Gentlemen and ladies, here before you is the writing of a troubled man. He was raised to be respectful and treat others the way he wanted to be treated. Almost naive in the sense that he believed in the natural good of mankind. Ignorance is a pathway to hate, an open mind the gateway to reason. This troubled man has always had problems letting other people into his life, preferring to keep to himself. Fear of the unknown grasped his every waking moment. Feeling called to be a modern knight, a man of values and dignity, he pursued understanding as to what it meant to be good.
Defining good is difficult, because what is right is not always good. Goodness is more often then not miscalculated as right, giving a thanksgiving meal to a family that does not have the income to support one of their own is the right thing to do, but is it good? Is it good for the children to see that donated meal and wonder why their parents cannot afford it themselves if other families can? Or to give an expectation that cannot be met every year? Giving money to the homeless man in the street is the right thing to do, but if he spends it on alcohol or drugs, is it good? People have told me I am just too good, too "nice". In everything I have read, heard, or observed, I have come to the conclusion that these people are wrong. I am not too good, I am simply ignorant of the things that they have experienced in their lifetime.
I believe in people, their strength of will and tenacity. Basic rules determine my outlook on life, respect of women, faith in God, loyalty to my country, and honesty. I have always imagined myself kneeling before an alter, sword held like a cross before me, sun piercing through stained glass windows. This image has stayed with me for years, reminding me to be humble, faithful, compassionate and brave. If I accomplish nothing else, I am still content. To me, the good life is not opulence, it is knowing that the world was made better with my presence. That someone out there, will remember me not because of my accomplishments, but because I was there. It is unnecessary to have a lot of cars, or a large house if it does not serve it's purpose.
This is my life, a jumbled heap of moral values and conflicting desires. For what I want I do not need, and what I need I do not always want. My heart says one thing, my mind another, and the warfare has continued for a very long time. I can see my subconscious as a battlefield, each individual representing a thought from my mind, or a feeling from my heart. The field already laden with the carcasses of those representatives that failed to make the cut. Be kind, be generous, be honest, be on time, be brave, and be confident. So many "Be's" have found their way into by brain, heart and soul that I no longer know how to be myself. Unless what defines me are the rules and values I place on myself, in which case I have placed a severely high level of expectation on myself that I do not always make.
In conclusion, I leave you with this question:
If I do what is right and expect a reward, is it still right?
