Reflections on Life and Giving - St. Baldrick's

By: Gus Victoria

Life is beautiful. It is worth living. It is worth fighting for. Our struggles vary from person to person and from day to day. No one’s obstacles to health and happiness are to be discarded offhand, but sometimes we lose focus in our everyday lives as to what is truly important. Hitting a string of red lights and almost being late for work, though annoying, cannot compare to the moment when you are told you or a loved one has cancer.

Whoa, that escalated quickly! Gus, we know the differences between daily annoyances and life changing challenges!

Do we though? How deeply ingrained is this knowledge? How many times a day do we get angry that so many of our resources are frivolously spent on things meant for ease, leisure, or worse, for creative destruction?!

I am not blameless in this twisted perspective. We are not inherently bad more than we are inherently good. We have will and a heart and mind to help us exert that will. Our tangible resources may be limited, but love never is nor is the hope that springs eternal from it. As the soapbox is brought forward I sidestep it and digress to share with you something that helped me last year get closer to a balance. I of course make this disclaimer that though it changed my perspective and helped me see beyond myself it also showed me how far I am from reaching that potential for action through affection. It was as if last year a door was opened into a far larger room I had never entered cluttered about with so much terrible refuse, but knowing as I stared at the heaps of dangerous things that small as I may be, alone as I may be I had the power to start to clear up a tiny fraction of it. The only thing limiting me then is what limits me still, the thought, simple, deceptive and dangerous; “what does it matter. I’m just one person. What can I possibly do to change things.”

Last year I was invited to join an event to help raise funds for a charity to benefit children’s cancer research. Having decided earlier in the year that I would become more involved with such groups it was the perfect opportunity to make good on that inner promise.  And thus began my relationship with St. Baldrick’s.

St. Baldrick’s is an organization that raises funds throughout the year to benefit children’s cancer research.  One notable way that they do this is through events such as the one I joined where men and women can volunteer to have their heads shaved. This is to show those brave young souls battling cancer that bald is beautiful, that bald is a sign of strength and not an ugly thing. In that solidarity they give me more than I could possibly give them back, but that is where we go back to that big room and we pick up bit by bit, doing what we can. We ask them to fight and we must not be awed by their courage and determination into stunned inaction, but let that be what drives us to do more. 

A funny mid-shave picture from last year's event. 

The work we can do to help need not be Herculean to begin. A simple donation here and there can help. Joining an event and spreading the word can help. Words and prayers always are welcome. The work placed before us in this struggle to control and eradicate children’s cancer is noble but enormous and not one of us can do it alone. Together we must work toward this ultimate goal doing what we can and not allowing ourselves to give in to the discouraging thought that what we do is not enough and therefore should not be done. You have a spare dollar? Donate it. You have 5? Put them to work. You have a few minutes? Spread the word. You have an evening open? Join and attend an event. I promise you that at the end of the day you will feel better, more connected, and with a new perspective that I hope instills in you a hunger to do even more; never outside your capabilities, but always stretching them further than you thought possible. These children do that every day, why can’t we on occasion as well?

Here are some links related to this years event:

The event this year is March 14! So let's raise as much as we can between now and then. I will be shaving my head!

Click here to donate through my page on St. Baldrick's site

This is the general event page. You can donate here as well!

And this video from St. Baldricks:

In Heaven They Serve Cider

By: Gus Victoria

In Heaven they serve cider.

Apple, pear or any kind of berry,

From a frosted chalice the angels drink,

Never emptying,

Never warm,

Testament of God’s infinite love,

Cider is Ambrosia’s better

And the envy of Hell.

Love Sieved

By: Gus Victoria

I mourn the girl you were,

Innocence hidden

Behind a devil’s grin

Not your own,

I mourn the man you knew

Who loved the girl you were,

His death you signed

In your maddened leave,

Taking sun and soil

From his soul

That nothing could grow

Where once was lush

With love and affection,

Eternity was never shorter

Than from your lips it came

For it meant less

Than a shadow’s promise

In Dawn’s embrace,

I gave my love to a

Daughter of Danaus.

Going on Account - A Pirate's Life For Me

By: Gus Victoria

He worked long hours

In the master’s house

That for long stood on the hill

Overlooking a kingdom of sorts,

Envy of many,

For the position he carried.

He buttled long and hard

And more than one maid

Did he fraternize;

A little virtue,

A little vice,

Ghosts friendly and nice,

Still he grew restless,

The sea called,

In her deep melody

She called;

A siren’s song.

He answered and left.

That spooky house

On that hill he left,

Not far was the journey,

That found him on the shore

Of the waters

That bore that Wicked Wench,

Her captain wailed as the devil’s own minion,

To go on account;

To join or regret.

The greens of the livery he traded,

For colorful rags

And the pirate’s life.

To pillage and plunder

The lands spotted atop the crow’s nest,

A black flag now announced

The coming of a pirate;

Once servant of an estate,

Now master of the sea.

Crimson Fields Future Yields

By: Gus Victoria

It’s a long, long way from Tipperary,

The mademoiselle from Armentiers

Has long been silent,

No broken French

Spoken through halting English

In nearly a century,

Quiet the fields have been

Overgrown with grass and flowers,

Life green and colorful

Where once was dark and dead,

No vaporous clouds stalk nearby

And Johnny has long since marched home,

Still we remember

The sacrifices made

As in blood was paid

The balance of the struggle.

Not for ideals,

But to found upon crimson fields

A future of potential

Nearly destroyed by industrialized death. 

Spooky House

By: Gus Victoria

Long ago high on a hill

Your foundation was laid,

First among many

You stand proud still,

Home to spirits

Characters and more,

Nestled in history,

Never forgotten,

Nostalgic before your time,

Spooky you are

Keeping true terror at bay,

As your ghosts visit

Wander, laugh and play

You make friends with strangers,

After just a little while,

It never takes long,

Tears you turn to a smile,

You, we do not fear,

In our hearts you are forever near,

A wonderful house

A Spooky House,

On a hill,

In our memories always

Brighter, higher still.

The Libertine

By: Gus Victoria

Freedom of thought and action

Confers upon the soul

A certain sublime honesty

That tests virtue

As it renders it meaningless,

That tastes sin

As it rejects guilt,

Nothing touches the Libertine

In the search of the fruits;

That of knowledge he knows

And of pleasure he seeks,

There is no wall he cannot break,

No mountain he cannot scale,

No depth too far

He cannot search.

Rejected by all others;

The Libertine.

Law unto himself;

The Libertine.

Chaos, Order, Good and Evil

Are broken fetters

Shattered by

The Libertine.