07.17.20

Forty seven seltzer drinks all stuffed to the rim with enough alcohol to absolve infection. Broken washing machines lined up to rinse and repeat the dozens of wet blankets left behind by the woman that stomped out your heart. You are an island. Surrounded by water and one thousand years of tears. You are the tree in the forest that no one hears fall. You are the abandon car on the freeway set ablaze by the millions that march. 

Busted porch planks and thick, humid air that saturates your stained and soiled shirts. Greasy knuckles and dirty finger nails from spending too many days behind baths. You are a failure with cracked teeth and popcorn fingers. You beat yourself up for the things you’ve done in your past and can’t forgive yourself for anything long enough to actually get to the present. You’re a sunken canoe in a river of lost causes and abandoned hope.

Eat a stick of dynamite and abstain from attending bonfires. Wash your hair in a lake and catch the rash that lives in the shoreline urine. Bright light ignites your face in what is otherwise darkness and your dog lies on your bed in contempt. Empty food bowls and dirty water. You got it wrong again and you’re bound to finish last. Washed up and forgotten by yourself. A gravel king with no crown and no high back chair to hold court in.

You’ll eat from the trash when the clock strikes midnight and it doesn’t matter how you show up because if you were once a loser, you’ll always be a loser and you’ll never forget those words. Delivered to the door. Delivered to the desk. Books thrown about and you weigh more than you want to. It’s all part of the fun...says the man hiding behind the desk. It’s not surgery. It’s not brain science. It’s just life and you’ll be fine. 

07.16.20

I do not enjoy the luxury of an abundance of time and/or space.

I spend the majority of my time (nearly all) in the company of other human beings.

I am tired, I am exhausted and I am sad.

07.12.20

Can I accept you exactly as you are? In this moment? Can I accept your differences as they relate to mine? Can I extend love and compassion to you? Can I look past your hate and animosity with empathy and compassion? Can I do this for you and for all beings? 

What is it inside me that condemns? What drives my ego into expectation? What is it about myself that I am disgusted with that drives me to project my own self-loathing onto you?

How can I become a better human that loves and respects all other humans? Is there a line in the sand for that love and respect? Is there some breaking point that I cannot cross? Is it even possible to love everyone without judgement? 

What about racists and bigots and people who breathe hate? Is it possible to love them as humans? Is it possible to be empathetic to them and their toolset and their education on the matters of hate? Is it possible to love unanimously? Is it possible to accept all beings for exactly what they are?

In accepting all beings, am I complicit in their negativity and hate? Is it better to combat hate with hate? Is it better to confront violence with violence? Where does the hate end and the love begin? 

I am either all in, or I am all out. 

07.10.20

Have a nervous breakdown and turn the volume all the way down. Consider that trip to North Dakota. Get in the van and keep the windows up. It’s hot, but it’s likely not deadly. Shift. Get moved around. Try to focus and get distracted. Accept things exactly as they are. It simply is or it isn’t. There are no absolutes. Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing lasts forever. Birth, life, death. It’s the same for everybody. What happens in the middle is irrelevant. Stop. Just stop. Just stop and start over. Again. Pay down your debt. Focus on the kids. Get them a house with a couple of bedrooms. Turn it off. Turn it all off. When the volume goes down the anxiety follows. It can be done. Get comfortable with solitude. Look in the mirror and appreciate the reflection. You are you and that’s never going to change. Exercise. Drink water. Eat better. Enjoy everything and change for no one. You got this. You always have. 

07.04.20

Fireworks outside the window and some white line fever that just can’t ever seem to be curbed. A dog in a panic. Heat rising through old growth cedar. A handful of fans operating on twenty-four hour clocks. A coffee maker that lives for morning. There is panic in the air and some subtle light that ebbs and flows. Birds and rabbits and squirrels. More chairs than humans and box after box after box. It’s summer here in Minnesota and I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

06.16.20

I’m not interested. I’m disappointed.

Midtown. Downtown. Uptown. South. North. Near North. Northeast. Southeast.

The Western suburbs.

The ABC’s.

St. Paul.

I don’t really care. I had a bunch of months of really fucking great and now I’m tired. I’m displaced. Again. The neighborhood I loved and showed up for isn’t there for me anymore and it’s sad.

The racist suburbs are vomit inducing and the city appears to be following suit. You’re not a liberal or a conservative, you’re racist.

Fuck it. All of it. 

I hate it. The racism. The judgement. The bias. The bigotry. The misogyny. I hate all of it. 

The jokes. The carelessness. The lack of empathy. The NIMBY bullshit.

TAKE CARE OF YOUR SHIT!

TAKE CARE OF YOUR NEIGHBOR!

TAKE CARE OF YOUR EARTH!

FUCK YOUR POLITICS AND YOUR DEMOCRAT REPUBLICAN NONSENSE!

FUCK YOUR NEWS!

FUCK YOUR OPINION!

FUCK YOUR BELIEF!

FUCK DONALD TRUMP!

I don’t give a shit who you voted for because I no longer believe in the American government. It is slanted to protect white people and always gives a little extra effort to protect the rich white people. 

I don’t care about your cause because it isn’t any better than the next one and unless it directly opposes racism and/or economic inequality it’s a fucking waste of time.

JUST FUCKING LOVE PEOPLE!!!!!

LOVE ALL OF THEM. EQUALLY!!! 

LOVE EVERYONE!!!!!!!

ACTUALLY, YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK THIS. ALL OF IT. FUCK THIS WEBSITE AND FUCK THE INTERNET AND FUCK SOCIAL MEDIA AND FUCK DRINKING. IT’S STUPID AND IT DOESN’T DO ANYBODY ANY GOOD AND IT ONLY CAUSES TROUBLE FOR PEOPLE. 

IF ANYBODY NEEDS ME I’LL BE OUT BY THE DUMPSTER. BY MYSELF. TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO SHOW UP CONSISTENTLY FOR EVERYBODY WITH A HEART FULL OF EMPATHY AND KINDNESS AND LOVE AND UNTIL YOU’RE GENUINELY READY TO DO THE SAME YOU CAN LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

06.09.20

Vulnerability and comfort zones.

I need more of one and less of the other.

Walls and sidewalks.

I need less of one and more of the other.

I am human and, as such, fallible.

I am human and, as such, capable of growth.

Am I willing to grow?

Am I willing to acknowledge and accept?

Can I find the path that allows for balance, or am I so committed to my way being the only way that I am willing to ignore and disregard?

My reflection in the river is a reasonable description of my self, but I am ignorant to believe that my reflection is not as constantly moving as the river. When I fully understand that, I am as close to constant growth as I will ever be. 

06.06.20

Light and dark. Lightness and darkness. Good and evil. Just and unjust. White and black.

Think about that. Think long and hard about that and then come back to this.

***

These are all words. Just simple words. Words we use every day and words we’ve been using for centuries.

Light is almost always attached to good things and dark is almost always attached to bad things. White is for weddings and black is for funerals. Daytime is safe and nighttime is scary. We teach our kids this. Culturally, we embrace these concepts and today, as I think about all of this I cannot help but think that our separation of light and dark stems from the idea of white being supreme over dark.

Yes, I wrote that.

Culturally we have established that light is greater than dark and we have passed down, from generation to generation, the idea that white is greater than any other color.

As a society, we have attached value to color and we applied that value to human life.

Last night I heard two white men talking to each other as they dismantled the plywood shell that had been placed over the glass of a store front near the University of Minnesota. As they used their drills to remove the last screw on the piece of wood that would finally reveal the previously covered window, one of the men said, “let there be light”. It was a casual statement and a subtle celebration. As commentary, it likely originated in that person’s upbringing and education. A knee jerk response. Something this person has probably said hundreds of times, and before the most recent killing of an unarmed black man, something that most people would have agreed with. To these men, the plywood shield coming down was indicative of something worth celebrating. To these men, this act was a return to the security they enjoy in their whiteness. To these men, taking the plywood down marked an entrance into a time where “everyone” could walk around without the fear of riots and violence and chaos.

Unfortunately, walking around without the fear of violence is not a luxury enjoyed by “everyone”. In this nation, this nation of freedom and liberty, walking around without fear is something that has always been reserved for white people.

So…

”Let there be light”…or maybe not.

It made me sad to hear it. It made me stop and think. It made me want to tell everyone to just stop and think before they say something.

The words we use travel farther than we know and they always will.

As you go through your day, please think about the words you use and the learned and inherent values that are attached to them.

The world is positively changing right before us and we can add to that in ways that are simultaneously simple and complex.

Words. Use them wisely.

06.02.20

If you are white:

Shut your mouth for a bit. Listen for the cues on how you can help make things better for people that are not white.

Just do that…and keep your mouth shut. Seriously.

06.01.20

The events that have transpired over the course of the last week and the two months prior have allowed for a shift in the way we exist. That is to say that an opportunity to become more intentional has presented itself. When we have been asked to stay home to prevent the spread of a worldwide virus, we have become more intentional about where we go and when we go there. We have become more intentional about who we interact with and how. We have become more intentional about the food we buy and what we eat.

When the tragedy that struck Minneapolis one week ago happened, it triggered a response that no one could have anticipated. The result, while definitely messy and chaotic on a lot of levels, was needed. Subsequently there has been a shift in the language we use and it can be seen throughout our communities, both in person and digitally. In many cases, though, words weren’t wanted. Lip service, as we have become accustomed to hearing, wasn’t going to be enough this time. Hollow speeches weren’t going to change anything. So there was a physical push and riots happened and fires burned and what it did was get everyone’s attention. The violence was action. The protests were action. All of it was action and scores and scores of folks, in the face of all that was unfolding, kept talking…and then something happened.

More words happened, but they were different.

Yesterday the Governor of Minnesota held a press conference and absolutely owned it. He spoke about accountability and made statements that indicated an immediate shift in the way things will be done going forward to address Minnesota’s inequities. They were just words, but they were different. What I heard was ownership and accountability. What I heard was action and it got me to thinking about the following:

When words are spoken they become actions in that they are produced in our vocal chords and expelled by the movement of our tongue and lips.

If we acknowledge the actionable shift in our dialect, we can follow that with the other parts of our body, our non-verbal communication points.

Additionally, the more we exercise our mouths and our arms and our hands and our cores to this, the more likely our brains are to follow.

If we are to become the change we want to see in others, first we must begin with ourselves. Let’s alter our language. Let’s change our vernacular. Let’s go forward with inclusion and engagement. Let’s change our world.

05.30.20

I woke up this morning with the light on, after sleeping in my clothes, on top of my covers. This has been the case for the past three nights. Sleeping for two hours, fully clothed.

When I got up today, I started my normal routine, but realized that the slippers I normally wear to let the dog out weren’t appropriate. Instead, my brain told me to put on the sneakers…just in case. When I got outside, instead of sitting down in the chair to let the dog do his thing, I went out to the street to see if all the windows in my car and van were still there…they were. While fully intact, the car and van were covered in ash from the legacies that burned in North Minneapolis last night.

While I was still in the street my immediate manager called me. We spoke for a few minutes about everything and it was nice to get some words out.

Eventually I made my way back up the driveway to assume some level of morning normalcy and drink my cup of coffee.

A few minutes later the owner of the company I work for called me. He and I spoke for several minutes. He told me he supports me in every way. I appreciate him for that. As we spoke, I cried and then he cried. It was impactful. It felt good to get the tears out.

When we got off the phone I felt different. The air felt different. Everything felt different.

Now, an hour later, as I sit here in the driveway and type this I am calm. I have music playing for the first time in a couple of days. The air in this part of the city is different. I can feel community again. I can feel a sense of togetherness. I can feel a shift in the tide of what has been violence and chaos for the last three days.

I love this city. I love Minneapolis. I love the Midtown neighborhood and I know it’s in pain right now. I am here and I am staying. We will grow through this and beyond it. We will emerge strong and united and hopefully more near equal. I believe that this morning and I hope you do, too.

05.29.20

My city is on fire. My shop is emptied and likely will not reopen. My heart is heavy for all those that suffer from inequality and I support their calls for change. Words and thoughts and prayers are empty. Even these. Action is needed. Now.

After every forest fire there is a period of rebirth and through that process of beginning again everything is vibrant and full of life.

05.26.20

It only took forty two years and thirteen hours to realize there is not just one question. In fact, there is no question at all. Therefore, there are no answers. Everything simply is exactly what it is.

Do whatever you like. That’s my plan.

05.23.20 pt. 2

Two drawers full of soup cans. Some with labels and some without. Cost effective. Time effective. Everything effective. Build community. Stay true. Never sell out. Take what’s yours and leave the rest. Pack it in, pack it out. A family of seven…six of whom appear to be under the age of twenty one. One of whom appears to have abandoned the dress code. Branch Covidians. Snow geese and trumpeter swans. Deer. Tired legs. Just words. Tired every day. More cases popped in the city. The hospitals and busy. Full and getting fuller. Like that house in San Francisco. Tunes in the air. Even the dog is tired. Just writing things as they pop in my head. It’s meditative. Or at least it was way back when in the attic with the little sand garden. Electrical outlets and concrete walls. Redo the floors. Tear out the bathroom. Remodel the kitchen. Do it again. Save space. Spend money. Run on sentence. Run a marathon. Run a 5k. Run until you’re done and then stop running. Ride bikes. Ride them because your ego told you to. Ride them until you quit. Take a break. Find bikes again. Ride them because it feels good. Do push ups. Take rest days. Take care of yourself you big dumb idiot. Stop pushing yourself until you collapse. It didn’t work ever and it’s not working now. Create boundaries and stick to them. Eat better and drink water. Drink more water. Get good sleep. At least try to get good sleep. It is possible. Understand that you are only one person and that as one person you have limits to what you can get done in a day or a week or a month. Understand that if you exhaust yourself by extending yourself to people at work and the kids and the people outside of work that there won’t be anything left for you. Understand burnout. Understand self-care. Understand the importance of taking time to take care of yourself. Laugh. Write this out like its some kind of Baz Luhrman song from the 90’s. You’re ridiculous. Always with the introspection and the self-help. Just relax. Stop looking at the problem and understand that you are a human just like all the other humans and that as such you are subject to feelings and emotions and that you’re not always going to get it right. You will make mistakes. You will stumble. You will get up and try again. You will and eventually you do that enough times that you’ll be old and then you’ll die. Try to have fun along the way. Do things that feel good until they don’t and then do different things. Regret nothing. Go forward. It’s gonna be rad.

05.23.20

I prayed to god last night and as I’ve thought about it since I’ve wondered what they look like and what it is they do and where it is that they actually reside. I’ve thought about the process and how the act of praying is me signing over my beliefs and my fears, which are all manifestations of my mind to some supreme, all-seeing being that also only exists within the confines of my beliefs. Let me write that again. 

When I pray to god I am handing over my beliefs to my beliefs...my ideas to my ideas. 

What is that? How does that actually function? Culturally we’ve created a deity that is widely accepted, believed. This deity is all-knowing and all-powerful. According to common theory, this deity, this god, channels our beliefs, our opinions, into positive acts that shape and define our societies. That’s a lot to swallow. 

Some all-understanding myth that only exists in our minds has the power to alter and shape the interactions we have with other living creatures? How does that work? 

Hmmm...

05.22.20

Alcohol dreams. Smashed beer cans and the hopelessness that accompanies them. For years I had no issue being around the consumption of alcoholic beverages, but as of late I have grown to see it in the same light as any other form of capitalistic consumption. 

Consume. Consume. Consume. 

It’s what we do in this country. We consume things. Land and water and plastic and rare earth metals. Plastic and wood and fabric and leather. Food and plants and air and alcohol. We selfishly consume for our own benefit and we do it in such a way that we generally disregard those that may come in our footsteps. We consume to our own demise.

We want and we want and we want.

We forego the fundamentals of our own basic needs and we actively work to fulfill every desire of our wants. We demand more and more and more for less and less and less. We asked for more of the things we want at our finger tips and we got everything we could have ever wished for. We wanted shopping in our homes because going out to the store was just too much effort. We wanted a food supply chain that seemed endless and approachable. We wanted everything delivered to our door and we got it. We wanted big box stores for one stop shopping and we got it. We wanted everything to make our lives easier and in the blink of an eye we got it. We wanted bigger houses and faster cars that could play our music wirelessly and keep the temperature right where we felt the most comfortable. We wanted to be cool when it was hot and warm when it was cold. We wanted everything and we got it and the price we paid was something that we could never get back. The price we paid was higher than anything we could ever imagine. Oh...the price we paid. Oh...the price we are paying. Oh...where do we even begin?

We begin at the end. We begin when we’ve had enough. We begin when we’ve died and rotted and have been faced with a new life and a new series of roadways and paths that lead to other roadways and paths. We begin when we abandon our wants and we strive simply to meet our needs. We begin when we acknowledge that the newest shiny thing isn’t going to solve our dilemma. We begin when we realize that our consumption is the thing that holds us in the trenches and pits us against ourselves and our fellows. We begin when we conclude that our best efforts in the ways of wanting and wanting and wanting are the very things that hold our hands against the flames and our faces against the wall. We begin when we give up our longing to achieve and compare and out do our neighbors and our friends and our coworkers. We begin when we end. 

We begin when we end. We begin when we give up. When begin when we stop fighting ourselves. We begin when our awareness of our selves looks no different that those around us. That’s when it all starts. That’s when the real living begins and the fraudulent living ends. That’s when we become our true selves...when we realize that everything is exactly as it should be and our wants never exceed our needs. 

Perhaps we can just start all this tomorrow...for tonight we’ve already thrown the ideas away because it’s too late to care and the sun is down and the idea factory has shut down? Perhaps tomorrow we can give it another go? Perhaps tomorrow?

05.19.20

Reflections. Connections. Fist fights outside of work and longer hours. Masks all day and the sauna that creates for the skull. No, you can’t use the bathroom. No, the cafe isn’t open. No, you can’t borrow tools. No, I can’t fix your bike for free. No, you can’t. No. No. No. I need you to step back. I need six feet please. I just need some space. Just give me some goddamn space. 

Twenty years. It’s been almost twenty years since I’ve consumed a drop of alcohol. Twenty years. Everything difficult in my life has been done without the escape hatch known as liquor. It’s amazing. That’s the reflection. Reflecting on twenty years of just the act of getting sober and having a kid and getting married and having two more kids and buying a house and buying another house and going bankrupt and getting divorced and moving across the country and moving back and changing careers and having nothing and starting over and being lonely and just wanting someone to understand but not being able to manage the emotional seas connected to living through everything without a crutch. Living through everything at full speed and having my wages garnished for the last twenty years. Living through all of that and constantly trying to work to be a better, more aware human and all the while just wanting to be held and told that everything is going to be just fine. It’s why I tried to climb under the couch those nights in New York. I just wanted to be held. Oh well. Time goes. It just does. It moves forward and I wake up and I do my best and try to do right by others and I try to stay positive and I do a good job of it. I do. Everything is exactly as it should be and I haven’t drank in twenty years. 

Twenty motherfucking years. That’s a long ass time to show up as who I am in every situation. It’s a long time to not be affected by a liquid…so when I see other people show up affected it bothers me because I no longer understand it. I don’t get the affect. I don’t get the effect. It no longer makes sense to me and it doesn’t have to.

This is all just me processing stuff and thinking about how I got here in this moment. 

05.14.20

A chain of lakes and a network of winding roads. A tiny little town shut down by the powers that be. Clocks stopped. Everything on pause.

A visit to the great north woods. Sand in every direction and birch trees and pine trees and a shuffle board court long forgotten.

This is where my kids live. Way up here in all of this. Way up here in all of this quiet and seclusion. Way up here in this foreign land.

And me? I do not live here. I am transient. I am a visitor in the places I occupy and I have been for years. I am a loner. I am lonely. Hunkered down in the back of this 25 year old van trying to find the smallest of pleasures to ease the pain that comes with wandering around. Coffee from fresh beans. Incense in the air. Anything. A smile. A laugh. I’m pretty good at it. In fact, I’m great. I laugh and I joke and I always have the words to make light of everything because it’s what I’ve been doing for twenty years...finding the silver lining.

Twenty years. Twenty fucking years. Not a drop of liquor. Not a single drug. Nothing to alter my mind. For twenty years I have worked to make chicken salad out of chicken shit and I have done an amazing job. I really should be proud of the effort.

Instead, I’m in the back of a van and I’m lonely and it doesn’t matter if I’m in this van or in the room at the house or in a crowd of people...I’m lonely, but man have I got the jokes and the funny stories and the stories of amazing adventures. I have it all. A library full. It’s incredible the lengths I’ve gone to. Coping mechanisms. Walls. All of it and yet somehow I expect to find some exit door. Somehow I’ve convinced myself that I’ll find that escape hatch and I’ll step through it and I’ll find that alternative universe where I feel a part of, rather than apart from. Someday. I keep telling myself that. It helps with the present. Whistling in the dark.