tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45751024949494443972024-03-05T00:13:15.180-08:00The Artist Within, Poems and Storiesscottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.comBlogger298125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-48998736232042629052020-06-01T10:47:00.000-07:002020-06-01T10:47:15.062-07:00The FatherHe comes home after a hard day at work. Sits down to the table with wife, daughter and daughter's boyfriend. The kids are so joyful, reminds him of when he was young. Full of spirit. But those days have long gone. He has been seasoned. He is a company man now. He thinks back to those days, living in the small town in Vietnam, with thatched roof.<br />
<br />
He thinks back to when he dreamed of being a writer. His father wanted him to put a good head on his shoulders and determined to argue the dreamer out of him. But his stubbornness would not let it go. He was determined to become a writer.<br />
<br />
Then, the country and war hit. Like all dreams, life has a way of coming through. Smashing face to face with a dream, draining all of that dreams blood, the air it breathes. But no sudden death, no ripping off the band aid, quickly. A slow painful death. That time, purposefully developed the first masculine trait, as he remembered deciding to give up on his dream and learn mathematics just to survive. Mathematics was his ticket out of the hell hole and the birth of a new life, a dream in and of itself, in America.<br />
<br />
He looks across the kitchen table at his beautiful wife. He could not have eyes for any other woman. She patiently, kindly speaks to him and does not beat up on him as he has seen so many women do to their husbands. And for that he is grateful. She is classy and graceful, day in and day out. His gratitude shows in the car that he drives, a beat up, old grey car. He serves her daily. And she prances around in her red convertible Celica, though she is much older, it makes her feel like a twenty something, the envy of many women around her. A puppy with a brand new collar, gifted with love. She knows she is prized. He grabs some food, the last to eat at his own table. He does not ask for acknowledgement of his contributions but silently serves. He does not complain about his daily burdens because he remembers those days of struggle.<br />
<br />
When he arrived in America, he discovered that he not only had to give up writing to learn a subject he hated, mathematics. But in Silicon Valley, before it even was Silicon Valley, he discovered that he would yet again have to deviate further from his passion to learn computer science. And he did.<br />
<br />
From small village in Vietnam, to a nice suburban home where he could enjoy his family, his wife and daughter, to the mansion he had just bought. They purchased the house before it was even open and he could easily sell the house to turn a profit. But it represented so much more. Prosperity he had built for his family.<br />
<br />
He looked across the table at this kid, this boy, who pursued his daughter. What was he to do? Did this young man, who knew nothing about life, who knew nothing of the world or life's struggles deserve his daughter? And on top of that, he stood in the way of her developing a career and a place in society where she would be well taken care of. Something, he fought so hard for.<br />
<br />
But the young boy, has no place to live. And a man's father does not have to be the same person as a man's genetic father. Dinner finishes and he excuses himself from the table, entering his office. Dialing a number. "Hello." "Yes, I was calling about the apartment, is it still for rent?"<br />
<br />
As the conversation ended, he hung up the phone wondering what the boy had remembered...<br />
<br />
As a millionaire, he took this young man to the flea market and bargained over dollars for a bicycle. The message. Do not let your pride get in the way of doing what you need to do for your family. For that is something to truly be proud of.<br />
<br />
As he spun out on the freeway, the young boy drove closely behind. He explained to the whole family that the young boy was such a great driver and the house erupted in laughter. Yet again, showing humility.<br />
<br />
And in the weeks to come, he would pay for the young boy's apartment. "You will have two months to get a job and find a way to pay for the next month's rent, or you will have no place to live."<br />
<br />
Time and seasons of life, slowly separated the young boy from his daughter. Through time, however, those actions, unnoticed by many, became more powerful teachings than any lecture ever could.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
June 1, 2020scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-69461386018515754422020-04-05T15:30:00.000-07:002020-04-05T15:30:27.607-07:00Rain DropsEverytime I feel the wind,<br />
<br />
And listen to the sound of rain,<br />
<br />
And yearn for the warmth of fire,<br />
<br />
I think of apline snow,<br />
<br />
And lovers in a gondola ride,<br />
<br />
Love can keep us warm.<br />
<br />
I see that picture of you smiling,<br />
<br />
And remember how your joy,<br />
<br />
Brought me joy,<br />
<br />
Living through laughter and tears,<br />
<br />
The ups and downs<br />
<br />
And accepting one another.<br />
<br />
How the time has past,<br />
<br />
And the years have faded.<br />
<br />
But a million triggers,<br />
<br />
Highlight a distant thought,<br />
<br />
Painful memories,<br />
<br />
And make my lower left ribs tight,<br />
<br />
Like a knot with no release,<br />
<br />
Painted under a thousand wounds.<br />
<br />
You were my first,<br />
<br />
And still fairy tales exist,<br />
<br />
To be my last and everything.<br />
<br />
Eastridge and prom,<br />
<br />
Glimpse of peas in a pod.<br />
<br />
Do you ever wonder where they are?<br />
<br />
The two meloncholies,<br />
<br />
Live like distant stars,<br />
<br />
Faint though they shine so bright,<br />
<br />
The two sanguines,<br />
<br />
Destined to have crossed those lines,<br />
<br />
Still keep in touch.<br />
<br />
Time goes by so slowly...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright 4.5.2020<br />
<br />scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-31727523052257392752020-02-27T06:37:00.001-08:002020-02-27T06:37:09.779-08:00Lost MasculinityWhere does the young man go?<br />
<br />
In a society that hates men<br />
<br />
Or a culture that provides no guidance<br />
<br />
When no masculine outlet exists<br />
<br />
Sexualized images seduce<br />
<br />
A woman becomes that everything<br />
<br />
Exacerbating the problem<br />
<br />
Two young people meet<br />
<br />
Not knowing themselves<br />
<br />
Not grown themselves<br />
<br />
Replacing community with each other<br />
<br />
Putting the weight of the world on each other<br />
<br />
Prematurely leaving the family unit<br />
<br />
Prematurely finding a new tribe<br />
<br />
Neither can fill such large shoes<br />
<br />
Neither can be the answer<br />
<br />
Combustion ensues<br />
<br />
Can we not build foundations of values?<br />
<br />
A platform of purpose?<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright February 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-57345458606447052142020-01-19T11:56:00.000-08:002020-01-19T11:56:07.316-08:00Seasons and Stages<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Rose grew up in Southern Texas. Her mother and father owned a small ranch. Every morning, she got up early to do her chores. Then, she would go off to school.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">In elementary school, she just went through the motions like every other kid. She tried to do what she was supposed to do and did not question anything around her. She was shy because some of the other kids made fun of her but she did not really think much of it.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">When she hit middle school, the worst happened. Her mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Her health deteriorated in 6 months and it was a blow that left Rose wondering what just hit her because it all happened too quickly to process.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">The next few years, Rose became more filled with solitude. Her world had been shattered and she was left powerless to do anything about it. She would sometimes observe Amy who was pretty and popular and seemed to have the perfect life. The bullying from when she was younger just triggered those hurtful messages that left her removing herself from society to cry to herself in the bathroom. She did not want anyone to have satisfaction of seeing her pain.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Over the years, the once blooming ranch turned sour. The green grass became weeds. The old shed, once beautiful, was now dark with rot, the roof had caved in. Boards were broken with branches from previous storms poking through. Her once delighted father, struggled to hold a job. He slowly became an alcoholic and a disease had spread through him.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">A few weeks after Rose turned 16, the second most devastating thing in her life happened. Her father came home drunk one night, came into her bedroom and raped her. Rose was so shocked and numb, she did not even fight back. In the days that followed, she thought she could ignore the pain of betrayal but the insecurity drove her insane as she tried to pretend it never happened. A</span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"> few weeks passed until Rose couldnt take it anymore. She dropped out of high school and ran away to California.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Over the years, she tried to leave the past wounds behind her. The biggest wounds she had were blows from her very own parents. How could life deal her this hand? Didnt she love me enough to fight? How could she leave me? Why did that happen? Was I not good enough? Was I a horrible person? Did I deserve what happened? Do all men just take what they want?</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She came to grips with that fact that she was broken and unlovable and life would just not deal her a good hand. Others fell in love but she buried that impossibility so deep since it simply wouldnt happen to her.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Thats when she met Caleb. Caleb seemed like he enjoyed life and was so happy. His smile would be so bright, annoyingly bright. "Like, why is this idiot so happy all the time?" Somehow, opposites attracted and they became friends. She would ignore him and do her own thing like she always did but his bubbly spirit would come and swing by, smiling, asking her to come hang out with friends.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">They did become friends. One night, while they talked alone in the car, she felt an anxiousness as she was drawn to him. It was a painful anxiousness because she had become comfortable just not feeling. Just avoiding. Now, this subtle hope that something good could happen to her, scared her. That maybe she could find love, hurt. She didnt know why she did it, but she leaned over and kissed Caleb. Immediately she regretted it. Im sorry, she uttered. But the feeling just rose up. That feeling that you all of a sudden become aware of a risk that you know you will only have once in a lifetime to take.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She climbed over the seats and kissed Caleb again. Harder this time. She felt his warmth, his body and heat and responses. She took off her shirt and something so natural happened. She pushed her breasts into him. She wanted him to enjoy her body. She wanted to nurture him, to take care of him. That night, they did have sex. It spawed a ten year relationship with kids and pta meetings and soccer games and a normal life.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">After two kids and ten years, however, life had taken its toll on the relationship. There was no major catastrophe, no major reason that the beautiful fields of life would slowly deteriorate. They just did until there was no more love in the garden that was no longer tended to.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">One morning, Caleb left. No note, no reason. He just left. The third most devastating event of Roses life. At first, she again asked all the questions. She wanted to run away. But over time, she grew angry. She blamed him for leaving and for the hardships she faced as a single mother.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">For twenty years, she reverted to what she knew. Ignoring the past because it hurt to much. And trying to just survive.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Then, finally, the fourth and final devastation hit. Rose was diagnosed with the same cancer her mother had. She was given six months to live.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">As she lay in her hospital bed, day after day, she was actually thankful that death was arriving. This world was just too painful to deal with. But deep down, she had always known there was a reason she was here, so she never felt like suicide was an option, even though the pain at times was unbearable.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She thought a lot about the major events in her life. She wondered if there was anyway she could have lived better. Done more to deserve more. She thought about how no one has the perfect life. Everyone feels at times like they are unworthy of love, like they are ugly rather than beautiful. That they are powerless against the evil that reigns. That her mother, her father, Caleb, they did not mean to hurt her.</span><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><br style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">For the first time, as ugly as their betrayals, she realized that they did what they did in response to brokeness inside themselves. And she truly believed if they knew, what their actions did to her. How much hurt it caused them, then they wouldnt have done it. She only knew this because her time on her deathbed had caused her to think of some of the devastating blows she had delivered. To close friends she met, to her own children even. And sorrow filled her heart. She used to justify that she was different. Pride snuck into her and she convinced herself that what she had done to hurt others was in no way comparable to what God, life and men had done to her. But as she lay there, too tired to wrestle anymore, she final lay down the burdens she chose to carry for a lifetime.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She had to be honest with herself and she knew she breathed as much evil into the world due to her own hurts. But she was okay with it, because she did the best she could and breathed a lot of good into the world too. She did the best she could and no single person could do more than that. There is no more than the best you could do. And she realized, the true enemy was not God or her father, or Caleb, but the devil himself. For the first time, she accepted all that was and surprisingly wouldnt change a single moment or second of the life she had been given. She felt the beauty of life, and seasons pass through her. With everything stripped away, her soul alone, she felt loved for the first time in her life. And the bright light called as an overwhelming peace overcame her. She close her eyes and passed.</span>scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-63101244127632046472019-09-19T09:25:00.001-07:002019-09-19T09:30:52.784-07:00IntertwinedRob and Marci were meant to be together. They just were. Rob was the star basketball player. He was athletic and smart and funny.<br />
<br />
Marci was shy and reserved. She liked her books and became a safe place for Rob where he could hide away from the troubles of life. A picnic in the park, a ride to the beach.<br />
<br />
For three years, it seemed like the two were inseparable. They partied together, explored together, ate together and travelled together.<br />
<br />
But as life's calling egged them onto a different stage in life, they found themselves trying to become more established.<br />
<br />
It was at that point that Rob and Marci started to drift apart. Their life goals and search for meaning and more, caused them to go their separate ways. Throughout the years, they both thought about each other, but once that season is over, it seems no matter how much something is forced, it is like destiny himself is battling to keep the two away.<br />
<br />
Their life would drift into each others without even knowing it. Rob would be at a coffee shop in Miami, after a cruise docked. Marci would be parked right next door getting her suits pressed for the morning meeting.<br />
<br />
Marci would go visit her parents and pick something up from the grociery store and Rob would be in the next eisle over.<br />
<br />
Yet, the two never ran into each other.<br />
<br />
Both had become widely successful, gotten married, had two kids and gotten divorced.<br />
<br />
It just seemed life would never grant them what they discovered so early on. Too bad, they did not even know what they had.<br />
<br />
Old hurts would cause a little fizzle to die out, when they did reach out to each other. Its the toxicity of leaving once or scarring once the embeds the doubt that can never be overcome. Some people do it. They leave, then come back only to find the same issues and challenges and leave again, deeping the wound. So the two would never be together.<br />
<br />
They ended up reasonably happy and found someone to settle with. Not quite the same passion, desire, connection. But a learned love that was just as deep and companionship for the lives they chose to lead.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright September 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-33200315700483718292019-08-28T21:50:00.000-07:002019-08-28T21:50:43.339-07:00The Yard HouseCold stone steps<br />
<br />
Wind against my heart<br />
<br />
Sand drifting through space<br />
<br />
Slowly painting out history<br />
<br />
The death of loss<br />
<br />
It happened six months ago<br />
<br />
But finally I feel it<br />
<br />
Stay strong for everyone else<br />
<br />
A state of fog, shock and disbelief<br />
<br />
Handle what needs to be done<br />
<br />
Though I was torn inside<br />
<br />
A warm memory sneaks in my mind<br />
<br />
With vivid clarity<br />
<br />
When we first met<br />
<br />
You picked me up in your arms<br />
<br />
Dragons breath sweet milk<br />
<br />
Electric box of loneliness<br />
<br />
The stars seem to understand<br />
<br />
Shed a tear for the river flows<br />
<br />
There comes a breaking point<br />
<br />
Where the soul can never mend<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright August 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-11854824269570332962019-07-19T16:40:00.001-07:002019-07-19T16:40:08.641-07:00Peace In AllRides to save me<br />
<br />
Company to sober me<br />
<br />
Sweaters to warm me<br />
<br />
Massages to relax me<br />
<br />
Smiles to accompany me<br />
<br />
Hamburgers to feed me<br />
<br />
Parties to engage me<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Such good memories<br />
<br />
Such a great gift<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright 2019<br />
<br />
<br />scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-32499147622938637802019-06-28T13:04:00.001-07:002019-06-28T13:04:22.347-07:00An Empty SeatI have an empty seat in front of me,<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A beautiful night in a beautiful life,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But no companion to share it with.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have tried a million times to fill that seat.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But like the empty void in me,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It never gets filled.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Or at least remains that way.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It starts out great.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But it is always the same.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am high off of hope.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But eventually,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I find myself wanting more.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And this is coupled with new responsibilities,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am unable to fulfill.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have no power to make someone else happy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Or fill their void.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Trust me,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have tried.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Desperately tried.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I guess wanting more comes from both sides.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
How can one put in the energy into a new potential?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When the sting of the past remains present.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I guess,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am still not ready.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD</div>
<div>
Copyright June 2019</div>
scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-90410486276466017902019-06-09T07:44:00.000-07:002019-06-09T07:44:13.699-07:00Dark CavernsSleepless nights,<br />
<br />
Am I a good mother?<br />
<br />
Could I have done more?<br />
<br />
What did I do wrong?<br />
<br />
Where did I go wrong?<br />
<br />
How did I miss the signs?<br />
<br />
We went for help,<br />
<br />
But it was too late.<br />
<br />
Thanksgiving without him<br />
<br />
Because he was in a rehabilitation clinic<br />
<br />
Alcohol.<br />
<br />
Then, locked up for nine months.<br />
<br />
I couldn't see my baby boy in that place.<br />
<br />
When he came home,<br />
<br />
I thanked God that he was safe again.<br />
<br />
Guilty, because I had my other kids.<br />
<br />
My other responsibilities.<br />
<br />
The first time he slit his wrists,<br />
<br />
He was only 15 years old.<br />
<br />
Then, he popped pills.<br />
<br />
Hospital visits.<br />
<br />
He finally succeeded.<br />
<br />
And I have failed.<br />
<br />
Now, I wear black.<br />
<br />
The pain in my chest<br />
<br />
Its going to explode.<br />
<br />
I scream and cry and can't escape.<br />
<br />
Each day I get up,<br />
<br />
The world is different<br />
<br />
Depression is real<br />
<br />
And it took my baby boy.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-86511735607156222212019-03-19T09:40:00.000-07:002019-03-19T09:40:08.535-07:00Adventures of Night Diving<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Waves crashing,</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Heightened breathing,</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Salt water gags my throat</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
To fill a bag with treasure</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Carried twenty feet across the rocks</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Pushed this way and that</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Physical exhaustion coupled with an empty bag</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Disappointment and frustration</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
But every dive, a new lesson, a new beauty</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Recovered and shed the extra pounds,</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Rid of expectations and goals</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Focusing on enjoyment and exploration</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Calmness resurges</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Heart beat slows</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
One breath hold lasts a lifetime</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
No urgency to get back to the bottom</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
A sheepshead but no need to shoot it</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Combing the reef for hours</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Then comes the miraculous four and a half inch lobster!</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<br /></div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
<SI> Scott Izu , PhD</div>
<div dir="auto" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: large;">
Copyright March 2019</div>
scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-33579278372796215522019-03-19T09:29:00.000-07:002019-03-19T09:29:46.112-07:003 Months of a New YearI wake up groggy and slow,<br />
<br />
I stare at your hair,<br />
<br />
The empty space that is there,<br />
<br />
Each day that goes by,<br />
<br />
Reminds me of a lifetime ago.<br />
<br />
Have you moved on?<br />
<br />
Its no longer my place to know.<br />
<br />
Where do these questions go?<br />
<br />
The ones that wish to know someone.<br />
<br />
To be close to someone.<br />
<br />
To know their goals and dreams.<br />
<br />
Facebook, Messenger, Instagram<br />
<br />
Friends of friends,<br />
<br />
Each day gets easier<br />
<br />
Yet everyday the same.<br />
<br />
Mornings of clarity,<br />
<br />
Nights of wrestling.<br />
<br />
Living in this bi polar being<br />
<br />
Split by various incongruent desires.<br />
<br />
Figments of my imagination<br />
<br />
And remembering the past<br />
<br />
All the things people are aware of<br />
<br />
Yet never conveyed to me,<br />
<br />
Only subtley enough<br />
<br />
That my intuition<br />
<br />
Was forced to pick it up<br />
<br />
Yet could not define it<br />
<br />
Leaving no room for ignorant bliss<br />
<br />
Makes me doubt<br />
<br />
What is reality?<br />
<br />
What is truth?<br />
<br />
As I take a leap onto not so solid ground<br />
<br />
And my world quakes<br />
<br />
Or is this leaving a fantasy<br />
<br />
And walking on solid ground?<br />
<br />
Insanity.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright March 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-74746329024567087672019-02-06T09:27:00.000-08:002019-02-06T09:27:00.075-08:00The Safety NetAmy. Miss Amy. Single for years. And frustrated. Frustrated with the lack of masculinity in society. What is it that stole masculinity from society? Was it that the industrial age, took fathers out of their homes so young boys no longer had a role model? Was is the women's rights movement, that somehow emasculated men as women sought equality? What happened to that well groomed man in a suit, who carried honor and chivalry on his shoulders?<br />
<br />
Every single man, or boy, as Amy might put it, seemed to be stuck in his teenage years. Either he was a pot head, with all these amazing talents but no motivation to do anything with those talents. Or he was a video game addict. At first, it would be fun with these boys. But deep down, Amy knew, she was just going along with their act, hoping that she could shift them in her direction. Give her something to signal that this was in fact just a phase and that they could switch gears, get more serious about life. If anything, at least give her that deep connection she longed for.<br />
<br />
Amy loved romantic comedies and reading up on relationships. Twenty five soul engaging questions and two hours of answering these questions looking directly into each others eyes. Mystically, this would make two people fall in love.<br />
<br />
Finally, Amy found a man she could dive deep with. This man was no mama's boy. He didn't waste his time in fantasies. On the other hand, he was pursuing real goals in life. His name was Baldwin. And Baldwin treated Amy better than any man she had ever met before. At first, she was skeptical, wondering, "What does this guy really want?" or "Is he for real?".<br />
<br />
Amy would tag along on adventures. Her favorite adventure of all was visiting North Island, Seychelles. They visited for ten days. The food was exquisite. Roasted corn on the cob with Lamb Chops and several sauces to savor each bite. Every meal seemed to be an array of flavors and small samples of a variety of foods. Baldwin threw down the beach blanket like a natural and the arrangements for the picnic by the sunset just seemed so smooth. Amy remembered feeling a little light headed as she giddily swooned Baldwin that evening. She brushed up against him and let her guard completely down.<br />
<br />
As they hit the year mark, the lovey dovey fuzzies seemed to start clearing a path to reality. Baldwin was great, but there was just one problem. He had a string of women in his past. Every once in a while, they would contact him. He would be upfront with Amy about it and at first Amy was okay with it and tried to be understanding. However, as they hit the year mark, it started to really eat away at Amy. Was this how it was going to be? Why didn't he end things? Why was he still in contact?<br />
<br />
Amy knew that she would have to address the subject. When she approached Baldwin about it, she tried to keep her cool, even though the very subject made her boil inside. Baldwin, told her that he was working on getting over them. He said that he didn't want animosity with anyone and wanted to remain approachable, in case they needed answers or they needed answers. He asked Amy if she could help him through this process and Amy was happy to do so.<br />
<br />
The next few months were a little rocky, because for whatever reason that was all Amy could think about. She felt very insecure because she didn't know if she was being too accepting or too demanding. All of her friends agreed with her that there was no reason to be contacting those exes. She just wished, he would finally learn to block those people he wasn't really committed to.<br />
<br />
Finally, one evening, Amy brought up the topic again. Her anger was overwhelming. Having discussed this topic at nauseum, many times over several months, Baldwin asked for some space so he could really think about this issue. He too wanted to move forward in life and potentially in the relationship. He admitted he needed to change something but he didn't know what.<br />
<br />
On the relationship hiatus, Baldwin did some soul searching. He thought about the relationships in his past. It seemed there were two types of girls. The ones he was wildly crazy about, who didn't seem to treat him very well and he seemed to suffocate. Or they were ones that made him feel really good about himself, because they treated him well. That was good, except, he didn't have those powerful emotions near them but rather, was completely comfortable with them.<br />
<br />
He realized, that whenever he took the risk to pursue his dream girl, that dream girl always seemed to break his heart. The way Baldwin responded was to cope with the companionship of the second type of girl. The one who was a great friend. Both Amy and Baldwin knew his reasons for not cutting ties were BS, but finally Baldwin could see it more clearly. Baldwin, having experienced heart ache, kept a safety net. There were two problems with this safety net. The net was an illusion. None of those exes could actually be used to catch Baldwin because they had changed and moved on with their lives. The same problems that caused the break up still existed. And lastly, deep down, Baldwin knew he didn't want to be with any of the women in his net. It was simply a thought he could hold on to when loneliness, feelings of defectiveness or heart ache hit him too hard. The second problem was that this safety net was actually preventing Baldwin from being free and available to attract what he really wanted. It prevented him from working through all of the difficult emotions, processing and resolving them.<br />
<br />
The sad thing was that Baldwin realized Amy was that second type of girl. He could spend his life with her and by happy. But he'd never be in love with her. Deep down, he'd always regret not finding that dream girl. Settling.<br />
<br />
It wasn't long until Baldwin and Amy broke up. And it wasn't long after that that Baldwin finally blocked Amy, due to the realization that if he wasn't going to chase her full heartedly, he had no business wasting any of her time.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright January 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-7499934298922998802019-01-07T23:44:00.001-08:002019-01-07T23:44:11.504-08:00The Love of My LifeEveryone has a dream. My dream was this. That I would marry my high school girlfriend.<br />
<br />
No one impacted me ever again quite like you. Every time I have love and lost, I retrace my steps through my deepest loves.<br />
<br />
They go all the way back to my puppy love. My puppy love was more like a good friend. We never even kissed. When she broke my heart, You were there to pick up the pieces.<br />
<br />
Remember the Sandie Hawkins dance. The brown reversible puffy jackets. Yeah, I kept those for years after, well into my marriage.<br />
<br />
You represent my biggest mistake. A mistake that I never even acknowledged or learned from as you put it, until you decided you never wanted to speak to me again. My life lives the irony of not learning until people finally decide to keep me accountable. Hit that deep abandonment wound. Forgiveness has found a way to enable me somehow. Fear of abandonment. Fear of being alone. Fear of losing my best friend. I couldn't just sit around and let it happen, so I self sabotaged. It goes even deeper than that. Low self esteem and self worth so I can't actually allow myself to have something good. You were right, I didn't learn. Because you forgave me, I learned the wrong lesson. I learned to hide instead of to do what is right. I learned to lie instead of to be honest.<br />
<br />
Your dad was my hero. He is the reason I am who I am today. How could I be paralyzed by getting kicked out of my home and starting from scratch when he had to leave the country. Learning math, though he hated math. Learning computer science, though he hated computer science. Then, he found an apartment for me when I couldn't find one. He paid a few months rent to make sure I had a home. I felt horrible when I wasn't good enough for his little girl.<br />
<br />
Remember watching Jurassic Park. I annoyed you so much that day. I'm sorry.<br />
<br />
Titanic and Elle magazine. You made me secretly love both. Shh. Don't tell my guy friends.<br />
<br />
You were my only visitor in the dreadful place of Utah. I had to hide your clothes and sneak you in and out everywhere. I broke the washing machine. But we made a midnight run for a half gallon of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream and I rode you and Alane on my bike.<br />
<br />
Remember when I came over for a week and hid in your closet? I thought I would be in so much trouble when I finally arrived home and it was devastating to know that no one even noticed I was gone. That was life growing up. I stole $25 from my older brother, went to Target several miles away, bought some toys, got lost on the way home, asking a stranger if they knew where I lived, then arrived home thinking I would get in trouble but no one even noticed. No one ever noticed. You had to be my girlfriend and my mother, making me ground beef, tomatoes and rice or lap sung.<br />
<br />
Remember roller blading on the tennis courts. You'd always pretend to fall and take me down with you. So smooth.<br />
<br />
The car accident, totaling the mustang. Just a couple bruised knees but we were okay. Riding to the beach with the top down, playing children and Depeche Mode. I want somebody to love, love me passionately. Know my inner most thoughts. Know my intimate details. Beautiful words.<br />
<br />
Junior Prom. What a great adventure. Grabbing the cabin near Santa Cruz. I think about it every time I drive up the 1. Was it Bonny Doon road? Getting a flat, almost missing our prom, puncturing my foot and jogging a half mile to get a tractor to pull us out. My top hat, braids and cane. I felt like the million dollar man with you by my side.<br />
<br />
Every lunch break, I'd rest my head on your legs. Almost as if I owned you, I'd make sure everyone knew you were mine. Most importantly, I knew you were mine. Thank you for making me feel secure.<br />
<br />
Precious. That was like our little baby. I remember disciplining her. I always thought that one day, it wouldn't just be a dog. It would be a real baby.<br />
<br />
Remember getting scam letters of becoming a millionaire. We believed it and that life would actually allow us to be together.<br />
<br />
Hanging out near the Physics room, at the movie theaters at the swimming pool in your UC Davis apartment. That's when I first started going places just to feel connected to a lost love. The swimming pool near Lanview. Going up to UC Davis.<br />
<br />
You believed in me. I'm so thankful for that. You already predicted that my goals of going to UC Berkeley and teaching college level math would one day come true.<br />
<br />
You wrote the most amazing letters. My high school yearbook, which I only have today because my mother never let me throw it out. Maybe that's why I couldn't move on, because one is supposed to burn every single thing, to keep them from holding on. The letters we exchanged even when I was married. I loved writing. I lost my passion for many years.<br />
<br />
20 years later and I still sob. Probably, because my MO was to stuff it and keep going. Jump into another relationship quickly. Never actually sit with the physical pain. The pain that seeps into the lower left rib and doesn't allow you to breathe. How can one forget how to breathe?<br />
<br />
I'm glad you had your one child, which you always wanted. Your career which was incredible to see how determined you were to make it. You always were kinda stuck in how things should be done. Remember when you pulled out from school, pissed at the driver who didn't wait for you and then got pissed at the next car who you needed to pull out because they thought you would wait for them.<br />
<br />
Fourth grade. You had the same demeanor about you. I was just this goofy, dorky space cadet, in my own world. Annoying boys.<br />
<br />
Physics class. George Shuttinger. The reason I went into signal processing at UC Berkeley. We would always poke fun at him and he was always so delighted. We studied so hard together and your notes were so well color coordinated with different color pens for different types of information. We had so much fun in that class. All the contests and competitions.<br />
<br />
Lam, Kim, me and you. We were four peas in a pod.<br />
<br />
I wrote my first songs on the piano for you. Midnights of madness, you held me in your arms. All of my passion and all of your charms. Why don't you come back to me, I'll show you the way.<br />
<br />
You didn't even believe what I believed but you supported me in my spiritual walk. Trying to understand morality and where I fit in with it. Teenage years were confusing and religion made it even more confusing. It was then that I formulated my beliefs that still hold true today. Though a whole other element has come alive for me today, to see it as living water.<br />
<br />
Thanks for making me feel like I belonged. Thanks for giving your whole heart.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright January 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-3035609162846538482018-12-01T08:33:00.000-08:002018-12-01T08:33:02.257-08:00The Color of LifeI lay my back on the cold concrete floor. Still in my dark grey business suit, now wrinkled from a night of partying in New York. And I have a decision to make.<br />
<br />
Do I move to New York to run this billion dollar company, a chance of a lifetime or move back to Seattle, trying to make a life with Jenn?<br />
<br />
Jenn has always been a small town girl. Nothing fancy about her. She wasn't like the models that I was used to dating. The models I dated were beautiful but in general superficial and lacked depth. In general, into themselves, oblivious to the suffering around them. And Jenn wasn't like the executives I was used to dating. Needing to control everything. A simple spontaneous run to watch a late night movie always became a power struggle. No way could I get the movie I wanted, the candy I wanted and the popcorn I wanted. Unless, I was willing to give up rights to a future night. Though, I did love the perks of being in a part of a power couple, like exquisite dinners by candlelight overlooking the moonlit sea.<br />
<br />
No, Jenn was nothing like the fast paced world that I was used to. She was loyal to her family, putting them always before herself. It sometimes even made me feel sad, wondering if she would be able to live the life she wanted.<br />
<br />
At ten years old, I had made the decision that I couldn't live trying to please others. It took a battle with suicide to get to that decision, but that is another story. A life should be lived in service of others, because we are built to serve. But a life lived to try to please others or make them happy, ends in exhaustion with no one more pleased or happy than when one set out.<br />
<br />
By far, the nicest thing about being with Jenn was that I could get away from the hustle and bustle. I could put away the mask that the world wanted me to be or needed me to be. And just be myself. She was a great listener and supportive. But in no way, was it a one sided conversation. She had her own dreams and vision, her own light. And I loved getting a glimpse.<br />
<br />
We used to cross the street to the Elementary School near her house, gaze up at the stars and just discuss life. I loved that. Sometimes, we were so cold, but neither of us wanted to be the one to say it first, because it would become a catalyst towards going home and ending the night.<br />
<br />
Everyone in the world sees what they want to see. And somehow, I am none of what they see. Jenn saw me and I saw her.<br />
<br />
This opportunity in front of me is the chance of a lifetime. Sometimes I feel this is going to be the biggest decision of my life and sometimes I feel that it shouldn't matter what I choose because if Jenn and I were supposed to be together, we would end up together. She left me with this decision, because she said she could never leave her family. The business would never survive without her.<br />
<br />
And how do I give up what I have been working the last fifteen years toward. It has been a crazy, run, but maybe it is time to leave it all behind.<br />
<br />
I was the hot shot, new kid on the block. Everything I touched, seemed to turn to gold. I graduated top in my class from Harvard business school and made so many connections during school, that there was no way I could possibly fail. I found myself in a small manufacturing firm, that specialized in integrated circuits. Specifications were engineered here in the States, but most of the parts were shipped directly from Taiwan, where they could be made cheaply. Then, they were sold and shipped out around the globe.<br />
<br />
Maybe they chose me because I was willing to do the work or maybe it was because I was young, energetic and naive. I would fly back and forth internationally, every other month to broker deals with over seas companies.<br />
<br />
We would be wined and dined, because we represented America, the land of streets paved with gold. That is where my morality first took a nose dive. After hour parties with escorts had killed my innocence. I did not want to turn down generous gifts or hospitality or possibly impact a deal that could make or break our company. So I just went with the flow. I never complained, never worried too much about the promotions and firing that happened all around me. I just buckled down and did my work.<br />
<br />
I almost lost my career over one particular multi million dollar deal. The biggest order for the company at the time. When the shipment arrived to the destination, some of the parts had defects. The receiving company cancelled the entire order. We promised to give them a discount, send someone out to handle the return and redeliver within two weeks. We could not do it faster because this was one of the largest orders we had ever deliver, possibly the reason for the defects. The receiving company declined and we received no money for the deal. This was devastating to our small company because we spent so much of our resources just to manufacture a single order.<br />
<br />
I remember the dread of walking into the meeting room a few days later. Outside, the day looked beautiful. One of the best office views in New York. The sun shone bright on the spotless glass windows. But inside, was gloom. Somber. I was the last person to enter the room. Five suits with eyes on every move I made. I went on to propose a plan to recapture the revenue. The plan included making changes the company had never considered before.<br />
<br />
We would use an external company to source the funds and serve as an money broker. They would insure the deals for a percentage of the deal and provide immediate payment, which would help us for the small percentage of deals that went unpaid each year. They would also handle collections at a fraction of the what it cost us internally. We would never ship such a large order any more. For larger orders, we would break them down into smaller shipments and ship as soon as manufacturing completed. This would allow faster delivery instead of having part of the shipment sit around for weeks until the entire order completed. Lastly, we would personally fly out someone from the company to deliver our product on critical deals. My proposal also included a plan to save the company financially, highlighting market trends and where we could focus our energy for growth.<br />
<br />
Rather than get fired, my proposal was accepted. I poured all my energy into saving the company. Now, only ten years later, we supply a chip that is in nearly every phone across America. And they asked me to run the company.<br />
<br />
I am not sure what to do. Everything has always come easy to me in terms of clarity in my life's direction. But for the first time in my life, I simply don't know what to do. I guess I'll start by getting up, moving one foot in front of the other and grabbing some coffee.<br />
<br />
Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright December 2018scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-62396956498519097562018-11-28T20:49:00.002-08:002018-11-28T20:49:55.661-08:00SuicideSmile on the outside,<br />
<br />
Hurtin' on the inside.<br />
<br />
Just wake up one day more,<br />
<br />
Maybe you'll feel better<br />
<br />
You can always do it tomorrow<br />
<br />
A ten year old kid,<br />
<br />
Wandering the streets<br />
<br />
Cause he can't live up to his parent's expectations.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'll get lucky and have a car hit me to end it all<br />
<br />
Cryin at the kitchen table as the father yells<br />
<br />
Like a ghost to the family.<br />
<br />
One feels like committing suicide when one only lives trying to please others<br />
<br />
Never good enough<br />
<br />
Never belonging<br />
<br />
Gone in spirit already,<br />
<br />
The physical alignment is not much more loss.<br />
<br />
Each day a dread<br />
<br />
Shouldn't I be more thankful for what I have?<br />
<br />
Guilty, the feelings get stuffed back down<br />
<br />
Only to fester and mold underneath the surface.<br />
<br />
You, paper, are my outlet.<br />
<br />
You, counselor, help me find my voice.<br />
<br />
A soul ignored and unheard shall beg to die<br />
<br />
Help me find my voice.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright Nov 2019scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-31390945154156057402018-11-11T23:59:00.001-08:002018-11-11T23:59:36.799-08:00The VoidI feel a void,<br />
<br />
Deep within my soul,<br />
<br />
A void that only you can fill.<br />
<br />
But the depths of the void<br />
<br />
Are like a never ending cave<br />
<br />
So it is a lie to say its completely filled<br />
<br />
More like obscured.<br />
<br />
Without you I must live with myself<br />
<br />
So much pain and sorrow<br />
<br />
A million demons torment me<br />
<br />
For they find comfort in the empty space<br />
<br />
Should I put the weight of my void on you?<br />
<br />
No, only God can handle this.<br />
<br />
It is too much to place on any person,<br />
<br />
Even a partner.<br />
<br />
The demon laughs and taunts,<br />
<br />
What is wrong with you?<br />
<br />
Frustration cannot even find its way out through tears.<br />
<br />
A voice smothered with a thousand hands.<br />
<br />
No novacaine, sex, drugs nor alcohol tonight<br />
<br />
Just the feeling that may exhaust me to sleep.<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright 1111scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-19734307244575051682018-08-24T23:36:00.003-07:002018-08-24T23:36:28.596-07:00Abandoned FriendshipsThey leave a void in your heart<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Never knowing if they will return</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Leaving you wondering</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Did I do something wrong?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Could I have done more?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Desperation fills the mind</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Wanting to fight what must be forcibly accepted</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Self criticism speaks loud in leiu of the silent response</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Chaos circles the mind, a surreal sort of nature</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Damaged relationships or those that have been lost</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Good memories are all that can be remembered, thought plenty of fights ensued</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Shall I accept my seasons of friendship?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Trying to recall the openness of the old soul which birthed the friendship to blossom</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Hoping that reconciliation occurs in this life or the next</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Subtle rejection and frustration of unbalanced feelings which lack their returned counterparts</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I feel abandoned, yet again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Scott Izu</div>
<div>
Copyright August 2018</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-26242498573022229532018-02-07T18:25:00.000-08:002018-02-07T18:25:03.428-08:00All's Fair In Love And WarCause either I'll love you<br />
<br />
Or you'll love me<br />
<br />
No way that both can be<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
And when my heart is on the line<br />
<br />
Broken into a thousand pieces<br />
<br />
Every time<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
My heart first broken,<br />
<br />
Right before I was high school bound<br />
<br />
Look for safety where it can be found<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Similar to how a big bully<br />
<br />
Taught me to treat others with kindness<br />
<br />
Rather than have emotions rule me<br />
<br />
....<br />
<br />
So where is safety found?<br />
<br />
The person there to mend my heart<br />
<br />
Treated nicely, thats just the start<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Don't get distracted<br />
<br />
By looks and charisma<br />
<br />
To soon retracted<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Don't get so arrogant<br />
<br />
Looking for the perfect ten<br />
<br />
Ignored as it has always been<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Avoidance sparks my anxiety,<br />
<br />
And the harder I love,<br />
<br />
The more you flee<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
To remember what I knew at such a young age<br />
<br />
It is like I need a rebreak<br />
<br />
Remember those for granted, I take<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Death to all those lies<br />
<br />
Let me see what is before me<br />
<br />
Please open my eyes.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright February 2018scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-11554464058457194482018-01-07T18:43:00.001-08:002018-01-07T18:43:17.611-08:00GoodbyeI have been here before,<br />
<br />
All too clear and in many forms.<br />
<br />
Searching for love just for me<br />
<br />
Balancing that with what you need.<br />
<br />
How can I get too close to you<br />
<br />
When I know me could tarnish you<br />
<br />
Can I forgive myself and let the past go?<br />
<br />
Or is unhealthy all I'll ever know?<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
You say you are okay wanting one thing<br />
<br />
But your real desires have a different ring<br />
<br />
This battle, this war zone of love<br />
<br />
Heart ache, bloodshed, can one rise above?<br />
<br />
A premature launch to explore unchartered water<br />
<br />
Go back to safety, don't teeter totter.<br />
<br />
Oh how the instants of time do they fly.<br />
<br />
Subtely do we get so good at goodbye.<!--Clip_XXXX_180107_184144_394--><br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright January 2018scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-59241906835700441412018-01-03T22:51:00.000-08:002018-01-03T22:51:46.780-08:00GMASome will stop and wonder,<br />
How you could be so loved,<br />
But all the while I knew,<br />
You were gifted from above.<br />
...<br />
Some will try to recreate,<br />
But little do they know,<br />
God had promised His patience<br />
Evidenced in His rainbow.<br />
...<br />
If you could only learn to love,<br />
Thats all you gotta do.<br />
Its the message that I hear,<br />
But ever present inside you.<br />
...<br />
Years had passed<br />
Such exercised restraint.<br />
Discriminated, widowed and even starved.<br />
But never a complaint.<br />
...<br />
When all had turned away,<br />
For they dared not even look.<br />
You said let the little children come.<br />
And gave each one a bright new book.<br />
...<br />
Yahtzee queen,<br />
3 of a kind.<br />
A love for games,<br />
A joyous find.<br />
...<br />
Oh how sweet the tangerine.<br />
But more the lemon prepped with care.<br />
Oh how sweet a perfect life<br />
But more the life you chose to bear.<br />
...<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright 2017<br />
<br />scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-59094481721852222442017-12-08T19:51:00.001-08:002018-01-03T16:56:45.355-08:00UnseenWho is the one who is the greatest?
<br>
Is it the one who showers Facebook with posts of me, me, me?
<br>
It is only until I see you, that I realize I am too much me.
<br>
...
<br>
In passing, as I pick up my child from school,
<br>
I see you waiting in the car, picking up your grand kids.
<br>
Day after day,
<br>
You do this...
<br>
When a child goes to jail,
<br>
You pick up the pieces...
<br>
You take care of both husband and kids,
<br>
Never complaining...
<br>
Some may even take advantage of you.
<br>
But you continue.
<br>
And rather than teach the hard lessons of life,
<br>
You choose to simply remain present.
<br>
...
<br>
When you started to suffer,
<br>
I cried so much because I just didn't understand why someone so good needed to suffer.
<br>
I feel like if anyone deserved to suffer,
<br>
It should be me and not you.
<br>
...
<br>
Thank you for baby sitting my kids when we needed an extra hand.
<br>
Thank you for never judging when Hell broke loose in our household.
<br>
...
<br>
Tonight I drink alone.
<br>
A rare occasion.
<br>
Not alone, but with you and my Father.
<br>
You did everything you could during your time here.
<br>
May I honor you by trying to do everything I can during my stay.
<br>
May you rest in peace, loved one.
<br>
...
<br>
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD
<br>
Copyright December 2017scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-38187865613436952082017-09-10T12:20:00.002-07:002017-09-10T12:20:58.878-07:00Cleansed by GraceGrace in a cup,<br />
<br />
Washing Macines.<br />
<br />
Feeling warm rays of sunlight on the beach with arms spread wide.<br />
<br />
Hot showers.<br />
<br />
Laying in the hospital bed letting someone nurse you back to health.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright September 2017scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-11165385540612118642017-09-10T12:16:00.000-07:002017-09-10T12:16:11.734-07:00Broken BonesYou won the fight,<br />
<br />
I was wrong and you were right.<br />
<br />
I lay here exhausted<br />
<br />
From the turmoil.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Something has died within me,<br />
<br />
A part of my spirit broken.<br />
<br />
I must place my spiritual bones<br />
<br />
Into a cast so they can heal.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Six months to set things straight,<br />
<br />
Six months without strain,<br />
<br />
No strenous activity<br />
<br />
And living with daily impairment.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Truly, the ones we love the most will always hurt us the most.<br />
<br />
The depth of the hurt will always mirror the depth of the trust and intimacy shared.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright Septembet 2017scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-49802597209552445512017-05-14T19:16:00.000-07:002017-05-14T19:16:27.661-07:00Mother's LoveEveryone is <b>different</b>,<br />
<br />Everyone loves in their own way,<br />
<br />
And the way they love,<br />
<br />
If you pay attention,<br />
<br />
Shows how they need to be loved.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
My mother taught me how to <b>read</b>,<br />
<br />
Before I could even speak.<br />
<br />
She taught me <b>responsibility</b>,<br />
<br />
Before I could even reach the ping pong table,<br />
<br />
Folding clothes and working other chores.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
When I felt sick,<br />
<br />
I was allowed to <b>rest</b>,<br />
<br />
Drinking orange juice and flat 7up,<br />
<br />
I could stay home from school,<br />
<br />
Any day I didn't feel up to the task.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Her lessons still stick with me today.<br />
<br />
I can face the hatred of the world,<br />
<br />
Because she taught me <b>independence</b>.<br />
<br />
And <b>confidence </b>to believe in myself,<br />
<br />
Even when it meant standing <b>alone</b>.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
She taught me that <b>education</b><br />
<br />
And focus on one's own <b>growth</b><br />
<br />
Was the only way to overcome socio economic constraints<br />
<br />
For the greatest challenge,<br />
<br />
Is to <b>change </b>oneself.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright May 2017scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4575102494949444397.post-87298271276725336872016-12-05T08:51:00.004-08:002016-12-05T08:51:50.054-08:00PreciousLove is so precious,<br />
<br />
But like gold in a gold rush,<br />
<br />
Only few find it.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD<br />
Copyright December 2016scottizuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10418376745836514559noreply@blogger.com0