Misunderstood

The misunderstanding of ones dreams can lead to nightmares for those left in confusion. One must understand that they can not force someone to go the route they believe one should partake in, for everyone's destiny is separate from their own. A hard concept for such a young mind to grasp. Fear blinded my eyes from seeing the truth. A fear that has stuck with me for years because of my lack of understanding. I have failed to accept responsibility for my own actions, for my association with excuses yielded the correction of such. All because I misunderstood your purpose in my life.

Without you, the necessary ingredients that makes a man would not be prevalent in my life today. Every forest depends on a fallen tree. To the innocent bystander, the fallen tree has failed, for it could not withstand the same conditions as that of the rest of the trees. Yet, it is still of natural occurrence for every tree to fall, die, after living such a long fulfilled life. Many things may be eating away at the tree on the inside, but it displays a warrior mentality to never give up no matter what adversity it may face. Even when it falls it still serves its purpose of being a benefactor to the environment. Every strong tree must fall, and adapt to its environment. How the environment adapts to the tree depends on its success. Amazing how one simple change has a spiral effect that ripples down the roots, which sends shockwaves in each and every direction touching all in the surrounding area so that they too may do the same. Now once fallen, either due to weather or simply natural causes, the tree, to some, may be seen as finally 'falling' into its true purpose. Even in its dying state the tree not only provides much needed minerals and nutrients to the soil, which subsequently gives life to many micro-organisms, but also helps boost the ecosystem in the process. Some may find the fall detrimental because of how it may direct or indirectly effect the lives of those that inhabited the tree pre-fall. Evolution may take its course, but adaptation comes in swiftly to save the day. It is because of adaptation that every organism possible found on the forest bed finds the obscurity to be beneficial in some way. Of course it is up to them of how they choose to adapt in a positive manner. From providing a smorgasbord of various insects for a variety of birds and animals, to providing protection to anyone needing shelter from their respective predators lingering about the forest. A fallen tree should not be moved, only should it serve its purpose as being the strength for the forest. What fallen trees are to the forest, so it is true for my father to his son.

Often seen as a tree that has fallen and given up, over the years I have grown to see that of the contrary. Instead of seeing the fallen tree as beneficial, I ventured off deep into the forest in search of the right essentials that could help fuel my, thought, damaged life. Was unaware that everything that was needed was right in front of me; the fallen tree. Now that I have returned to the tree that was in correlation with being detrimental, it is made known of the true purpose. Exuberating confidence. Courage. A will to never give up. To always strive for excellence in all that is achievable. To always show respect, even when it is not given. An artistic 'drawist' mindset. To keep focus on God. The list goes on of all the necessary 'minerals and nutrients' that was needed to make it as a man in the forest that is my life. You were only living out your purpose, and for that I thank you. My apologies, for it took twenty-four years for me to realize the need of a fallen tree in my life; an often misunderstood necessity.
I love you Dad.

My Inner Lion-ness

Scene: Burning reddish-orange with the tint of a dark purple lining the horizon overcast the meadow lands. Dusk slowly sets in. A baby cub is seen sneaking away from the pride. His father, the King of the pride, will not be able to protect his son for he has already left to go hunting. A pack of hyenas pick up the scent of the nearby young cub as he wonders further away. The hyenas slowly inch closer to their late night snack. The scene fades to black with only the laughter of the hyenas being heard. The scene fades back in with the visual of the cub being carried off. The cub’s mother, the lioness, gently sets the cub down back with the pride. The overprotective lioness had come to the rescue.

When we hear of a lion, first thing we usually only think of are the courageous, heroic, and leadership roles of the biggest mane male lion. He is the King of the jungle, with a roar that seems to be heard half way around the world. He defends his territory, fighting all off that dares to challenge his authority. Indeed, he is all of these things, yet he can not be ever where at once; as seen in the scene above. Once the female lion, the lioness, conceives her children, she becomes inseparable with them, mothering them still into their adult years. The lioness is very overprotective of her young. If she does not feel that her cub is safe, often it is seen that she will venture off either secluded to raise on her own, or to another pride. The caring heart of the lioness does not go unnoticed, for she not only cares and nurses her own, but also lends a helping hand to other cubs within the same pride; often of relation. Another characteristic to take notice is the playful attitude that is exhibited with her offspring even in the later years. The male lion does not have much interaction with the young cubs contrary to the popular kid’s movie, The Lion King. Although the lion showcases power and strength, it is not the best of parent. The lioness takes on that role.

Many times when telling my story I often tend to focus on one side of my life that allows me to revisit the dark sides, and show how I was able to overcome those struggles by bringing them to light. Those dark times more than often reflect on the influence that my father had on me, and how it shaped me into who I am today. I have to apologize for anyone that has read my work knowing it consists solely of that. I have led my readers to believe that there was no one that had a positive influence on my life. Indeed, I was miraculously able to turn the negative memories into positive, but what about those already positive? To keep a battery charged and working, it must have positive and negative electrons and neutrons fueling it. Those positive electrons that keep me going, and have gotten me through many situations are fueled by non other than Karen Lynn Gibson, my mother. Like the lioness, my mother was always there to pull me away from my ongoing situation and keep me safe. It was not until a few years into my adult life that I realized the impact my mother had on the making of what I have become currently. Without her, I can not say with a straight face that I would have been ok getting through my struggles. Yes, I can associate mistakes she made with events that have occurred throughout the years, but of those I can not assign the blame to her. A long struggle for happiness was not of her concern, yet was her hard fighting struggle to ensure that her children had what they needed in life rather than wanted that got her through it all. The lioness; the role my mother would take.

The continuous strides my mother made were not seen as a struggle in my eyes at a young age, yet it was evident. We did not have much, but we had enough to get by; she made sure of that. A beautician at heart who picked up odd jobs that did not fit her demeanor was only so she could help make ends meet within the household. Many times I remember the tireless nights that were spent in the dim lit room, as her shoulders hung over the infamous sewing machine bringing to life what would later become an outfit of some sorts for my sisters; all three. A woman who set aside her dreams and aspirations so that her children may have a chance at something she was not so privileged to partake in. The cub slowly becomes a lion only by the nurturing love, and life lessons provided by his mother. From the countless nights that she read the already memorized books to me, to the late night pillow fights that would routinely start as she taught me how to properly make her bed. From the relentless faith she had in God as she taught our weekly bible study to ensure it would grow in us later on, to the efforts she made to give my sister and I the best education possible by sacrificing all she had just to send us to a Christian private school. Her lioness tendencies did not stop there, for even years after all her children left her sight she still has always been there whether it had been financially, or simply just motivation words to help us along the way. The lioness, the Queen of the pride; my mother. It is the lioness that often breaks away from the pride to raise her young on her own. It is the lioness that risks her life on a daily as she hunts so that she may provide food for her family. The caring heart of the lioness is exactly what God has instilled in me; derived from my mother. Much respect is given to a woman that readjusted to put her life on hold so that years later her offspring would see her struggle and understand how she, through all of her trials and tribulations, was undoubtedly able to succeed as a mother. The lioness, a role my mother played very well.   

Spoken Word- Morning After

Late Night Snack

This will be a bunch of randomness that will help me later on so bare with me. I feel it can be of some importance. My late night snack for tonight. As I spend some much needed quality time with my niece Calysa, an astonishing idea pops in the relm of delusional images floating in my mind fighting to gain understanding. Ever since birth I have always been there for her, despite the restless efforts of her good haired, smooth talking father. I promised myself that I would be sure that she becomes better than me. At the time of her birth I was in the young stages of my metamorphasis, so the impact I had on her was like the impact my parents had on me, minus the belt. I was eager to teach, teach someone what I have gained in my long late night sessions of meditation. Alas, God sent me something, someone that I could use as an example later that shows off the positive effect that someone can  have on a childs life. This gift came as a blessing to not only my sister, but me as well. A vow was made early on that I would see that the first offspring of a Gibson would have it better than I had; even if it was not of my own.

At a young age I was forced into questioning why things were because of the often confusion that remained presently in our household. Excellance was all we knew. Even though it was frequently seen by my father and later adapted into my own lifestyle, it was the want of reading to gain more that developed from the late night reading sessions that was held with my mother. Indeed, it was my father who pointed me in the direction that my curiousity was already wandering, but it was the effort my mother kept to always read me something that later fueled me. This lasted until the itch for reading on my own arrived. What I am getting at is that because of the continuous efforts sought out by my parents, I was able to develop a feeling to put forth an effort to achieve a higher literacy. Flash to present day. Now nine years later from my nieces birth, the hard efforts I bestowed are now prevalent. She is the top of her class, and has been since stepping foot into the then Youngstown school system, now Columbus. It is not all off my doing, but I do believe some credit should be given. What was done on my parents, sisters, and my behalf is what is scarcely seen in homes across the nation today,and that is efforts pushed towards excellance. It sounds so easy, and that is because it is. It is seen all through time from the pervious minded slaves that with the determination in their heart sought out literacy, to the abolishioners that escaped fighting hard for equality. Once educated it was of known ritual for the same information to be passed on to the less fortunate, he then telling another and so on. There already was a bar set for excellence; an already set criteria to breed it. To bad you had to lack pigmentation in order to receive such right to the heirachy of the almighty excellence throne.

Playing up late with my neice helped me realize an ongoing problem that we, collectively, fail to take notice as a nation. Education should be the key. The problem is that they are too many people that do not see the momentous strides made by African-Americans as being of  some importance to the American race. They exclude the efforts, and success that was accomplished by many of African-American decent. Because my parents passed on the philosophy of education to my siblings and I, I was able to kick in the necessary gears needed to ensure my success later in life. What bothers me is even at my current grade level that I was in, I still felt this same way. That our school systems were holding back from teaching us more, and more of what we actually needed to know. My niece is very much so used in many of my observations. Sort of like my life long project. The name Michael does seem fit. But back to the topic at hand. For the lack of information that I was receiving in school, I sought out to learn more. This is a drive that is often seen in the lives of children that, A) know of their past and the efforts taken to reach such points, or B) experienced some sort of push towards higher learning in the home. My niece allowed me to see something so simple, so clear, yet blinding like a ray of light catching the retina. It is time we take it back a few decades. Back to when literacy was of the upmost importance in this nation. White kids wanted to strive to maintain their dominance over blacks, and Black kids wanted to strive to just be considered in the conversation of coming close to being white; the then thought supreme race. The conscientious efforts to achieve excellence was on both mindsets even then, yet they allowed race to keep them devided, and devided on the power they could have achieved together. Although this has gotten me off on a tagent or two, a serious point is being made. Our country is the way it is because of the lack of responsiblity we choose not to take for our own faults. Our nation will continue to fail to improve unless some sort of strenuous action is strongly considered and sought out. Before I jump back on my point, it bothers me that our school systems today lack proper information on the history of African-Americans. The programs, the strides, the sweat, the tears, the long fought journey towards excellence that accrued daily in the communities of Blacks, should in some way be of some importance, and should show of some value to the American people. If one race, if one living organism, was able to overcome such a devastating time period of being suppressed, then surely it should be used as the blueprint to overcome any situation. Is it not taught by coaches around the globe of someone that was able to do it better before them the main thesis of making their athletes better? Does a long jumper not model his or her jumping style after greats such as Bob Beamon and Carl Lewis? Now, back onto that. My drive and determination to educate myself came from the narritves that I would so interestingly read, that told of situations I could relate to. Those I could not understand helped provide wisdom to those I did. Teach all races about African-Americans, and I can guarantee excellence will be the focal point of discussion.

In teaching my niece it also allowed me to get a first person glance at how a living organism evolves as a result of the direct effects placed upon it by its environment. Take for instance the lessons learned by a dog; not associating humans as dogs, but the characteristics of adaption to ones environment. You get the dog as a pup, training it not to urinate in the house. With many efforts, the pup still persists to go wherever he so chooses. Reading of a known method proved to work, you give the dog a treat every time you take him for a walk, but only after he uses the bathroom. Only after a few times will the dog associate using the bathroom outside as being good and will result in a treat thereafter. Letting the dog know that he was wrong, and assure him that a treat will not be given for such behavior will promote it to decrease the times of allowing it to happen. Problem solved, the pup, now a few years old, knows to notify you when a restroom break is needed. For he knows upon arrival back a treat will be his reward. This is the system. We teach our kids only what we want them to know, but not what they need to know. If we can put more effort into providing our kids with the necessary knowledge that will cause them to not only want to continue the push towards excellence, but also want to improve on the efforts put forth to help assist. Kids are like guinea pigs; they know not, therefore they perceive not. We control the future through our kids of tomorrow. The kids will only know what we teach them. So why is it that we decline on teaching our kids that are of the third grade level that of which a fifth grader is learning? Are we afraid they will understand it? A child perceives what is thought to be understood. If all that is taught is excellence, will the child not learn excellence? I can prove this to work in my niece, who is lucky enough to have someone who cares about her education, and future. If you need more proof I would advise you to take a trip to your local library and look up two cultures, African-American and the Chinese; two nationalities that fought through adversity, and continued to stride for excellence. The irony of a satisfying late night snack.

Journey Up the Rabbit Hole

The time has come for me to finally speak my mind. A lot of thought has been placed into if I should even begin this 'journey', yet through answered prayers, God has let me know that this is of His doing. It would only be right if I gave a brief synopsis for my motive behind the title. The Journey is in fact an actual journey that I have embarked on destined for success. My whole life I have been told I was a leader, but to my lack of understanding the true meaning behind the word, I have failed to live up to such a title. My life is best described as falling short of the podium; close but no cigar.


Twenty-four years ago God planted a seed in the coarse garden of Youngstown, OH, that after a long journey to adapt to its environment it would finally be in position to bloom to its fullest potential. That seed would later become know as Michael Phillip Gibson. It took awhile to get to the right level of understanding for me to ultimately be able to move forward in life. A life of blaming others for my faults has only led me down the rabbit hole of my own imagination of confusion. It would not be until I figured out the philosophy of my life that I began to see the light at the top of the hole. This is part of my journey upward.


The following post to come will be geared to help motivate others to come out of their struggles, whatever they may be, and to be able to realize the necessary steps that need to be taken in order to overcome that struggle. My motto I follow now is, "Through my success, others will be healed". It is my goal and purpose to help others. Through God all things are possible, of which I am a firm believer. Also, I would like to add that anything posted hereafter is not intended to harm anyone. This is my journey up the rabbit hole that I embarked on four years ago. My motive was to not only to understand myself, but also improve on every aspect to become a better man. Like an Olympic runner training for a race, it was not without much dedication and hard-work that I was able to arrive at the top of the podium and gain happiness; a feeling that is often forgotten. My purpose for creating this blog was to give a sense of insight to my readers on the long strides that were taken to gain success. God has allowed my seed to be watered enough. It is time to bloom.