stand in the way of gaining warmth from a setting sun. And no day passes that I don't hear five to ten times a day, "You are a jerk!" I just hand it over to God.

Challenged To Trust

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio I've never believed that "Trust" can be sold. It's too easy to give it away. Peer pressured into trusting. Only to become bruised and extremely cold. "Trust" is an overstatement. "Trust" injures more than it heals. Like "Love" "Trust" purchases other people's happiness. But what happens when the only thing you've got is "Trust?" Do you? Or have you spent it on things you truly didn't need?

The Process Of Flow

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio Is it ok to chuckle when paths cross with other Christians filled with more vigor than actually living the lessons? Being a second degree Black Belt in Martial Arts. I fall witness to multiple comparisons between the sport and word of God. Landing that first Black Belt requires time. Just as much as becoming a better person. We go through the motion of "Being" but to physically "Live out" what's truly taught seems to be what's left along side the highway of life. The flow of a raindrop communicates to the mind body and soul a journey. I come with no red pens to correct and or bring attention to. But are you living the path or just playing along because the belt looks good?

Have You Met Bill Waterman

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio Shakespeare wrote, "To be or not to be." Today he might write, "To take then to think about giving." As we enter another season of giving. I'll probably walk around with my head hung. Shy to look in the eyes of a nation said to be so giving. And yet I see the number of taker's staring back at me. Quietly I ask, "What are you doing in your community?" Their swords drawn. I am verbally attacked. It just happened ten minutes ago. God has a way of making peace. He located the path that led me to Bill Waterman. Discover Bill Waterman

Co-workers Aren't The Enemy

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio Being employed carries with it an endless amount of constant demands and expectations. Threats from department leaders that fall under the category of "Bullying" But adults feel only children deal with that on the playground. Fingers are pointed. Words become sharper. Hatred fills the flow of what should be creative. Why would it be any different than what Jesus felt? Didn't he walk in peace?

Snakes Shedding Skin

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio One of the most fascinating thinga to hold is sheet of paper that's still snuggling up to words put into motion by your writing hand. Dropped off nearly a year before, And what you thought, assumed and or kept true fifty two weeks before. Still cradles the questions that invited darkness to a path that should have been carrying light.

We Learn By Watching Other Creations

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio You can't be part of the Entertainment industry and not be surrounded by a lot of wants a needs. You can't be a Martial Artist and not battle daily with students who've dedicated their lives to earning a strip or darker belt. The greatest creatures outside the realm of human don't sport uniforms of victory. While walking through a forest I've never heard and owl screaming for more darkness. Humans run inside while its raining. What if it was a form of communication?

Thoughts Are A Gift When Shared

Listen on I Heart Radio The destination of a single thought is like an echo set free from a mountainside. Hardly a soul can predict who, what and where it will land. Even fewer will understand the truer message and why it was delivered. Therefore the majority of this nation has elected to stay silent.

God At Work Versus God In His House

Listen on I Heart Radio The most energetic room to become part of is Elevation Church Blakeney. Every Sunday. Before the lights go out. I write three pages of whatever hits me. No judgement. Writing instrument. Paper. Listen to the presence of energy. This week: How we take our jobs to God. But we rarely if ever take God to our job.

Riding Through Mountains

Listen on I Heart Radio One of the most brilliant lessons taught in Martial Arts isn't the knowledge of perfecting the best block, kick and or punch. Balance is the secret to spiritual growth. But to achieve right from left versus center structure. There needs to be a visual of the self that which you carry to the mirror.

Your Voice Can't Be Silenced

Listen to it on I Heart Radio Constantly. Not just since the Recession of 2008. I've been given every reason as to why friends, family and students have elected to quit. What makes it right is the new design placed over the old attempt. Goals and dreams soiled over by more attempts. Why won't they go away? Because your mind body and soul have goals that rarely if ever agree with the outside shell.

Rose Blossom

Listen to it on I Heart Radio I challenge myself every day to feel. I believe numb is still an emotion. Therefore learning to trust it involves knowing how emptiness arrives in your life.

Faceless Beast

Listen to it on I Heart Radio Are we a society addicted to "Great" times? When the ticks on a clock ring "Reality." Unveiled in the corner of every eye is the lurking of a Faceless Beast.

We Were Born To Write

Listen to it on I Heart Radio Being controlled and or under the control of others has grown into a National epidemic. We've lost our will to make the art of decision making the one gift God gave us at birth. So we let others choose for us. Then spend the rest of our reasons for being alive under the watchful eye of a leader that maintains the path that makes you extremely sad.

God Never Terminates His Purpose

Listen to it on I Heart Radio The way we live must now include blankets of workplace imperfections. We walk about. Stroll through hallways. Bend the ears of Face Book friends. Tweet to outsiders. But almost never depend on friendships with coworkers. The modern day business platform isn't designed for relationship. That doesn't mean you have to change.

The Wait Of A Rock

Listen to it on I Heart Radio The wait of a rock. What it weighs can break your back. It's the wait that offers strength, stability and faith. No matter how hard the wind. How hot the summer heat. How freezing winter ends up being. The greatest storyteller on earth will always be the rock. We want everything right now. No waiting! We aren't rocks. There's a side of me that believes we don't even make the cut for sand.

Knock Knock Knock

listen to the podcast I don't know if I could live life in a world where the TV remote doesn't exist. Smart phones, IPads and IPods have changed the way we breathe. They make life easy. I once spent days researching artists and writer's for my Radio broadcasts. Today it's click click click. We are a blessed generation. Then God says, "Hello my name is..."

When You Lie To Yourself You Invite Change

Listen to the story on I Heart Radio It's completely natural to assume you can't be broken. Hollywood movies feature flicks based on strength, agility, speed and endurance. And even after you've been cut up, beat up, shot up and tortured. There's still enough fire in the pit to heat an entire city. Yeah ok. That's what I call telling a lie. To the self that's been hired to carry your weight toward the horizon.

The Window Washer

Listen to it on I Heart Radio We spend so much time watching the face of a smart phone without realizing the faces of family, friends and people we'll never meet just walked by without sharing with you the keys that could have unlocked your dreams and helped them come true.

God's Foreign Languages

Listen to the sharing on I Heart Radio I have never left the path. My choices were to explore every corner. And in doing so. I became empty.

Seriously Thinking About The Next Step

listen to the message on I Heart Radio Through Native American studies we learn that today's steps affect the next seven generations, Decisions to build. Break a part. To set free a loose tongue or make your way of speaking too difficult to teach. How we guide our ship toward the final horizon may seem fitting for the moment, But after the sails have been folded. The ropes of everyday life become too tight for the mindsets of tomorrows children to to hold by way of shaping their own chapters of peace.

Rediscovering Faith That You Can Trust

Listen to it on I Heart Radio The one foundation that once kept America moving forward was the workplace. Now that jobs are in short supply. Having the strength to rediscover success is falling short. Who can you trust? How can you have faith in yourself if everything around you is failing?

Addicted To Smartphones

listen to the story on I Heart Radio Everywhere! Concerts. During dinner. Walking through downtown. At church. In the car. Along side a mountain. Pictures of the present are being snapped. Without putting real focus on the reality of where we truly stand.

Two Faces Of An Everyday Generation

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio To go along with is the Politically Correct motion on a moving path. Accepted is the behavior after the arrival. What seemed brilliant and fun. Like an amusement park actually became a source of energy that couldn't be related with. Having to live up to other people's expectations should never silence your reasons for wanting to share.

Everybody Needs An Ed

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio No church is too big. No religion is too bright. The only thing standing in the way of true happiness. Is a decision to judge. Reassess. Rebuild. Tear apart. Then sit in silence wondering why God still hasn't given you a purpose.

Take Back Control

Listen to it on I Heart Radio Amazing is how well the Stock Market is doing. But the rest of America still sits on the brink of a Depression. Amazing is how strong bosses and coworker's think you are. But ten minutes in the bathroom ends up being what feels like a final goodbye in the mirror. God gave you the strength to be in control. Stop giving away what rightfully belongs to your creator.

Wal Mart Doesn't Sell God's Love

listen to the message on I Heart Radio How do you locate happy? How much does happy cost? What are you willing to sacrifice to dance with happy? Can being happy be the only key to living a happy life?

Conversation With The Devil

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio Living life to me... Is accepting the idea that I'm constantly on tour. Fifteen to twenty hour days. Endless demands on taking people to a higher level of creativity. Then one morning. 3:45am. God whispers into my ear, "You're going to write a book. Your guest is going to be the Devil."

Be Yourself First

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio What is the true cost of marketing yourself? What have you sacrificed in the art of looking approachable? How has the 2008 recession changed the path once deemed unstoppable? There is no American dream in 2013 except to survive another day. What is there to look forward to? Other than the self that continues to meet eye to eye with you in the bathroom mirror.

Fruits From Giving

There's a classic book still standing on the elementary school library shelf that spells out the story of a little boy that grows all too quickly. Right into a pair man eyes, middle aged toes, old man shoulders and several chapters of "I wish I could have." With him the entire way a onetime seedling turned very tall and extremely green tree. Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree teaches valuable life lessons in the way of respecting all things living and everything connected. Once a book's been read. It's set the side often forgotten. Until the day. That particular moment. When all things bright beautiful and forever ends up staring back at you in separated mirrors. Nobody expects to one day walk down a boney mountain path headed toward an unpainted horizon with a former hairless puppy turned wonder dog now brittle, chilled and completely torn as to how he or she is going to say goodbye. I thought maybe. Just possibly. A little selfish to think. If someone rescues enough heart strings from being pulled by bad bullies attached to societies upbringing. Numbness becomes the way of rule. I can still smell the southern Carolina air that bit the midwinter's day the moment Sami and I crossed creeks while chasing wandering clouds. Huge brown eyes. A wild head of white hair. But that's it. Not a lick of protection anywhere since. He's Chinese Crested. He had traveled several hundred miles already. I was the half way point. The middle of the bleak streak dedicated to locating a lucky clover. To swiftly turn around. Crank up and help heal uncaring chapters that I couldn't erase but that meeting forward...I knew I'd change. A bouncy boy! Rabbits and grasshoppers had nothing on this living creation! And talk? Wow! A roll it around in your throat type of moaner that believes everything spoke in dog is easily understood within the grips of human ears. I was constantly stuck in a pit of mud assuming I knew exactly where Sami was coming from. Dog stories are rarely different from tree tales. Seasons evolve. Summer turns into Fall. Winter into Spring. Summer then becomes summer again. Winter becomes the day you question everything. The favors are no longer puppy hugs and tugs but stuffed under the corner of the heart middle of the night nose to nozzle conversations. A simple thank you seems to work for a while. Then after a night of coughing the paw is held. He's tucked tighter under your body as if to say, "No wind of change can penetrate my extremely hard human shell!" We got to visit the puppy spa owner the other day. She's multiple in medical training years. Me and my Sami. His heart she did listen to. Pat pat pat on his fuzzy head. She didn't seem to be bothered by him no longer walking. Then again I might have covered that but don't remember because so much of him is still missing and I'm trying to collect everything. She loved how Sami still goes camping. Takes puppy buggy rides through the neighborhood and gets extremely excited when I walk nearby. Then she took his blood. Never once trying to hide. We both know. The time. It's coming faster than yesterday arrived. Holding true. And his paw late into the night. The coughs are always. As is my love, friendship and complete understanding. For he needs to know. That everything he brought with him on that cold Carolina winter's day has never left the shelf where my life story books are shelved. His look into my eyes last night seemed to say just the right message, "If you find yourself trapped and well worn of this planet... I'm gonna be the "impossible" you put away because it was much too heavy in weight. I'll be the whisper that warms your dreams. I'll be music that magically appears when walking. I'll be the mask you want to hide behind. I'll be the bench in the center of an invisible park with a sign that reads: 120 steps to Heaven. 13 to Hell. You made a choice in your life to love me unconditionally. Death doesn't part. It's my turn to catch the cloud that'll make you bark. I can't and won't say I miss you. I refuse to cry a tear. There's a classic book still standing on your library shelf that spells out the story of a little boy that grows all too quickly. Right into a pair man eyes, middle aged toes, old man shoulders and several chapters of "I can't wait to do it again and again."

I've Been Texting God Since Birth

Listen to the message on I Heart Radio Put a pen in my hand and I'll write for you. Put a pen in my heart and I'll say. "I love you." Julia Cameron was the first to shout, "We were born to write!" Everybody before that 1994 meeting did everything they could to silence my writing. I've spent the past nineteen years busting down walls and doors trying to get to closet writers. To help them understand how much peace they can and will live if they just stop turning off the light that gives them their right to write. Oh... the photo next to the page is not me. That's Hemmingway.

Page One: Hello Clarence. It's me looking back from 50.

The idea came to me this morning. As a Blogger I write about anything. Nearly everything. Almost about nothing. I write to write. To hear music flowing from outer space. Oh great. Now you think I'm just another freak, nerd, geek, weirdo wanna be that spends what little extra time he has spitting out words like Little Leaguer's chewing on sunflower seeds. This is gonna be my Blog. I'm Arroe. I've always been Arroe. No matter how many times I change. Including my name. On paper. I'm still Arroe. I create. What? A mess. A mess of hope, fear, desire, greed, need and wash it all away with pre-workout powders vowing to give you a bigger better rush than Red Bull, Monster and Rock Star. This Blog is gonna be my place. I won't be the radio jock. I won't be the commercial copy writer. I don't even wanna fall into the ranks of producer, musician, artist with a paint brush, poet, published author, university lecturer or second degree black belt. I'll still be the martial artist but with a white belt approach to living one moment at a time. I have a hard time talking about what I do and what I've done because I've never truly been proud of it. What comes from me isn't me but rather a reflection. I do what others have done. I feel more than I listen. I speak way out of place. If my stepfather was still living with me he'd knock me clear across the street. Call me a know it all. Force me to pull nails from a large 2x4 then send me out to take care of the chickens, pigeons and nearly 200 rabbits. I pretty much lead an Arroe life. The moment someone finds out I write. I instantly send up the walls of protection. People don't understand writing. They think those doing the writing just happened to pick it up during a boring weekend. I wish it was that easy! At times I hate myself for picking up a pencil in the second grade to document what was racing through my imagination. Cars at the time. Pictures. Hundreds of them from Mrs. Keefe. "Here!" She said, "Stop talking in class and write me something." In several hidden away places I still hold the wide lined elementary school pages my seven year old fingers touched first. "One day I'm gonna be a writer! I'm gonna keep this stuff for the museum!" I'd think to myself. Breathing in a huge lung of unpurified radio station air. I sigh to myself knowing I still know that kid. His name is Clarence. This is gonna be his Blog. It'll be updated. A lot. No really! Arroe talked a lot in class. Outside. In real life he hasn't changed! Do you know how many times I look at Arroe in the bathroom mirror and scream, "Shut up! Just shut up!" Looking on my fingertips. Scarred by bike crashes, changing parts on car engines and other sharp things. I often wonder what they think of Arroe. A laugh. A single one. Almost like a burp. Makes itself present. Then Arroe gets serious. For the love of God that little voice is a pimple that just won't go away!