04.30.21

I can’t talk to you because I can’t.

I can’t talk to you because I just spent the last twenty years practicing the art of letting go.

I can’t talk to you because for two decades I learned how to detach myself from people, places and things as a way to protect myself from getting hurt.

I can’t talk you to because for too long I have been too good at allowing people, places and things to slide into and out of my life in a way that can only be described as effortless.

I did that for more than twenty years and I got real good at it.

I did it and I knew that it was harmful to everyone and everything involved and while I tried to minimize the damage, I wasn’t able to eliminate it…and then in January something shifted.

In January I turned a corner and I bought this house and I began to settle into the idea that I can end the cycle and I can learn to attach in healthy ways.

In January I got a little closer to me and as time has marched on I feel like I’m a little closer every day to letting one more person, or one more thing, or one more place into who I am.

It’s where I’m at and because I’m here, I need to be here by myself and I need to keep some stuff out because some of the stuff has the capacity to draw me right back into those old habits and that’s not good for anybody.

Getting shut out is a bummer and it usually comes without explanation or perspective. I think that makes it suck even more. Everyone is suffering. Everyone is experiencing things that are uncomfortable. Everyone is also pursuing their happiness. It’s important not to stand in the way of that.

04.28.21

Rode to work today. It’s a real nice spin. Puts me past a mansion pretty early. It’s a crapshoot or some kind of Springsteen song or something. Gonna ride tomorrow, too.

It’s good for the heart. Way better than living in New York.

Drink a gallon a day. Maybe more. Dial it up. Maybe somebody answers.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty.

If your cup is full, may it be again.

04.27.21

Look in the mirror. Acknowledge the reflection.

Breathe deep. Exhale.

Pause. Reflect.

Perspective has many faces.

04.24.21

I moved the plants around today in an effort to resurrect one of them. Also, the fence appears to be holding back those that shall not enter the yard. If only Doug knew they weren’t coming back. The walk was nice. Took the path the kids know. All the sights were sighted and then the sun came out. Porch life happened and hours worth of chill were entertained. East. West. Wind.

04.23.21

Over under and around the outside. It’ll never make sense to anybody but me and that’s the ways it’s going to be. Facts. Walls up. Lawn mowed. One day with a tailwind and the next in the opposite direction. Work harder. Sleep less. Push yourself until you’re asleep standing up. Never mind the vacation. Never mind.

04.22.21

The blue wall of silence has met the solid wall of sound and all the goons are checking their guns at the door. The lyrics help where the words fall short, but it’ll be the action that really paints the pictures that’ll hang in those museums of the future.

We’re gonna get there if we keep pouring into the streets. We’re gonna get there if we keep knocking on those doors. We’re gonna get there if we keep acknowledging things done well. We’re gonna get there when we can truly identify we. We are.

04.20.21

After a bit of a rest, I am back to give this another go. It’s funny how the habit of writing can just slip away.

More soon.

02.10.21

I am not the same person I was:

2 months/years/decades ago

Everything is different now.

02.09.21 pt. 2

Tacos in a mansion and some ham salad on the run. Eat dinner around a spool and get thrown out accordingly. Look backward. Look forward. Everything is irrelevant.

Things are settled now. Settled down. Settling down.

Moved in. Lamps assembled. Chairs arranged. It’s the memories that get sorted in the evenings after work. The cowboy hat on the wall. The creativity spoiling in the fridge. Television minus politics and an abundance of time.

There’s no excuse for the excusing. There’s no arrangement for the arranged. There’s no explanation for the explained.

Drawings on the bathroom wall and some old home movies in the tray underneath the tv. Life was a bit more simple before. It may be again. It may be already.

02.09.21

Tuesday morning quiet dining room. Coffee in the cup and a yogurt down the hatch. The trash is out. The recycling is tidy. Soft light and a fake fireplace. It’s cold outside, but warm in the mind and the body and the soul. How can I help? How can I be of assistance? It’s the fastest way out of self and self is a fiery sea of fear and insecurity and resentment and ego. I cannot reside there, in a boat adrift in that sea. It’s a death trap. A suicide wrap. Better get out while we’re young.

02.08.21

Yelling into a void makes no sense.

Repeating oneself over and over and over again makes no sense.

Believing that any amount of experience is a catalyst to upend ego is actually just ego at work.

Let everything go and just breathe.

02.04.21

One of the things I hold closest to my heart as I think about the time that I spend with my kids is the way the three of us can collectively descend into these bursts of tear inducing laughter. It’s real neat.

02.02.21

I had a feeling that once I landed in this new house I would be flooded with emotions and as a result a whole bunch of words would just dump out of me.

I was wrong.

They’re definitely banging around inside my brain, but they appear real slow to emerge.

That said, I did cry last night or the night before. That was some version of words leaving my body. I failed to capture them and I think that’s okay.

Onward. To be continued.