05.11.20

How much is enough and when should one know when the fill line has been reached?

Nobody knows. 

The human mind is capable of far more than any of us truly realize. The human body is similar, especially in the ways that the mind and body communicate directly with each other. 

For example, the mind may tell us that we simply cannot ride a bike for 100 miles. As a result, when our body begins to reject the idea at mile 50, our mind will, through some sideways manner of internal empathy, encourage the body to just stop and be done. 

Conversely, if the mind has been conditioned to believe that a 100 mile bike ride is absolutely achievable, the body may still respond in the same manner it does in the aforementioned example, but in this case the mind says, “Not yet. We aren’t stopping yet. We’re only halfway.”

Having witnessed, both in myself and in others, these two examples play out time and time again, I am left to believe that our minds and our bodies are capable of far more than we typically allow. 

So why ask the question of how much is too much, only to follow it up with some analogy about riding a bike farther than most would? Because energy. Because physical and emotional energy. How much energy spent is too much for our brains and our bodies and at what point should we realistically pull back? 

The answer is likely specific to each and every individual, but it really boils down to the return on investment quotient. Yes, the ROI. 

So...perhaps a better way to phrase the questions is: What is my ROI on the energy I spend in a day? 

Truthfully, the examination is probably only done in vain and the results, if any, are likely to be left on the table as I rush off to ride to work tomorrow. Now, though, as I am winding down from another day, in what has proven to be a more difficult time to be alive than any I have experienced previously, I am all the way in on this concept. 

How much is too much? I suppose simply acknowledging the question is an indicator. If something feels like too much, it’s likely too much. 

I remember, as I’m writing this, the period just before I filed for bankruptcy in 2009. In the months that led up to filing, I vividly remember getting home from another trip to the store and carrying bags into the house and thinking, “this kind of spending isn’t sustainable.” I thought it, but I didn’t act on it. I knew, in my gut, that the spending wasn’t sustainable and I did nothing to change it. Eventually everything culminated in economic failure and bankruptcy was inevitable. My gut knew. 

It’s an identical process for knowing when my energy is exhausted, or, more specifically, when something is enough and when something is too much. My gut knows, every time, but my mind wants to tell me differently. Body versus mind. It never ends. Back and forth and back and forth. 

I digress. Off topic. Completely off the path and onto an entirely different subject. 

Do I know myself? Do I love myself without ego? Do I see my value without being self-centered? Do I present to others in way that is selfless? In what areas can I improve? Do I hear when I listen? Am I capable of change? Am I inclusive? Do I actually roll with things? Am I a weirdo? How many questions are too many questions?

I’m tired. Exhausted. Taxed. Work is pulling on me and there are no signs that it is going to let up. The kids are far away and my folks are living on an island. I am burning out and if I’m not careful I’m going to crash. Two days off are key.  The internal analysis is helpful. It’s like fuel. A moment here and a moment there and the next thing I know I am fully aware and acknowledging my own discomfort and talking about it and continuing to grow. I continue to create boundaries. Don’t stop. Keep going. There is an end and it’s going to be great. 

05.08.20

I can get real negative. It’s a thing that happens. 

Lately, it’s been happening a lot. It’s probably related to the pandemic that has swept its way across this planet. Additionally, it’s also related to my own inability to practice the things I’ve been working so hard on for the last few years. Those things are, in no particular order...

1. Staying present

2. Acknowledging my own humanity

3. Acknowledging the humanity of others

4. Accepting things as they are

5. Finding positives within negatives

6. Loving myself

7. Loving others

8. Acknowledging my own value

9. Acknowledging the value in others

10. Appreciating the efforts of others

It is way too easy for me to put myself first and align myself with whatever expectations I have developed for the behavior of those that I might intersect with. My trouble in doing lies in the idea that I rarely, if ever, communicate my expectations to the others ahead of casting judgement upon them when they fail to meet said expectations. 

I do this kind of shit all the time and every time I get frustrated and angry. Seems like a real brilliant way to operate. Cast judgement against others when they fail to understand how important my beliefs are and fail to understand why they won’t just see things the way I do because obviously I’m smarter and know way more than they do about everything. Smart.

Another thing I do that is completely useless to me is use the behavior of one thing to build a concrete argument against all things like that one thing. It’s real great and it’s super helpful. 

For example, I’ll ride my bike home from work and there will be a vehicle with an Uber sticker in the window temporarily parked in the bike lane. In this example, I will quietly proclaim to myself that all Uber drivers are assholes and that they can all fuck off and die. Real fair of me. Cast judgement on the whole lot because of the act of one individual driver. It’s genius of me and requires a very large brain. 

This model works really well when analyzing public policy and/or generic institutions like golf or religion. It’s 100% legit to think that all religions are dumb because of the acts of a handful of their followers. Never mind that whatever the religion might be may have millions of followers with millions of different backgrounds. Based solely on my interactions with one of the extreme personalities, I usually find it safe to assume that each and every one of them is completely fucked and should die. More extreme brilliance on my part. So inclusive. 

Man, I can be a real asshole when I’m talking to myself. Every more-so when I actually let the negative words in my head come out and interact with another person’s ears.

I digress. Today I need to be grateful. Tomorrow, too. I need to do the work of staying present and remind myself that even though things might be difficult for me at this moment, things are likely difficult for everyone else, as well, and, as such, we’ll all better off if I can just take an extra breath and do my best to not cast judgement and refrain from being a crabby old man.  

05.07.20

I rode past your old place today. All the way up there. You weren’t home because you don’t live there anymore. It’s been a while actually and a part of me expected the people in the park to be wandering around with their phones, but they were gone, too.

Everything is real weird these days.

05.03.20

It’s May 3rd and I hope you have a real swell day. Wherever you are. Whatever you’re doing. Do it with grace and smile because you’re beautiful when you do.

05.02.20

Get your words out.

All of them. Keeping them in isn’t going to get anything done. If you miss somebody, tell them. If you’re confused about something, ask questions until you’re not. If you’ve simply had enough and can’t take it anymore, go outside and scream.

Get em out. All the way out. You never know what might happen and it’s that fear that’s going to keep you in the uncomfortable place.

Get your words out.

04.30.20 pt. 2

I lit a stick of incense tonight and I turned out the light.

I laid down in my bed and the dog curled up right next to me.

I turned on some tunes to play softly through the speaker just above my head. They’ll play all night, just like they always do.

Today was a great day. Tomorrow looks to be a repeat.

Truly, I hope yours is, too.

Be well and know that you are loved, you are appreciated and that you have value.

04.30.20

Have a wonderful day. Really.

The sun is out here in Minnesota and most of the trees and bushes are beginning to pop out their foliage.

Everything is turning green and it’s real nice…so enjoy it.

We’ll all be dead eventually and when that happens we won’t be able to see anything.

04.29.20

Wind on the bridge. Wind at my back. Wind in my face. It circles, the wind. It seems to come from every direction and it has no real source. It is mysterious to say the least and yet it is rich with metaphors. So many.

I could list some of them.

Or I could just say that I’m tired of trying to figure out the answers to all of life’s troubles. Frankly, I’m tired of seeing things as troubles.

I’ve studied myself for twenty years and made every effort to maximize my time on this planet. I’ve sought out my own efficiencies and worked to execute on them every day. In that time I have also spent my focus on examining others as they encounter situations similar to my own. I have watched and I have learned and I have applied my observations to my own life.

I am efficient. In my actions. In my words. In my being. Everything is is efficient.

I am not done learning. I hope never to be.

I am, however, done trying to solve the worlds problems and I am done trying to prove my theories as the best possible solution.

Today I just am. Just me. Here, as I am.

04.28.20

I took yesterday off to try and manage your anxiety. I started with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee. It helped.

I took yesterday off to try and manage my insecurity. I started with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee. It helped.

I took yesterday off to try and manage my own feelings about how I am in this world. I started with a walk around the block and a cigarette in the driveway. I heard the birds chirping and it reminded me that I have a voice. It helped.

I took yesterday off to try and ease the pain I feel when I think about some of the choices I’ve made in my life. I started with a breathing exercise where I count to a certain number and then do it again with a different number and so on. It was good to slow down and realize my own natural existence. It was good to feel the air pour into my lungs and visualize it serving all of my appendages. It was meditation and it helped.

I took yesterday off to feel alive. I started by getting out of bed and putting my pants on and making a cup of coffee in my little coffee machine. I eased into the day by letting the dog outside and sitting quietly while the sun made its way up and over the horizon. For a few minutes I just sat there and enjoyed everything that was happening around me. It was real nice and it helped and then I got on my bike and rode to work.

Maybe I’ll take tomorrow off, too…

04.27.20

There was a fist fight on the porch today and some talk about slaughtering a whole hog. A scraped forearm and a slipping seatpost. The break didn’t come until well after five. Two nurses talked about unions and furloughs and flat tires. Another nurse checked the box on a checkpoint and Nick came through right near the end. It’s difficult to say when the push will pull back, but it’ll come eventually and then the deep breaths can be had. Until then the sandwiches just sit in the microwave and the phone rings off the hook. The five flows steadily toward the south and wind fires back against on more days than it doesn’t. The legs cramp and the dog snores.

All just a bunch of words.

These are all just words on a screen that flow together as though they had been spoken. That’s the idea anyway. Sometimes there is insight and sometimes there is metaphor. Sometimes these words are recollections and sometimes they are simply just nonsense, but at the end of the day they are all just words. Words that have meaning to all that read them and yet there will never be consistency in how they are understood. It’s not possible. Every single set of eyes that reads these pieces interpret them different. It’s fucking amazing. A real wonder of this beautiful world.

I love you all. Truly I do.

04.26.20

Morning. Birds. Coffee. A dog in the yard. Sunday. Memories and thoughts that lend themselves to good feelings. Time. Wandering mind. A Coleman ice pack. A rusty wrench. A bottle opener shaped like a fish. Plastic chairs and an outdoors rug. Slippers that make winter bearable. Hot sauce and an empty soda bottle. Work lingers. A rush to buy bicycles. Cedar shingles and a treehouse project that makes the dog shake. I remember eating yogurt in the parking lot and I sometimes get sad knowing it didn’t work out. Forward. Virus. Two coolers and a battery charger. Shovels and old mail ruined by the rain. Just keep spending because it’ll surely make everything feel better.

04.23.20

There’s a place right down by the waters edge where all they play is the best music ever, twenty-four hours a day and all they serve is Grandpa’s potato salad. The air around the place smells like incense and all the people you used to know are just hanging out and waiting to laugh about something. In the mornings it’s mostly foggy, but by noon most of the low hanging clouds have lifted and the sun comes out. It’s never too hot and it’s never too cold and nobody ever gets tired, but everybody always seems to sleep when they need to. It’s a real miracle sort of place where you’re always welcome and you can always alternate between drinking real cold water and real cold Cokes. Someday, I’m gonna make it there and I’m just going to ride bikes and sleep in the van and drink black coffee and smoke cigarettes. It’s gonna be real neat. 

04.22.20

The sun is up and it’s going to be a perfect midwestern day. Low wind and warm temps. Bikes will be ridden. Smiles will be had. On some level it’s safe to assume that things will be weird and someone, if not many someone’s, will have an opinion about what is currently unfolding in this nation and feel compelled to share their ideas. It will make them feel better to be heard. Hear them. Do not judge them because their opinion may vary from yours. You got this. Just listen and wish them well.

04.21.20 pt. 2

Circles are squares with four dead ends. Rights are lefts and all the lies you ever told me are just jokes that high school kids tell each other in the lunch room. Don’t trip. That didn’t last long. Fall hard though. Fall over every crack and smash into the sidewalk and get your teeth rebuilt by the family dentist. It’ll all work itself out in Florida or Arizona or some other popular Midwestern getaway space. Whatever. Onward and only ever forward. Spend no time in the mirror because that will only ever show you what’s behind you. In fact, it won’t ever show you what’s ahead. Go.

04.21.20

Tonight I smashed a pizza. I fed my feelings and it felt real good to stuff piece after piece into my wide open pie hole and treat it like exactly that. Tonight I let my jaw unhinge itself and become a garbage disposal for far too much sodium and cholesterol. In fact, for a few fine moments this evening my mouth was just a giant hole in the ground where thousands of underpaid workers shoveled tons and tons and tons of bread and cheese and sauce onto a pile that not one of them was ever able to see with their natural eyes. Even now, as I lay here in this glutinous wake, just feet from where I, just moments ago, let loose the cannons of my intestines, I can still see them all feverishly shoveling scoop after scoop and hurling what was to be my momentary savior into the abyss below. Sweat pouring out from underneath their wide brimmed hats, down to their brows and further into their soaked shirts and stained pants. I can still hear the abrasive sound of their shovels striking into the cheese and the pepperoni. I can still smell the steaming heap as it just laid there waiting, ever so patiently, to end up in my belly. Oh the food. Oh the agony. Oh the feelings...

04.20.20

PAUSE

04.19.20

Four years ago I had a few accounts open on social media. At the time I offered anyone that was interested a handcrafted letter with no obligation. The idea was that I would send a letter to anyone that wanted one with the hopes that they would find some joy in receiving some random selection of words. If I remember correctly there were a few folks that made requests. To keep things brief, I can tell you that I dropped the ball and never sent one…until today.

Recently, someone reached out and asked where their letter was. Feeling the full weight of having stood them up back in 2016, I obliged and sent the following:

(Their name went here),

We hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. These are interesting times we are currently living in and it’s safe to say that would likely go without saying, but it seems appropriate to reference it anyway because that’s how letters work. Typically, there’s a greeting and then some nonsense about the recipients state of being and then a whole bunch of stuff in the middle that revolves around some kind of story. It’s letter stuff and it’s been the same since forever. This one, however, is probably the same, but there’s a small part of us that wants to believe otherwise. 

The middle. This is the substance part. This is the part where we talk about how deserted the highways were today during our drive to and from the great north woods because the roads truly were empty. Not completely empty, but mostly empty because nearly everyone had been told to stay home. Except us. We had essential business to tend to, as we were delivering bikes to children stranded at an abandoned resort with their mother and her fiancé. The trip up and back was not eventful and the visit with the kids was nice, but simultaneously real weird because we don’t really know the fiancé and we definitely don’t know the fiancé’s parents who actually own the property. We went regardless and made the best of it. 

And that leads us to choices. Oh the choices we’ve made...

That’s probably enough about choices. It can be a raw subject sometimes and we usually do a great job of covering up the sorrow with stupid jokes and dirty one liners, but the truth is we still suffer in the space that is our solitude and this pandemic seems to have the whole thing flaming up like a bunch of gas rags in a dumpster. 

It’s a real party and we’re doing our best to try and keep it fun. 

We hope you enjoyed this letter even though it was four years late. 

Signed,

Us (At the time I almost exclusively used “we” instead of “I”)

04.17.20 pt. 2

Forty two donuts and a gallon of sugary drinks. A monster car with some kind of monster engine driven by a some kind of young man who like to smoke joints.

Garbage on the sidewalk.

Kids on scooters that like dogs.

Lies my kindergarten teacher told me.

A friend once ruined my hat and I punched him in the face. There were anger issues in and around the warming house that winter and they all got resolved. No need to be alarmed.

Are you aware that one cannot purchase anything in the way of ham salad in New York City? Tuna salad, yes. Ham salad, no. There are, however, amazing pickles there. Truly.

Whatever you do, don’t talk about work. It isn’t worth it. Just leave work at work and move along. It’s best for everyone.

Spend time listening to classic hip hop. It’s worth every second.

Also, that time in Montana was wonderful. It really was.

04.17.20

Morning coffee and a little bit of fear and the dog wandering through the yard like some kind of four legged zombie. The sun rises silently between the houses and the rusty wrench rests without sound on the four season table. This is the driveway. This is where everyday starts and it’s important to me because it’s familiar and it’s home…which is the first time I’ve referred to it as such since I got here. That’s a big one. Home.

For years I have felt homeless. Today I do not and there is likely significance in that and while I’d love to sit in it for a while and discover the deeper meaning, I have come to learn that the meaning is not what is important because the meaning attaches itself to a timeline that exists outside of just this present moment. Now is all I have and the things that exist around me are only what they are at the time that I experience them and then the moment passes and new things appear and then more moments pass and perhaps I find myself in the presence of the same things I once did. Everything is movement. Everything is transient. Everything is simply just everything and for now, I am home.

What a morning! The world seemingly on fire in nearly every way around me and here I am in this driveway feeling content. The fear and the influence of others and the paranoia and everything that lends itself to being awful is exactly that, awful. And it exists. It is all real and there is death and famine and poverty and a million plagues and disparity and anguish and yet here, in this one solitary moment there is peace because there is an awareness within me that acknowledges everything as it is inside of me and out.

It might not translate into a concept that can easily be digested, and I am not writing these things so that can happen. Rather, I am writing these things because these thoughts and ideas exist inside my mind and if I don’t get them out they will live in there and fester and transform into other things that I cannot interpret and I’ll end up wondering who I am and why I exist at all. It’s a slippery slope when I keep the words in and I suppose if there is any takeaway from this at all it is this:

Get your words out in whatever format feels right to you; speak them, write them, sing them, paint them. Whatever you need to do, get the words out of your brain and into the world.

This kind of communication, this kind of fundamental transmission will likely open the locked doors and the shuttered windows and the empty, cavernous hallways of your mind to new words and then the cycle can be repeated. It’s an exercise and it’s what I’ve found to work for me. Take it if you like it. Leave it if you don’t.

04.15.20 pt. 3

Oh what a walk can do…

I got home from work in a real foul mood, as was evidenced in the last post, and I should clarify that this room still smells like barf and that’s pretty gross. Actually, right now it smells like vomit and Nag Champa because I lit a stick of incense before I left to take the dog for a walk thinking it would improve the atmosphere while we were gone, but as it turns out it only added a fragrant aroma to an otherwise horrible scent. It happens.

I digress. The walk. To the river and back. Easy. Except for the part where some guy was effectively dragging his overweight pit bull behind, or alongside, or however the whole thing was situated in relationship to his bike while he was dragging his blue tennis shoe along the pavement to slow the whole rolling ball of flaming garbage to a more respectable pace. It was definitely something and it could only be one-upped by the family that was casually cruising through the neighborhood in their clapped-out late model mini van with their pit bull standing with its front legs on the dashboard and it’s face essentially pressed against the front window. The humanity outdoors tonight was magic.

That was the first three blocks.

Things calmed down for a bit after that.

As the walk continued, University Avenue was crossed and then the railroad tracks. The neighborhood was silent. No cars. No people. This was likely the case because the temperature here currently is well below freezing and everyone is staying inside because of an executive order signed by the Governor of this great state. It made for a pleasant stroll either way and eventually led to the halfway point, the parking lot behind the Sample Room and the sunset.

The river below was moving quickly and the wind coming in from the north was brisk, but the gentle pink and orange and yellow hues above the ever-majestic Northern Metals pile of disgusting was worth every step and while the dog wouldn’t stop pulling on the leash, the setting ball of fire served as a kind reminder that tomorrow is a new day. It was something to put in my pocket.

A cigarette was smoked and laughs were had…and then we saw her. Or them. Or whomever. Across the parking lot, back in the direction of the house, walked a human of some kind and they weren’t wearing any pants and while I’m not ever going to tell anyone what they can and cannot do, there seems to be a general lack of critical thinking in the air these days and I’m concerned about the welfare of the working class in some of the neighborhoods in Minneapolis. It’s fucking cold outside and while pants are not a foolproof way to stay warm, they do serve as a real goddamn good place to start. Sheesh.

Regardless, none of the aforementioned things are the ticket to rewriting what was an otherwise awful day of human operation for me. The big winner, the golden ticket as it was, was going into the local bodega to grab some smokes before heading back to the campsite. Until just recently there has been a fully functioning tobacco store directly adjacent to this fine purveyor of foil bagged chips and sugary sodas. Today, the tobacco store was boarded up and closed because they hadn’t qualified as essential in this stunning time of Coronavirus. The dice were rolled and one of us went in to inquire as to whether or not a couple of packs of cigarettes could be acquired in lieu of purchasing chips and soda and that’s when something miraculous happened.

Upon being asked about the cigarettes, the young man behind the counter eyeballed the curious and said, “Yeah. Just go through that door in the back.”

That door. That wonderful doorway to the holy land.

When Dan finally came out, he explained what had happened to me and I couldn’t resist. I simply couldn’t resist…so I went in.

At the counter I asked for cigarettes. I was eyeballed similarly and sent to the door. I obliged and when I walked through I saw a dimly lit space that looked exactly like the tobacco store that I had just recently come to know and love. I walked in. Behind the counter was the same lovely woman who had helped me just days ago. Without asking she grabbed what she knew I wanted and we went through the same process we had before. I paid, thanked her and walked out through the same door through which I had entered. I was smiling. Things had shifted. My day had turned around. It was incredible and it was all because of the mesmerizing tenacity of the local tobacconist. What a fucking day. A real party.