So I think it is advantageous to start my relationship with you the reader to know.. my name.
My name is James Dillon Broxson and I’ve been told that was my signifier all my life.
For some reason I answer to it so I guess it has some sort of relevance to me.
Issues of politics seem to take up everyone’s general everyday discourse these days and I am often just as guilty but many are also guilty of doing nothing to better the situation. They are political in word but not in deed. It is important you know I don’t wish for people to be a-political. I just want them to be political in word and in deed.
From the day I was born I was a protest. I had sleep disorders that made me sleepy when everyone was waky and waky when everyone was sleepy. I wasn’t just beating to my own drum all “Dilly-Nilly” but rather it was foisted on me by that miracle called birth.
I understood things differently, I acted differently I believed differently. I was born my own political party.
I was like a missionary to all but all saw it their mission to be missionaries to me…
but alas I was hard hearted and couldn’t swallow the pill. Perhaps my natural immunities made medicine my mutinies!
It’s hard to swallow a pill when you are born with the natural tendency to believe you are a doctor.
It might take you years to hear the other and selective hearing doesn’t make that much better.
To be normal was oft an envy; though in these years, in my thirties, Iv’e began to ‘trust’ the directions my neuro-divergences often suggest as plans of action. To survive in this world whilst owning childlike naivety and awe is dangerous unless you learn to be strong ‘trusting your guns’.
I decided to start blogging again and this time to try to make a run of it as the beginnings of my online business, as a way for you the reader to follow the trains of thought I’m conducting and perhaps hop on and enjoy the ride and for me to etch out a living doing what I always wanted to do ..being a writer.
My mind is so full that it is exhausting at times but my hidden rigidities of thought are so all encompassing that good habits are hard to inculcate without a sense of deep meaning and ‘ritual’.
I have had a strange gift in my life of full dedication to very particular seemingly minuscule ‘things’ or some pet social goal to help better mankind. The particularity is important as the meaning is necessary and the ritual is soothing.
When Adam and Eve were put in the Garden of Eden the work of tending it was meant to be a pleasure and not a chore.
That is a good exemplification of how my mind works. I have very important work to do but it has to be that work ‘I am meant to do.’
In grade school my teachers would often say to my mother. “If Dillon likes something he will be better at it than anything else. If he doesn’t like it he is going to have many challenges.”
My life I have struggled with focus, with drive, with the exhaustion of years upon years of un-diagnosed sleep disorders as well as various maladies of mental and emotional exhaustion but still I remember being told I was brilliant by teachers in school, winning spelling bees, being very proficient in English and writing as well as regularly confusing adults by how astute, well read and eruditely questioning I was.
High functionality made my liabilities seem faked and that I was playing the victim even if that was furthest from the truth.
High abilities masked my high challenges.
The desire to emulate some of the giftings of the professionally extroverted of the world along with the love for performance, acting and creativity gave a certain degree of childlike normalcy to me whereby I could mask the challenges of me attempting to catch up with the supposed ‘dance of reality’ and the supposed ‘rules of engagement’.
I was an Android Phone in an Iphone world and I did not readily have the software to interpret ‘their’ programs.
A fish out of water.
A star without sky.
Man lone in the woods. That was this guy.
I won’t immediately tell you what this means to me or what I think it means but I will use it as an opportunity to encourage.
I still don’t really know what I am doing.
Even my faith doesn’t necessarily change that… and I think thats ok!
I still don’t really know what I’m doing… I’m learning everyday.
I still don’t really know what I’m trying to do… but I’m still trying to too!
I still don’t really know what I’m doing… and so can you!
Musings of a Picture Frame Conversationalist. 