What shall we use to fill the empty spaces,
Where we used to talk?
How shall I fill the final places?
How shall I complete the wall?

Empty Spaces, Pink Floyd, (from The Wall)

 Today I turn a corner.  Today I take up the gauntlet and grasp full control of a life that has been running amok.  I’ve been here before.  It feels so familiar, almost like a warm security blanket.  What would my life be like without some major change to manage.  I’m running.  I’m always running.  Running from myself, I think.  Or is it to myself?  I’ve always busied myself with filling up what I have perceived as some gap in my life.  As I have rushed from thing to thing, from habit to vice, from routine to method, from sin to sin, I have invariably wound up here at this spot in space and time.  I cast off the offending thing, the tormenting noose that I so fashionably placed around my own throat.  Only now, I stand admiring the rope by which I would have ended my life; realizing at once I am both empty and free.  Somehow there is often comfort in pain.  You don’t realize how you suffered until the suffering is gone.  Then as you relish the freedom from pain you stare in the gaping hole where the tumor was bound and you know that your life must now change.  The hole must be filled, but with what?

My story has always been one of personal freedom.  No one is going to tell me what I can and cannot do.  I have rebelled and fought and struggled my whole life to define my own destiny and carve my own path in life.  I despise normalcy.  I loathe conformity.  I am a child of the 1960’s embracing the ideals of individuality and personal freedom.  Several times in my life I have reversed direction thinking that maybe the answers to life’s difficulties would be found in conforming to some social norm.  In each case I was left with an overwhelming desire to throw off those shackles and make my own way.  But alas, in my desire for the greatest sense of freedom and individuality I have continually gravitated toward and down the many paths of self-destruction.  Depravity disguised as freedom.  And at what cost?  Cost in time, health, wealth, relationships and sanity.

Do you believe in ultimate change?  Do you believe in rebirth?  Do you believe in redemption?  Oh the spiritual and philosophical implications!  Can a man find within himself the ability, desire and fortitude to fill the empty spaces left by self-destructive habits with positive practices and proactive steps to reverse the cycle of harm?

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