In the south, we call it Fall. The rest of the world may fancy it up and call it Autumn, but in the South, we are reminded of the short season by the changing of the leaves and their descent from the trees like so many copper parachutes.
October is the transition from boiling heat to winter cold. November is bitter and August is cruel, but October is the gift giver. Miracles are commonplace in my life, I have been blessed with health, children, good horses, great fights, and beautiful women. I have, at times, been at war with the source of the miracles.
You may call it God or the Tao -- finding your own faith is key, I know what I believe. And I have made war of that granter of miracles for a long time. Be careful what you wish for, I asked to change lives and people entered and exited my life with alarming speed, changing as they went. But once I said a prayer, if you will, I said I would stop struggling against my role in the universe if I heard a certain set of words under very specific circumstances, in the belief that I never would. October gifts. It's a private matter and changes my world completely without changing a thing. But it was another miracle that laid me flat.
Words and deeds are the only gifts that matter at the end of the day, all other things are as dust. On the off-hand chance that I am not actually immortal, my words will be my immortality for a time, echoing in forever, or not.
What is a miracle but a gift for which there is no expectation, no understanding. You accept it and learn to be selfish and covetous of that moment, because it is yours and everything in it belongs to you. Hold it and know that it is yours for always, like the cycle of the seasons. October has come and brought its gifts and there is only tomorrow before us and all the miracles that come with it. The people you love, the change of things as they move through the cycles of life, for few things remain -- except the promise of always and the gifts of October.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade...
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
When I was a younger man, I was a fighter. I hesitate to call it boxing. I did box, but I never fought as many times with gloves on as I did with them off. It paid bills. It was dumb, but it was something I did. No one ever asked me about marks on my face because I seldom had them. My forearms and biceps and ribs would be bruised, but not my face. I protected my face.
My hand are meathooks. I have big hands. My dad says I should have been a machinist. I have short, blunt fingers, pronounced thumb muscles, and thick knuckles. The old man would say: "Those hands are for a machine shop, or for beating a man." They seem to work well enough on the keyboard. I've never been particularly fast with my hands. My punch count was usually two-thirds of my opponents. But I seldom lost. Because my strength is that I never quit. Ever.
I never give up on people. I never give up a fight. I never quit hunting, seeking, hoping, loving and (sadly) hating. It's part of the passion. I love to hunt. I love to love. And, sadly, I love to hate.
The past few years have been rough. Divorce, problems with my youngest daughter, jobs, friendships. But I remain. This is not self aggrandizement, it's a recognition of the self that I tried to forget. The fighter.
I am a lucky man. I meet people for a reason. Sometimes I change their lives forever. Sometimes it has to wait. I have long since given up on believing in coincidence. When I make eye contact and there is a moment of understanding and people just unload their lives on me or try to get me to stay just one moment longer, I wait. I listen.
I am a mountain. I am patient and unmovable. I'm a fighter that never quits. Even when life is good, and, frankly, for me it is seldom bad. I am a very lucky man. I never live in fear.
I would usually say my "Prayer" about invincibility. But instead, I issue a challenge to the universe, the one I always issue. "Is that all you've got?" And end with a quote that both establishes my geek-cred and says it all.
"No, madman! Whatever you may see there -- it is not fear! Fear is for lesser men. Never for Doom!" - Victor Von Doom
And for all of us, through the heartbreak of loss and the everyday worries and struggles, we have one prayer in those moments "Today, let me be invincible"
til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
When I was a younger man, I was a fighter. I hesitate to call it boxing. I did box, but I never fought as many times with gloves on as I did with them off. It paid bills. It was dumb, but it was something I did. No one ever asked me about marks on my face because I seldom had them. My forearms and biceps and ribs would be bruised, but not my face. I protected my face.
My hand are meathooks. I have big hands. My dad says I should have been a machinist. I have short, blunt fingers, pronounced thumb muscles, and thick knuckles. The old man would say: "Those hands are for a machine shop, or for beating a man." They seem to work well enough on the keyboard. I've never been particularly fast with my hands. My punch count was usually two-thirds of my opponents. But I seldom lost. Because my strength is that I never quit. Ever.
I never give up on people. I never give up a fight. I never quit hunting, seeking, hoping, loving and (sadly) hating. It's part of the passion. I love to hunt. I love to love. And, sadly, I love to hate.
The past few years have been rough. Divorce, problems with my youngest daughter, jobs, friendships. But I remain. This is not self aggrandizement, it's a recognition of the self that I tried to forget. The fighter.
I am a lucky man. I meet people for a reason. Sometimes I change their lives forever. Sometimes it has to wait. I have long since given up on believing in coincidence. When I make eye contact and there is a moment of understanding and people just unload their lives on me or try to get me to stay just one moment longer, I wait. I listen.
I am a mountain. I am patient and unmovable. I'm a fighter that never quits. Even when life is good, and, frankly, for me it is seldom bad. I am a very lucky man. I never live in fear.
I would usually say my "Prayer" about invincibility. But instead, I issue a challenge to the universe, the one I always issue. "Is that all you've got?" And end with a quote that both establishes my geek-cred and says it all.
"No, madman! Whatever you may see there -- it is not fear! Fear is for lesser men. Never for Doom!" - Victor Von Doom
And for all of us, through the heartbreak of loss and the everyday worries and struggles, we have one prayer in those moments "Today, let me be invincible"
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The Magician and the Fool
Flip through the tarot deck and flip over a card. The Magician, that's me.
Traveling on his way, the Fool first encounters a Magician. Skillful, self-confident, a powerful magus with the infinite as a halo floating above his head, the Magician mesmerizes the Fool. When asked, the Fool gives over his bundled pack and stick to the Magician. Raising his wand to heaven, pointing his finger to Earth, the Magician calls on all powers; magically, the cloth of the pack unfolds upon the table, revealing its contents. And to the Fool's eyes it is as if the Magician has created the future with a word. All the possibilities are laid out, all the directions he can take. The cool, airy Sword of intellect and communication, the fiery Wand of spirituality and ambition, the overflowing Chalice of Love and emotions, the solid Pentacle of work, possessions and body. With these tools, the Fool can create anything, make anything of his life. But here's the question, did the Magician create the tools, or were they already in the pack? Only the Magician knows - and on this mystery, our eloquent mage refuses to say a word.
Standing at the crossroad, unwrapping the traveler's pack, showing them the road and the tools they have. I spoke with someone today, looked through all their layers into their souls and listened. A kindred spirit with a guarded heart.
It's unsettling sometimes, talking to people and seeing things. Some come closer and show it all, others run and hide because they fear for someone to see. We all guard our hearts to one degree or another, I know I do, while I ache to have it taken and risk the bittersweet heartbreak.
It's to feel, to burn.
Burn with me.
Traveling on his way, the Fool first encounters a Magician. Skillful, self-confident, a powerful magus with the infinite as a halo floating above his head, the Magician mesmerizes the Fool. When asked, the Fool gives over his bundled pack and stick to the Magician. Raising his wand to heaven, pointing his finger to Earth, the Magician calls on all powers; magically, the cloth of the pack unfolds upon the table, revealing its contents. And to the Fool's eyes it is as if the Magician has created the future with a word. All the possibilities are laid out, all the directions he can take. The cool, airy Sword of intellect and communication, the fiery Wand of spirituality and ambition, the overflowing Chalice of Love and emotions, the solid Pentacle of work, possessions and body. With these tools, the Fool can create anything, make anything of his life. But here's the question, did the Magician create the tools, or were they already in the pack? Only the Magician knows - and on this mystery, our eloquent mage refuses to say a word.
Standing at the crossroad, unwrapping the traveler's pack, showing them the road and the tools they have. I spoke with someone today, looked through all their layers into their souls and listened. A kindred spirit with a guarded heart.
It's unsettling sometimes, talking to people and seeing things. Some come closer and show it all, others run and hide because they fear for someone to see. We all guard our hearts to one degree or another, I know I do, while I ache to have it taken and risk the bittersweet heartbreak.
It's to feel, to burn.
Burn with me.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Our Cancer Year - Followup
The report came back from the doctor. It's not cancer and it's not AIDS. Apparently the issue looked enough like an auto-immune problem that they checked. Where do we go from here? Another specialist to see if it's an infectious disease.
When you put it that way, it's still a scary proposition, but it's not cancer. Heather told me and I started to cry. Relief flooded into me and I just let go. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.
Today is a good day, because it's not cancer. Today is a good day because we have hope and the future and so long as we have those, we are invincible.
When you put it that way, it's still a scary proposition, but it's not cancer. Heather told me and I started to cry. Relief flooded into me and I just let go. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.
Today is a good day, because it's not cancer. Today is a good day because we have hope and the future and so long as we have those, we are invincible.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Our Cancer Year (with apologies to Harvey Pekar)
I am a private person and don't usually do this sort of thing, but I feel a little bit obliged to talk about things. It has been a rough year for my friends and families. Not just issues with work and family, but cancer has been a huge burden and source of loss for them (and, by extension, me).
My daughter Heather, goes into surgery next Tuesday (July 28th) to have a lymph node removed and biopsied. Doctors, in the manner of their kind, prepare you for the worst and hope for the best. Heather shows no sign of infection, so their worst case scenario is cancer or an auto-immune disease. She has no insurance, so all of the medical expenses have been out-of-pocket for us. Fortunately, family has stepped up to help reduce the burden, but it has made her miss work and has impacted us financially.
This is not a cry for help or a request for financial aid, what it is, is me reaching out to you and saying a few things:
A) Hug your parents, your kids, your loved ones. Tell them you love them, it's worth it.
B) Put life into perspective. I work with an AIDS foundation in my spare time and have had many friends and family members impacted by cancer (I'm sure you have too). All of the little things and all of the anger and complaints about your life dwindle to nothing by comparison.
C) The financial and familial impact of this experience may make me short tempered and less tolerant. If I am, please forgive me.
D) These things will take first priority for me, that means other things take second and third place. My daughter comes first.
So, if I don't want your sympathy or your money, what do I want? Your prayers/invocations/good thoughts/secular humanist considerations for me and my family at this time, particularly my daughter Heather. My life has been one of miracles and I don't plan to run out of them now, but every little bit helps.
In other news, my daughter Katie is still in lock-up. She has court on August 13th and they are likely to send her home. The home in question may be mine and may be my ex-wife's home. The issue here is that Katie has not improved, she's gotten worse. DFACS is telling three different conflicting stories and the case workers I was dealing with have all resigned from the agency. So, where does that leave me? Back at square one. The courts have yet to punish Katie fully for her habitual violations of her probation. As a result, she has no more respect for the law than she did before, less in fact. She doesn't see them as a threat.
It's been a challenge. But, you know me, I'm invincible.
On the other hand, I have good friends and a good family. I never want for the love of good people. My life, as I say, is one of miracles and I am the luckiest son-of-a-bitch alive.
What's the point? I'm learning to share the burden, at least, I'm trying to.
Peace
My daughter Heather, goes into surgery next Tuesday (July 28th) to have a lymph node removed and biopsied. Doctors, in the manner of their kind, prepare you for the worst and hope for the best. Heather shows no sign of infection, so their worst case scenario is cancer or an auto-immune disease. She has no insurance, so all of the medical expenses have been out-of-pocket for us. Fortunately, family has stepped up to help reduce the burden, but it has made her miss work and has impacted us financially.
This is not a cry for help or a request for financial aid, what it is, is me reaching out to you and saying a few things:
A) Hug your parents, your kids, your loved ones. Tell them you love them, it's worth it.
B) Put life into perspective. I work with an AIDS foundation in my spare time and have had many friends and family members impacted by cancer (I'm sure you have too). All of the little things and all of the anger and complaints about your life dwindle to nothing by comparison.
C) The financial and familial impact of this experience may make me short tempered and less tolerant. If I am, please forgive me.
D) These things will take first priority for me, that means other things take second and third place. My daughter comes first.
So, if I don't want your sympathy or your money, what do I want? Your prayers/invocations/good thoughts/secular humanist considerations for me and my family at this time, particularly my daughter Heather. My life has been one of miracles and I don't plan to run out of them now, but every little bit helps.
In other news, my daughter Katie is still in lock-up. She has court on August 13th and they are likely to send her home. The home in question may be mine and may be my ex-wife's home. The issue here is that Katie has not improved, she's gotten worse. DFACS is telling three different conflicting stories and the case workers I was dealing with have all resigned from the agency. So, where does that leave me? Back at square one. The courts have yet to punish Katie fully for her habitual violations of her probation. As a result, she has no more respect for the law than she did before, less in fact. She doesn't see them as a threat.
It's been a challenge. But, you know me, I'm invincible.
On the other hand, I have good friends and a good family. I never want for the love of good people. My life, as I say, is one of miracles and I am the luckiest son-of-a-bitch alive.
What's the point? I'm learning to share the burden, at least, I'm trying to.
Peace
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sometimes you need the words
This was said of me today, I needed it.
Good men make a girl feel safe, but Great men know when to pull them out of safe places.
Good men take care of things, but Great men know that you should take care of yourself.
Good men live day to day, Great men live in moments.
Good men climb, Great men jump.
Great men severely dislike bananas and root beer.
Good men watch, Great men play.
Good men overcome fear, Great men embrace it.
Good men make a girl feel safe, but Great men know when to pull them out of safe places.
Good men take care of things, but Great men know that you should take care of yourself.
Good men live day to day, Great men live in moments.
Good men climb, Great men jump.
Great men severely dislike bananas and root beer.
Good men watch, Great men play.
Good men overcome fear, Great men embrace it.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Naked Truth
Last year, around this time, I realized that there was something wrong with my relationship with Jen. The problem was me. I have no need to rehash everything, but after I was divorced, I got straight into another relationship. While Jen and I tried not to put labels on it, that's what it was and it was a wonderful time that was happy and blissful and did everything I wanted it to do except one thing -- let me do what I said I was doing: Work on me.
While I was going through my divorce, I tried to live my life with no expectations and to try and live in the moment. That was a self deception. Most people are trying to sell something, sometimes you're trying to sell it to yourself. After Jen, I drank, I caroused, I tried to find myself (again) in something outside myself.
Somewhere along the line I started doing things for other people. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't wholly selfless, nothing ever can be I suppose. People came into my life with great intensity and left with a whisper. That hurt, a lot. That's not living without expectations, that's holding on to hope that people who care about you will want to stay. What it doesn't take into consideration is that lost souls don't instantly get better when you find them and point out to them that they are lost. Look at me? I'm not a savior. I'm not a hero (or a villain for that matter). I'm just a guy who sees people hurting and I reach out and I say something. It seems to help. But sometimes people have to wander a while, sometimes they come back and sometimes they stay.
There was a moment, in my deepest, darkest despair, when I saw it all and figured it all out and then I set it aside. It's simple really:
• Be happy in this moment.
• Most people tell you to find yourself, but what they mean is find what they believe.
• You have to find your own truth.
• If your happiness is dependant on someone else you've just traded one cage for another.
• Every day is beautiful.
• Take care of yourself and your health.
• Follow your own path.
• Love everyone.
• Let go of the past.
• Don't rush the future.
• Have the strawberry ice-cream.
I have always said "Contra Mundum" was my motto. "Against the world." But that's not the fight a warrior fights -- "Contra Ego," is the real battle. "Against the Self." Are you strong enough to be happy? Can you look inside and find the self and live in honesty and honor with yourself and others, or are you just masking the pain with something you call happiness?
There are no "ordinary moments" only one series of beautiful nows.
We run from ourselves and the things we fear when we should embrace them, because the things we fear make us strong. Love the people that you love without fear or reservation, but love the self, without ego.
The Paradox of the Scorpion teaches us to love our fear, but it's only half the story. The other half is to follow your bliss, to never do anything half-way, live life to the hilt, whether you are filing briefs, writing code, sweeping floors or racking servers. And reach out to that fear and love it, because odds are that the thing you are running from is what you want most and that thing that's making you happy will taste like asshes when it's done.
But that's my truth. Find yours.
Burn with me.
While I was going through my divorce, I tried to live my life with no expectations and to try and live in the moment. That was a self deception. Most people are trying to sell something, sometimes you're trying to sell it to yourself. After Jen, I drank, I caroused, I tried to find myself (again) in something outside myself.
Somewhere along the line I started doing things for other people. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't wholly selfless, nothing ever can be I suppose. People came into my life with great intensity and left with a whisper. That hurt, a lot. That's not living without expectations, that's holding on to hope that people who care about you will want to stay. What it doesn't take into consideration is that lost souls don't instantly get better when you find them and point out to them that they are lost. Look at me? I'm not a savior. I'm not a hero (or a villain for that matter). I'm just a guy who sees people hurting and I reach out and I say something. It seems to help. But sometimes people have to wander a while, sometimes they come back and sometimes they stay.
There was a moment, in my deepest, darkest despair, when I saw it all and figured it all out and then I set it aside. It's simple really:
• Be happy in this moment.
• Most people tell you to find yourself, but what they mean is find what they believe.
• You have to find your own truth.
• If your happiness is dependant on someone else you've just traded one cage for another.
• Every day is beautiful.
• Take care of yourself and your health.
• Follow your own path.
• Love everyone.
• Let go of the past.
• Don't rush the future.
• Have the strawberry ice-cream.
I have always said "Contra Mundum" was my motto. "Against the world." But that's not the fight a warrior fights -- "Contra Ego," is the real battle. "Against the Self." Are you strong enough to be happy? Can you look inside and find the self and live in honesty and honor with yourself and others, or are you just masking the pain with something you call happiness?
There are no "ordinary moments" only one series of beautiful nows.
We run from ourselves and the things we fear when we should embrace them, because the things we fear make us strong. Love the people that you love without fear or reservation, but love the self, without ego.
The Paradox of the Scorpion teaches us to love our fear, but it's only half the story. The other half is to follow your bliss, to never do anything half-way, live life to the hilt, whether you are filing briefs, writing code, sweeping floors or racking servers. And reach out to that fear and love it, because odds are that the thing you are running from is what you want most and that thing that's making you happy will taste like asshes when it's done.
But that's my truth. Find yours.
Burn with me.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Kavanagh's Wolf
"I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter.
We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.
For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves."
~There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves, James Kavanagh
We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.
For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves."
~There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves, James Kavanagh
Saturday, June 6, 2009
“It is defeat that turns bone to flint; it is defeat that turns gristle to muscle; "
"It is defeat that men makes invincible” - Henry Ward Beecher
This has been a bad month. It's a pattern when people enter your life, find what they were looking for and cast you aside with casual cruelty. Once upon a time that wouldn't have bothered me. I would have smiled and laughed, knowing, with certainty, that it was their loss.
Today I spent 40 minutes being verbally abused by my daughter while a therapist allowed it to happen and prevented me from responding. Now I begin to see why after 6 months in lock-up that my daughter is no better.
I am a catalyst. I change people's lives for the better. I used to enjoy it and then it hurt, now it's nothing. If it's what I do, then it's like rain and sun and snow, a part of nature beyond our control. Come or go, stand or run. I was -- I am as patient as a mountain. I am inevitable, invincible and unstoppable.
Somewhere along the line I let all this wear me down and wear me out. I didn't get to be invincible by caring what people thought or by shedding tears. I got that way by taking every blow on the chin and smiling and begging for more.
Gimme your best shot.
This has been a bad month. It's a pattern when people enter your life, find what they were looking for and cast you aside with casual cruelty. Once upon a time that wouldn't have bothered me. I would have smiled and laughed, knowing, with certainty, that it was their loss.
Today I spent 40 minutes being verbally abused by my daughter while a therapist allowed it to happen and prevented me from responding. Now I begin to see why after 6 months in lock-up that my daughter is no better.
I am a catalyst. I change people's lives for the better. I used to enjoy it and then it hurt, now it's nothing. If it's what I do, then it's like rain and sun and snow, a part of nature beyond our control. Come or go, stand or run. I was -- I am as patient as a mountain. I am inevitable, invincible and unstoppable.
Somewhere along the line I let all this wear me down and wear me out. I didn't get to be invincible by caring what people thought or by shedding tears. I got that way by taking every blow on the chin and smiling and begging for more.
Gimme your best shot.
Monday, June 1, 2009
This is how we begin
Closing time at the confessional
I close the doors
I'm headed home
One more sin
To nail upon the broken cross
This is how we begin
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
I've fallen on my sword for you
A dozen times before
I wouldn't change a thing
I would do it again
To see you smile for an hour or two
This is how we begin
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
Leonard Cohen will sing the hymns
And I'll listen in silence
You miss the me
That you wanted me to be
Your confessor for always
This is how we begin
This is how we begin
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
This is how we begin
This is how we begin
I close the doors
I'm headed home
One more sin
To nail upon the broken cross
This is how we begin
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
I've fallen on my sword for you
A dozen times before
I wouldn't change a thing
I would do it again
To see you smile for an hour or two
This is how we begin
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
Leonard Cohen will sing the hymns
And I'll listen in silence
You miss the me
That you wanted me to be
Your confessor for always
This is how we begin
This is how we begin
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
No one knows the confessor
No recognizes him
You leave your stories
and your worries
And head home again
This is how we begin
This is how we begin
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Immortal Memory
The muse pulled this out of me today. It doesn't have a melody yet, but a Sarah McLachlanesque vibe was going on in my head.
When push came to shove you made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
I gave you all of me
But it was never enough for you to see
I would have given you everything if you'd only said the word
That you chose something unworthy was absurd
And now you've made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
It's everyone else that has to make choices you say
But you're a slave to your nature, it's just your way
All I asked was honesty, but it was all a pack of lies
Now you can carry the truth to bed with you when the evening dies
Yes, now you've made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
And now you've made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
When push came to shove you made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
I gave you all of me
But it was never enough for you to see
I would have given you everything if you'd only said the word
That you chose something unworthy was absurd
And now you've made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
It's everyone else that has to make choices you say
But you're a slave to your nature, it's just your way
All I asked was honesty, but it was all a pack of lies
Now you can carry the truth to bed with you when the evening dies
Yes, now you've made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
And now you've made your choice
How will you measure the cost?
You will be a memory
And I remain immortal
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Under the Moonlight
Writers write. That's what they tell me. Since meeting facebook I have had less to say here. I used to blog five things a day. It was like a gym for my brain. So, in the spirit of the diarist that I am, today I write, living in hope that I will write again tomorrow and let the words flow from me to you.
For months now I have struggled with something. I have alluded to it, I have skirted it and I have denied it. I have made bold proclamations and secret whispers and woven it into stories. Since I broke up with Jen and took my dating vacation, things became surreal to me. People keep coming into my life and things change dramatically for them. The deeper my investment and the more dramatic the change, the quicker they disappear.
These are the raw facts. This is real and this is to the bone: it's a lonely rollercoaster that makes me question my worth.
"Why was I so easy to cast aside?"
"Am I too much or too little?"
"Am I really just a bad man pretending to be a good one?"
"If I stopped caring, would anyone notice?"
My life, while amazing, has always been on someone else's conditions, never on my own. I choose to be with others, but on their terms, because... what? People that compromise for me aren't the kind of people that interest me? Because I love a challenge, even in friendship? I don't know the answer.
Before anyone starts shedding tears, I'm coming to terms with this. All of my life I have feared being alone, it's really my only fear. I embraced my loneliness and came to love it -- the solitude that it offers, whether I take advantage of it or not.
My friend Angela put it like this: "When the loneliness becomes a sort of companion on its own... you see how cowboys get their reputations."
My loneliness is my companion now, she never leaves me, when she does, and I may not want her to go.
I'm a happy man. I have my shit together. I'm confident and far too proud for my own good. That's why this puzzle baffles me. Is it a curse? A blessing? Did I ask for this? Is this a lesson I am suppose to learn?
I wanted to be like my Papaw, Roy, and impact lives. Now I am, at an alarming rate, and I don't know what to do with the consequences. There are no answers for why, when I've given everything I have, the recipients just casually walk away. Once I could understand, but I'm up to about 10 men and women in four months and that's not something I can mark up to coincidence, even if I believed in coincidence.
In any case, today is a beautiful and amazing day. I'm on fire and all is right with the world because I have my word, because all the words I've ever said mean something. Once given I can't take them back, so I keep my oaths.
Finally, someone reading this, someone who means the world to me, wrote this about me and it helped, because I may, indeed, have chosen this path. I may be a lone wolf after all.
"Lone wolf
Straight out of a comic book
You don't know how long it took
To get along, to stay strong
Under the Moonlight"
Burn with me
For months now I have struggled with something. I have alluded to it, I have skirted it and I have denied it. I have made bold proclamations and secret whispers and woven it into stories. Since I broke up with Jen and took my dating vacation, things became surreal to me. People keep coming into my life and things change dramatically for them. The deeper my investment and the more dramatic the change, the quicker they disappear.
These are the raw facts. This is real and this is to the bone: it's a lonely rollercoaster that makes me question my worth.
"Why was I so easy to cast aside?"
"Am I too much or too little?"
"Am I really just a bad man pretending to be a good one?"
"If I stopped caring, would anyone notice?"
My life, while amazing, has always been on someone else's conditions, never on my own. I choose to be with others, but on their terms, because... what? People that compromise for me aren't the kind of people that interest me? Because I love a challenge, even in friendship? I don't know the answer.
Before anyone starts shedding tears, I'm coming to terms with this. All of my life I have feared being alone, it's really my only fear. I embraced my loneliness and came to love it -- the solitude that it offers, whether I take advantage of it or not.
My friend Angela put it like this: "When the loneliness becomes a sort of companion on its own... you see how cowboys get their reputations."
My loneliness is my companion now, she never leaves me, when she does, and I may not want her to go.
I'm a happy man. I have my shit together. I'm confident and far too proud for my own good. That's why this puzzle baffles me. Is it a curse? A blessing? Did I ask for this? Is this a lesson I am suppose to learn?
I wanted to be like my Papaw, Roy, and impact lives. Now I am, at an alarming rate, and I don't know what to do with the consequences. There are no answers for why, when I've given everything I have, the recipients just casually walk away. Once I could understand, but I'm up to about 10 men and women in four months and that's not something I can mark up to coincidence, even if I believed in coincidence.
In any case, today is a beautiful and amazing day. I'm on fire and all is right with the world because I have my word, because all the words I've ever said mean something. Once given I can't take them back, so I keep my oaths.
Finally, someone reading this, someone who means the world to me, wrote this about me and it helped, because I may, indeed, have chosen this path. I may be a lone wolf after all.
"Lone wolf
Straight out of a comic book
You don't know how long it took
To get along, to stay strong
Under the Moonlight"
Burn with me
Thursday, May 7, 2009
From the heart
Remember when you were a kid and your friend would have a birthday and you had spent your allowance on some bubblegum? What did your parents say? "Make them something from the heart."
This birthday, I have gotten a home-made pie (the first pie ever made by it's creator), a drawing made just for me, a poem, a beautiful hand sculpted dragon and a lot of kind and beautiful words.
Mom was right, the things that come from the heart matter the most. And it beats the hell out of anything on my Amazon wish list :)
This birthday, I have gotten a home-made pie (the first pie ever made by it's creator), a drawing made just for me, a poem, a beautiful hand sculpted dragon and a lot of kind and beautiful words.
Mom was right, the things that come from the heart matter the most. And it beats the hell out of anything on my Amazon wish list :)
It gets under your skin
Today I am 44 years old. I am neither old, nor young, but, instead, the perfect age for a man. I have accumulated wisdom and remain youthful enough to enjoy it. I know the words that will unlock a woman's heart, the means to turn tears to laughter, how to listen for heartache, and how to speak into silence without the stir of an echo.
I have begat children, loved women, fought men, and ridden great horses. These are the things of which a wonderful life is composed. My words have reached millions, I have written songs and sonnets. I have brought smiles and laughter. I would say it has been a complete life, but it has only just begun.
If the quality of a life is measured by those who love him and seek out his company (and surely it must be), then the value of this short season of my immortal existence is immeasurable. My friends are countless stars in my heaven.
Life, it gets under your skin, metaphorically speaking. You take one breath and have to have another.
I have begat children, loved women, fought men, and ridden great horses. These are the things of which a wonderful life is composed. My words have reached millions, I have written songs and sonnets. I have brought smiles and laughter. I would say it has been a complete life, but it has only just begun.
If the quality of a life is measured by those who love him and seek out his company (and surely it must be), then the value of this short season of my immortal existence is immeasurable. My friends are countless stars in my heaven.
Life, it gets under your skin, metaphorically speaking. You take one breath and have to have another.
Monday, May 4, 2009
All I dream is you
It doesn't have a melody yet, "You belong to me" was going through my head as I wrote it.
I've known you for a million years
Felt you in my heart
Wiped away your tears
Just remember, Angel
When I close my eyes
All I dream is you
Walk at night with you
Beneath the cloudless skies
Holding your hand
As the evening dies
When we lie together
And I close my eyes
All I dream is you
I just want my arms around you
To feel your breath on my skin
I weave stories
Beneath cloudless skies
Craft you poems
As the evening dies
When I lie at night
And I close my eyes
All I dream is you
I just want my arms around you
To feel your breath on my skin
I weave stories
Beneath cloudless skies
Craft you poems
As the evening dies
When I lie at night
And I close my eyes
All I dream is you
I've known you for a million years
Felt you in my heart
Wiped away your tears
Just remember, Angel
When I close my eyes
All I dream is you
Walk at night with you
Beneath the cloudless skies
Holding your hand
As the evening dies
When we lie together
And I close my eyes
All I dream is you
I just want my arms around you
To feel your breath on my skin
I weave stories
Beneath cloudless skies
Craft you poems
As the evening dies
When I lie at night
And I close my eyes
All I dream is you
I just want my arms around you
To feel your breath on my skin
I weave stories
Beneath cloudless skies
Craft you poems
As the evening dies
When I lie at night
And I close my eyes
All I dream is you
Hallelujah
Watchmen - Hallelujah
Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Sunday, May 3, 2009
“Because we focused on the snake, we missed the scorpion” - Egyptian Proverb
Scorpions are arachnids, close relatives of ticks, mites and spiders.Some species may live for 20 to 25 years. Adult scorpions may have several broods of young. Following an elaborate mating process, which lasts from 24 to 36 hours. Upon birth, Scorpions leave their mother.
Scorpions are solitary hunters.
The parable of the Scorpion
A scorpion was walking along the bank of a river, wondering how to get to the other side. Suddenly, he saw a fox. He asked the fox to take him on his back across the river.
The fox said, "No. If I do that, you'll sting me, and I'll drown."
The scorpion assured him, "If I do that, we'll both drown."
The fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back, and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him. As poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said, "Why did you do that? Now you'll drown, too."
"I couldn't help it," said the scorpion. "It's my nature."
The Paradox of the Scorpion
A man was buried to his neck and left to die as a means of torture. The scorpion came to him and the man asked the scorpion how he would keep from going mad.
The scorpion said "Love your pain and cherish it and it will leave."
And then man said "If I love my pain, I won't want it to leave."
The Scorpion said "Now you understand pain."
This weekend I spent a lot of time talking about attachments and expectations. Expectations, I understand better, because they are grounded in the future. I have spent a lot of my life living in the future: I wish I was older. I wish I was 16 so I could drive a car. I wish I was 18 so high-school would be over. I've wished a lot of my birthdays away. Thursday I will be 44 years old, I don't wish away my birthdays anymore.
44 is a good age. According to Ernest Moody, I now know everything I will ever need to know. I don't always feel like that's true. Expectations have to live in the future, but I have to live in the present.
Attachments are a bit different. I bond with people. I call it the "Tin-Man Syndrome." In L. Frank Baum's "Wizard of Oz," the Tin-Man had no heart. As a result, he did not know if he was good or evil, so he would always err on the side of kindness, as he did not want to do harm by accident. Consequently, he was the kindest character because of this.
I become invested in people, I bond with them, because if I don't, I am apathetic towards them. I've been accused of being apathetic toward people, toward their feeling. I don't know if that's true, but I can be cold.
Not having attachments is a concept I have trouble getting my head around. The way it is presented to me is that without attachments, when the inevitable parting comes, whether it be through death or by choice, the pain associated is survivable. I've survived loss all my life, does that mean that I've had no attachments? Is my freedom free floating? Can I have freedom from attachments and still be invested in them?
I was raised by a grandmother that used the word "love" very freely. As a result I am not afraid of that word. My grandmother didn't love baseball, or chocolate, she liked them. She loved people. She was very specific about that. She taught me that the first and last thing you should say to people is that you love them. The last words I said to her before she died was "I love you."
I don't regret saying "I love you" to her that day or anyone else I've said it to since. Even the ones that didn't know what to do with those words. Love means a lot of things. I love a lot of people. I've only "in love" a few times. Is that the definition of an attachment? Do I have to be "in love?" Do I want to live a life without attachments? It seems very lonely.
Someone who is very precious to me has given me a piece of wisdom that is now a part of my lexicon. I steal things from people. Eventually, I'm sure, I will claim this as my own as though it spawned from my forehead like Athena from Zeus. The wisdom is "Start as you mean to go." It's a very old-fashioned, quite British expression, that means acting and sounding as if it were already a success. You've already won, but you still have to play the game.
Do I know what the future looks like? No. Do I have expectations? No more-so than many people, less that most. I live only today, I don't really have a choice in the matter. This is the life I have, this is the life we all have. But I know what I'd like the future to look like. Sometimes the faces change, most of the time they don't.
I have, for the majority of my life, been in pursuit of a dream. When I tell people about it, I'm amazed at how many people don't think I'm crazy. All the ones who really matter tell me I'm not crazy, that I should follow that dream.
So, I start as I mean to go, with a plan, following a dream, into a future with no expectations, with no attachments, while trying to remain invested in people. If it sounds like like a juggling act, it is. If it sounds impossible, you need to understand that it's not. Because anything worth having is worth fighting for. Anything worth believing in, is worth dying for. I suppose that's what is all means, what it means to all of us. We live it. That's the secret to life.
Right now, the Princess, is nodding and smiling and thinking that I just wasted a lot of words on something simple. Just live.
Right now, the Actress is nodding and smiling and thinking that I'm right.
They're both right.
So are you.
Scorpions are solitary hunters.
The parable of the Scorpion
A scorpion was walking along the bank of a river, wondering how to get to the other side. Suddenly, he saw a fox. He asked the fox to take him on his back across the river.
The fox said, "No. If I do that, you'll sting me, and I'll drown."
The scorpion assured him, "If I do that, we'll both drown."
The fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back, and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him. As poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said, "Why did you do that? Now you'll drown, too."
"I couldn't help it," said the scorpion. "It's my nature."
The Paradox of the Scorpion
A man was buried to his neck and left to die as a means of torture. The scorpion came to him and the man asked the scorpion how he would keep from going mad.
The scorpion said "Love your pain and cherish it and it will leave."
And then man said "If I love my pain, I won't want it to leave."
The Scorpion said "Now you understand pain."
This weekend I spent a lot of time talking about attachments and expectations. Expectations, I understand better, because they are grounded in the future. I have spent a lot of my life living in the future: I wish I was older. I wish I was 16 so I could drive a car. I wish I was 18 so high-school would be over. I've wished a lot of my birthdays away. Thursday I will be 44 years old, I don't wish away my birthdays anymore.
44 is a good age. According to Ernest Moody, I now know everything I will ever need to know. I don't always feel like that's true. Expectations have to live in the future, but I have to live in the present.
Attachments are a bit different. I bond with people. I call it the "Tin-Man Syndrome." In L. Frank Baum's "Wizard of Oz," the Tin-Man had no heart. As a result, he did not know if he was good or evil, so he would always err on the side of kindness, as he did not want to do harm by accident. Consequently, he was the kindest character because of this.
I become invested in people, I bond with them, because if I don't, I am apathetic towards them. I've been accused of being apathetic toward people, toward their feeling. I don't know if that's true, but I can be cold.
Not having attachments is a concept I have trouble getting my head around. The way it is presented to me is that without attachments, when the inevitable parting comes, whether it be through death or by choice, the pain associated is survivable. I've survived loss all my life, does that mean that I've had no attachments? Is my freedom free floating? Can I have freedom from attachments and still be invested in them?
I was raised by a grandmother that used the word "love" very freely. As a result I am not afraid of that word. My grandmother didn't love baseball, or chocolate, she liked them. She loved people. She was very specific about that. She taught me that the first and last thing you should say to people is that you love them. The last words I said to her before she died was "I love you."
I don't regret saying "I love you" to her that day or anyone else I've said it to since. Even the ones that didn't know what to do with those words. Love means a lot of things. I love a lot of people. I've only "in love" a few times. Is that the definition of an attachment? Do I have to be "in love?" Do I want to live a life without attachments? It seems very lonely.
Someone who is very precious to me has given me a piece of wisdom that is now a part of my lexicon. I steal things from people. Eventually, I'm sure, I will claim this as my own as though it spawned from my forehead like Athena from Zeus. The wisdom is "Start as you mean to go." It's a very old-fashioned, quite British expression, that means acting and sounding as if it were already a success. You've already won, but you still have to play the game.
Do I know what the future looks like? No. Do I have expectations? No more-so than many people, less that most. I live only today, I don't really have a choice in the matter. This is the life I have, this is the life we all have. But I know what I'd like the future to look like. Sometimes the faces change, most of the time they don't.
I have, for the majority of my life, been in pursuit of a dream. When I tell people about it, I'm amazed at how many people don't think I'm crazy. All the ones who really matter tell me I'm not crazy, that I should follow that dream.
So, I start as I mean to go, with a plan, following a dream, into a future with no expectations, with no attachments, while trying to remain invested in people. If it sounds like like a juggling act, it is. If it sounds impossible, you need to understand that it's not. Because anything worth having is worth fighting for. Anything worth believing in, is worth dying for. I suppose that's what is all means, what it means to all of us. We live it. That's the secret to life.
Right now, the Princess, is nodding and smiling and thinking that I just wasted a lot of words on something simple. Just live.
Right now, the Actress is nodding and smiling and thinking that I'm right.
They're both right.
So are you.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Lonely miracles in the midst of madness
If I believed in blessings, I'd say I'm blessed. I am a lucky man, I get everything I need and most things I want. I spend my days at a job I love and nights meeting amazing people and helping them to get where they are going. It's been an amazing four or five months.
A few weeks ago I went to Greenville to do a walkabout. The weather was shit and I sat down in a coffee house and was approached by a woman. Her name was Carol. Carol wanted sex, plain and simple, at least, that's the ways she sold it.
We talked for six hours, about her kids, her divorce, and why she was so soul crushingly unhappy. The universe puts everyone in your path for a reason. Now I know why it rained. Carol told me about this younger man that was smitten with her, a brilliant writer and poet, a young man who was profoundly lost. The young man planned to walk the Appalachian trail, all 2100 miles of it alone. She pushed him away. I told her of all the amazing things that have happened to me recently, of all the miracle people that I meet. I explained the way I see the universe and I gave her the copy of the "Tao of Pooh" that I had brought with me. The next day she sent me a text message telling me she had gone and played in the park, on the swings, that she had called her ex-husband and got closure. Last night, she sent me this:
A Walk in the Woods
Vimes:
Its about 10pm on Tuesday the 14th. I went to Georgia today near Springer Mountain and said goodbye to someone I will never forget. He stayed with me from Friday the 10th until today when he left to hike the Appalachian Trail.
Remember how clear a "fix" you had on me during our meeting and subsequent chat. I understand that now. Its where you are versus where I am. It was like that with Herb. He is 29 and so intelligent, kind, sensual and loving. Over the course of the last several days we talked a lot. He told me more about himself and his family but I already knew most of what he was going to tell me. He wore his heart on his sleeve as much as I do. He needed me. I knew he didn't though and I also knew some basic things he would have to discover going forward. I realized that it defeats the purpose to tell him what those things are. It's most important that he discover that himself. That everyone does.
This hike he is attempting has nothing to do with 2,100 miles from Georgia to Maine. It's about proving something to himself. It's about facing fears. It's about living with yourself and being able to love yourself. It's about connecting with other people and being vulnerable. It might be about learning to ask for help. It might be about providing that help to someone else. Ultimately, it has the potential to show him everything he may ever need to know about life.
I dropped him off at the approach trail around 2pm today with a book on the Tao and a hug,a promise to keep in touch and to let me know how he is progressing. I have some of the answers to the life questions he has and I failed to provide them. You have to live them to learn them, but there is no law that says we can't have a trail guide by our side during our hike is there?
Love ya
Carol
It's dominoes. One life changed, changes the next. Back in December, I was the lowest I had ever been. Consistently, there was a person that was there for me, talked to me every day, kicked my ass when I needed it, talked to me every time I left court with Katie. She never flinched or turned aside. You gave everything. She was the first domino. Newton said "If I have seen farther than other men it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants."
She's precious to me and she's a giant. She saved my life so I could save others. I came to understand that.
So many stories is such a short period of time. The Actress, the Living-Dead Girl, the Model, the Rockstar, the Prom Queen, the Savior, the Soldier Boy, the Student, the Redhead, the Cougar, the Princess, the Little Prince. Each of them has come into my life, some have stayed. Open honesty, love and friendship.
In the past week I have been called a Prophet, a Sage, a Hero. I was told I should write a book and that they should make a movie about me. A song written about me is ready to be recorded, all because I stopped in the road to talk and someone cared enough to reach out to me selflessly with love.
And this is just the beginning. Today (as my father says) is not forever. What will forever look like?
Some days it's lonely. Sometimes it drives me a little mad. I thought I had destroyed someone's life, I wrote the Actress. I asked her if I was doing the right thing, and she sent me a letter.
Tell me a story
Vimes, you don't need me to tell you that you did good by me, or by anyone else. You know you did. You know you're a good man. I know it must be frustrating (to put it ridiculously mildly), and often hopeless to encounter person after person, helping them on their way and watching them leave.
Why do you care? Because it feels REALLY GOOD. Being jaded does not. Being distrustful is not enjoyable. Refraining from continuing the search is obviously counter-productive. And while it always comes when you least expect it, from around the bend that you could not have anticipated...
You are the hero because you follow your bliss and your bliss is seeing someone comforted, protected, and free to find theirs.
If you're tired, rest.
You know I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I heard you're the luckiest guy. Remember that at certain points, you and I get to look back on everything, and we see - that period of darkness was essential to my experience which created today, the today I am so grateful for. That hardship, that challenge, that person who I could not understand why I had to bear the burden of, or lose the joy of... all of it was absolutely essential. You have done that. You'll do it again.
Every day what you said to me rings in my ears - don't take the easy road. Well, I really haven't. It's a very difficult road. One that requires that I take care of myself, so that I can take care of my man, so that maybe he can take care of me. But taking care of him is proving an immense challenge, that often tries to contradict my own needs. His health is terrible, his finances are in a shambles, his house is in dire need of intense work. And we have our sordid past together to unravel, which keeps exposing old wounds.
We have known each other for five weeks and for twenty-two years. It's incredibly odd, and wondrously amazing. There's no courtship, yet it's an endless courtship. We've learned the very very hard way not to take each other for granted, not to take ourselves for granted, not to subjugate ourselves out of fear the other person might run - but rather to state expectation, boundaries, intentions, and simply be optimistic that the other will be up for the task of loving us. That's the best that can be done.
Life without optimism, to me, is death. But of course, I'm a very lucky girl. My optimism nearly always pays off. And as of today, it has in a really big way. I know -- You know -- You are a very lucky guy.
You will always be a part of me, you will always be my hero.
The last words I said to her before I put her on the plane were those words "don't take the easy road." They echo in my ears. All my life I have had one fear, just one being alone. It's the Scorpion Paradox:
A man was buried to his neck and left to die as a means of torture
The scorpion came to him and the man asked the scorpion how he would keep from going mad
The scorpion said "Love your pain and cherish it and it will leave."
And then man said "If I love my pain, I won't want it to leave."
The Scorpion said "Now you understand pain."
I embraced my loneliness and now I don't want it to leave.
The Savior said this to me the other night: "When the loneliness becomes a sort of companion on its own... you see how cowboys get their reputations. You're a Cowboy."
Last night I spoke to someone I love very much. We said hello and goodbye, because we will always be a part of each other. It was good, it was right, and I will be immortal because of her, because she loves that much. 3000 miles can't separate me from her and what she means to me.
So... I know, it was too long to read, but I wrote it for you, all of you, some of you, all of us.
The book will be longer, the Savior says it should be called "Prophet and Loss."
The question remains, are you a chapter, a recurring character, or would you like to help me write the book of my life?
Thank you.
Burn with me.
A few weeks ago I went to Greenville to do a walkabout. The weather was shit and I sat down in a coffee house and was approached by a woman. Her name was Carol. Carol wanted sex, plain and simple, at least, that's the ways she sold it.
We talked for six hours, about her kids, her divorce, and why she was so soul crushingly unhappy. The universe puts everyone in your path for a reason. Now I know why it rained. Carol told me about this younger man that was smitten with her, a brilliant writer and poet, a young man who was profoundly lost. The young man planned to walk the Appalachian trail, all 2100 miles of it alone. She pushed him away. I told her of all the amazing things that have happened to me recently, of all the miracle people that I meet. I explained the way I see the universe and I gave her the copy of the "Tao of Pooh" that I had brought with me. The next day she sent me a text message telling me she had gone and played in the park, on the swings, that she had called her ex-husband and got closure. Last night, she sent me this:
A Walk in the Woods
Vimes:
Its about 10pm on Tuesday the 14th. I went to Georgia today near Springer Mountain and said goodbye to someone I will never forget. He stayed with me from Friday the 10th until today when he left to hike the Appalachian Trail.
Remember how clear a "fix" you had on me during our meeting and subsequent chat. I understand that now. Its where you are versus where I am. It was like that with Herb. He is 29 and so intelligent, kind, sensual and loving. Over the course of the last several days we talked a lot. He told me more about himself and his family but I already knew most of what he was going to tell me. He wore his heart on his sleeve as much as I do. He needed me. I knew he didn't though and I also knew some basic things he would have to discover going forward. I realized that it defeats the purpose to tell him what those things are. It's most important that he discover that himself. That everyone does.
This hike he is attempting has nothing to do with 2,100 miles from Georgia to Maine. It's about proving something to himself. It's about facing fears. It's about living with yourself and being able to love yourself. It's about connecting with other people and being vulnerable. It might be about learning to ask for help. It might be about providing that help to someone else. Ultimately, it has the potential to show him everything he may ever need to know about life.
I dropped him off at the approach trail around 2pm today with a book on the Tao and a hug,a promise to keep in touch and to let me know how he is progressing. I have some of the answers to the life questions he has and I failed to provide them. You have to live them to learn them, but there is no law that says we can't have a trail guide by our side during our hike is there?
Love ya
Carol
It's dominoes. One life changed, changes the next. Back in December, I was the lowest I had ever been. Consistently, there was a person that was there for me, talked to me every day, kicked my ass when I needed it, talked to me every time I left court with Katie. She never flinched or turned aside. You gave everything. She was the first domino. Newton said "If I have seen farther than other men it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants."
She's precious to me and she's a giant. She saved my life so I could save others. I came to understand that.
So many stories is such a short period of time. The Actress, the Living-Dead Girl, the Model, the Rockstar, the Prom Queen, the Savior, the Soldier Boy, the Student, the Redhead, the Cougar, the Princess, the Little Prince. Each of them has come into my life, some have stayed. Open honesty, love and friendship.
In the past week I have been called a Prophet, a Sage, a Hero. I was told I should write a book and that they should make a movie about me. A song written about me is ready to be recorded, all because I stopped in the road to talk and someone cared enough to reach out to me selflessly with love.
And this is just the beginning. Today (as my father says) is not forever. What will forever look like?
Some days it's lonely. Sometimes it drives me a little mad. I thought I had destroyed someone's life, I wrote the Actress. I asked her if I was doing the right thing, and she sent me a letter.
Tell me a story
Vimes, you don't need me to tell you that you did good by me, or by anyone else. You know you did. You know you're a good man. I know it must be frustrating (to put it ridiculously mildly), and often hopeless to encounter person after person, helping them on their way and watching them leave.
Why do you care? Because it feels REALLY GOOD. Being jaded does not. Being distrustful is not enjoyable. Refraining from continuing the search is obviously counter-productive. And while it always comes when you least expect it, from around the bend that you could not have anticipated...
You are the hero because you follow your bliss and your bliss is seeing someone comforted, protected, and free to find theirs.
If you're tired, rest.
You know I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I heard you're the luckiest guy. Remember that at certain points, you and I get to look back on everything, and we see - that period of darkness was essential to my experience which created today, the today I am so grateful for. That hardship, that challenge, that person who I could not understand why I had to bear the burden of, or lose the joy of... all of it was absolutely essential. You have done that. You'll do it again.
Every day what you said to me rings in my ears - don't take the easy road. Well, I really haven't. It's a very difficult road. One that requires that I take care of myself, so that I can take care of my man, so that maybe he can take care of me. But taking care of him is proving an immense challenge, that often tries to contradict my own needs. His health is terrible, his finances are in a shambles, his house is in dire need of intense work. And we have our sordid past together to unravel, which keeps exposing old wounds.
We have known each other for five weeks and for twenty-two years. It's incredibly odd, and wondrously amazing. There's no courtship, yet it's an endless courtship. We've learned the very very hard way not to take each other for granted, not to take ourselves for granted, not to subjugate ourselves out of fear the other person might run - but rather to state expectation, boundaries, intentions, and simply be optimistic that the other will be up for the task of loving us. That's the best that can be done.
Life without optimism, to me, is death. But of course, I'm a very lucky girl. My optimism nearly always pays off. And as of today, it has in a really big way. I know -- You know -- You are a very lucky guy.
You will always be a part of me, you will always be my hero.
The last words I said to her before I put her on the plane were those words "don't take the easy road." They echo in my ears. All my life I have had one fear, just one being alone. It's the Scorpion Paradox:
A man was buried to his neck and left to die as a means of torture
The scorpion came to him and the man asked the scorpion how he would keep from going mad
The scorpion said "Love your pain and cherish it and it will leave."
And then man said "If I love my pain, I won't want it to leave."
The Scorpion said "Now you understand pain."
I embraced my loneliness and now I don't want it to leave.
The Savior said this to me the other night: "When the loneliness becomes a sort of companion on its own... you see how cowboys get their reputations. You're a Cowboy."
Last night I spoke to someone I love very much. We said hello and goodbye, because we will always be a part of each other. It was good, it was right, and I will be immortal because of her, because she loves that much. 3000 miles can't separate me from her and what she means to me.
So... I know, it was too long to read, but I wrote it for you, all of you, some of you, all of us.
The book will be longer, the Savior says it should be called "Prophet and Loss."
The question remains, are you a chapter, a recurring character, or would you like to help me write the book of my life?
Thank you.
Burn with me.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
You who are on the road, must have a code that you can live by...
And so become yourself, because the past is just a good bye. -- "Teach your children well" (Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young)
Today has been a day for difficult questions and easy answers.
This seems to be the question of the day:
Would you rather just be another chapter in the book of my life, or would you rather write it with me?
Today has been a day for difficult questions and easy answers.
This seems to be the question of the day:
Would you rather just be another chapter in the book of my life, or would you rather write it with me?
Monday, April 13, 2009
Reciprocity and the nature of giving
Hands grasp, but also give.
Mouth tastes, but also speaks.
Nose breathes, but also smells.
Eyes see, but also show.
Ears hear, but also balance.
The hands teach us not to be selfish.
The mouth teaches us to give thanks in word and song.
The nose teaches us to learn from our environment.
The eyes teach us to show compassion and sincerity.
All parts of ourselves both give and receive. They function on a principle of reciprocity inherent in their very character. If our senses are so noble, shouldn't we be as well?
The Tao is the way and the way is the path that carries us. You can call it whatever you want, but it's the journey. The question is, is the journey leading you into a circle. Do you follow the same old patterns over and over again wondering when you can get off the ride? I know I do.
Patience. I have said a million times that I am as patient as a mountain, and I am, when it comes to waiting on what I want. When it comes to waiting at the hospital for a child to be born or a sick person to be well, it kills me. I need to know that everything will be ok with people I care about. It's torture, literally. It's also ridiculously selfish.
Reciprocity. Those around me give so much and ask so little, are we selfishly impatient when it comes to their needs? I think sometimes we are.
I know I am.
Mouth tastes, but also speaks.
Nose breathes, but also smells.
Eyes see, but also show.
Ears hear, but also balance.
The hands teach us not to be selfish.
The mouth teaches us to give thanks in word and song.
The nose teaches us to learn from our environment.
The eyes teach us to show compassion and sincerity.
All parts of ourselves both give and receive. They function on a principle of reciprocity inherent in their very character. If our senses are so noble, shouldn't we be as well?
The Tao is the way and the way is the path that carries us. You can call it whatever you want, but it's the journey. The question is, is the journey leading you into a circle. Do you follow the same old patterns over and over again wondering when you can get off the ride? I know I do.
Patience. I have said a million times that I am as patient as a mountain, and I am, when it comes to waiting on what I want. When it comes to waiting at the hospital for a child to be born or a sick person to be well, it kills me. I need to know that everything will be ok with people I care about. It's torture, literally. It's also ridiculously selfish.
Reciprocity. Those around me give so much and ask so little, are we selfishly impatient when it comes to their needs? I think sometimes we are.
I know I am.
In the cage my life began; Well I know the worth of Man. By the Broken Lock that freed —
Man-cub, 'ware the Man-cub's breed! - The Second Jungle Book (Rudyard Kipling)
I was called a sage and a prophet this weekend. I'm not sure how I feel about that. On any given day, I have no more idea of what I am doing than anyone else. I just know what the truth is when I see it.
Cages. We're monkeys, we run towards the cage and away from the thing we fear the most, when who and what we fear the most is usually the right answer. If you burst into tears and shake your head when someone says that you are their Hero, maybe you should take a moment and accept that mantle. If someone tells you that you are strong and you feel weak, maybe you should accept that mantle. If someone tells you they saved your life, maybe you're a Lifesaver.
Life is not easy for any of us. We have places of comfort that deaden us to the path we should walk. Drugs, drink, work, other people. You have to remember why you chose to walk that road in the first place. Was it to trade one cage for another or to find something new?
The hardest thing any of us can do, in the path of self discovery, is look at what we think is wisdom, think deeply about how we got here, and make the hard choice -- every time.
No, I'm not talking about you, or maybe I am. The Universe will not tolerate you being less than you can be. If will strip you bare and throw you in the street if it has to to get your attention. I've seen it, time after time.
I used to say I fight the world -- you can't fight the world, only yourself. It's the Paradox of the Scorpion:
A man was buried to his neck and left to die as a means of torture
The scorpion came to him and the man asked the scorpion how he would keep from going mad
The scorpion said "Love your pain and cherish it and it will leave."
And then man said "If I love my pain, I won't want it to leave."
The Scorpion said "Now you understand pain."
Until you look for the thing you fear most, and embrace it, it will never leave, and when it leaves, you won't want it to.
I feared being alone and now... well, that story is never finished.
We who walk a road on fire, must make choices, hard choices every day: abandon the comfortable lie and embrace the difficult truth, or climb in a cage of our own design.
Might as well, we built it.
Break your chains and burn with me.
I was called a sage and a prophet this weekend. I'm not sure how I feel about that. On any given day, I have no more idea of what I am doing than anyone else. I just know what the truth is when I see it.
Cages. We're monkeys, we run towards the cage and away from the thing we fear the most, when who and what we fear the most is usually the right answer. If you burst into tears and shake your head when someone says that you are their Hero, maybe you should take a moment and accept that mantle. If someone tells you that you are strong and you feel weak, maybe you should accept that mantle. If someone tells you they saved your life, maybe you're a Lifesaver.
Life is not easy for any of us. We have places of comfort that deaden us to the path we should walk. Drugs, drink, work, other people. You have to remember why you chose to walk that road in the first place. Was it to trade one cage for another or to find something new?
The hardest thing any of us can do, in the path of self discovery, is look at what we think is wisdom, think deeply about how we got here, and make the hard choice -- every time.
No, I'm not talking about you, or maybe I am. The Universe will not tolerate you being less than you can be. If will strip you bare and throw you in the street if it has to to get your attention. I've seen it, time after time.
I used to say I fight the world -- you can't fight the world, only yourself. It's the Paradox of the Scorpion:
A man was buried to his neck and left to die as a means of torture
The scorpion came to him and the man asked the scorpion how he would keep from going mad
The scorpion said "Love your pain and cherish it and it will leave."
And then man said "If I love my pain, I won't want it to leave."
The Scorpion said "Now you understand pain."
Until you look for the thing you fear most, and embrace it, it will never leave, and when it leaves, you won't want it to.
I feared being alone and now... well, that story is never finished.
We who walk a road on fire, must make choices, hard choices every day: abandon the comfortable lie and embrace the difficult truth, or climb in a cage of our own design.
Might as well, we built it.
Break your chains and burn with me.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Oh, so what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative.
It is a known fact, a well known one, that I find wisdom and enlightenment in everything. The craziest things speak to me and speak them back out. Last night I had beers with a dear friend and her (soon to be, I hope) girlfriend. We laughed a lot and cried a little and spoke on every subject known to man. At the end, Angela (my friend) said "They should make a movie about you."
I doubt I will ever be the subject of a movie. All I do is process things that I hear and pump them back out. But if they ever do, be sure and steal these lines from Supernatural:
Zachariah: All I'm saying is, it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things, save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse, it's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around: there are plenty of fates worse than yours. So you with me? You want to go steam yourself another latte, or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?
Simple choice. Live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury you and have a latte, or get to work changing things.
I doubt I will ever be the subject of a movie. All I do is process things that I hear and pump them back out. But if they ever do, be sure and steal these lines from Supernatural:
Zachariah: All I'm saying is, it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things, save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse, it's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around: there are plenty of fates worse than yours. So you with me? You want to go steam yourself another latte, or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?
Simple choice. Live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury you and have a latte, or get to work changing things.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Homecoming
Where was Tao while I was gone?
Wasn't I following it where I went?
Do you think that there are two?
After traveling awhile, we come home to a familiar place, only we often look at it in a new light. Were things different while we weren't here? We experienced so many new and different things while we were gone -- wasn't that Tao too? How can there be so many differences?
You might argue that a mountain is a mountain, but our attitudes toward it are changeable. If we mistake our subjective viewpoints as something that is solid, permanent, and never relative to circumstances, then we will have no end to our problems. However, if we always remember that everything is comparative, then we can move through life in a much more dynamic way.
There are not two ways. There is only one. It is so vast that we can experience widely diverging aspects of it and imagine that we are in different realities. This is a misconception. We cannot outrun Tao, cannot be outside of it. It is only our viewpoints that change to the degree that we think we are in differing dimensions. In the river of Tao, we are like minnows that can never plumb the length and breadth of the water.
I talked to two people today. Both brought clarity in the moment I am in. One of them said (correctly) that the universe is always in balance. If it feels off-balance it must be you. She's right, she usually is. I'm consumed with fire at the moment and for the past three days I have directed that fire at loss, anger, and if I do that, then the fire is destructive.
See, here's the wisdom that this person gives me: Emotions are my healing. I'm a thinker. I think shit to death. But the trap and the thing that grows my spirit and heals me, is my emotions. I feel things very deeply. I become deeply involved with people. I become invested. That's my strength. When I withdraw from people it's because I can't take it and need a breather. But that doesn't mean I don't miss them or they mean any less to me. I still have a lot of work to do on me. I guess we all do. We are, none of us, ever finished.
Sadly, it's also the trap. I become invested in people and I forget sometimes that these words that I live by carry power and that I can start a war, break a heart, induce fear, destroy a life all with a word. Because when i say something, people know it's never just talking. It means something.
The waves that crash on the shore now are only getting stronger, there is no ebb tide. If we dwell in darkness it will be the darkest we have ever known. If we dwell in the light, we burn brighter than we have ever known.
The other person reminded me of a simple lesson. You can guide a traveler to their destination, but they have to walk it alone, no matter how much you want to help them. They have to figure it out. That is a lesson I know well. For you to get people where they are going you have to watch them walk away. Maybe they come back, maybe they don't. That was never the goal anyway. The goal of the signpost is to direct the way, not to carry the load.
Ignorance of these things throws life out of balance. There is always another traveler on the road, there is always another lost soul, there is always another person to become invested in. But that doesn't mean we should ever lose sight of those we care for, even when they turn the bend in the road and pass out of view. Because we care, because there is always a tomorrow, and because they may be waiting to help you find your way next time.
Burn with me.
Wasn't I following it where I went?
Do you think that there are two?
After traveling awhile, we come home to a familiar place, only we often look at it in a new light. Were things different while we weren't here? We experienced so many new and different things while we were gone -- wasn't that Tao too? How can there be so many differences?
You might argue that a mountain is a mountain, but our attitudes toward it are changeable. If we mistake our subjective viewpoints as something that is solid, permanent, and never relative to circumstances, then we will have no end to our problems. However, if we always remember that everything is comparative, then we can move through life in a much more dynamic way.
There are not two ways. There is only one. It is so vast that we can experience widely diverging aspects of it and imagine that we are in different realities. This is a misconception. We cannot outrun Tao, cannot be outside of it. It is only our viewpoints that change to the degree that we think we are in differing dimensions. In the river of Tao, we are like minnows that can never plumb the length and breadth of the water.
I talked to two people today. Both brought clarity in the moment I am in. One of them said (correctly) that the universe is always in balance. If it feels off-balance it must be you. She's right, she usually is. I'm consumed with fire at the moment and for the past three days I have directed that fire at loss, anger, and if I do that, then the fire is destructive.
See, here's the wisdom that this person gives me: Emotions are my healing. I'm a thinker. I think shit to death. But the trap and the thing that grows my spirit and heals me, is my emotions. I feel things very deeply. I become deeply involved with people. I become invested. That's my strength. When I withdraw from people it's because I can't take it and need a breather. But that doesn't mean I don't miss them or they mean any less to me. I still have a lot of work to do on me. I guess we all do. We are, none of us, ever finished.
Sadly, it's also the trap. I become invested in people and I forget sometimes that these words that I live by carry power and that I can start a war, break a heart, induce fear, destroy a life all with a word. Because when i say something, people know it's never just talking. It means something.
The waves that crash on the shore now are only getting stronger, there is no ebb tide. If we dwell in darkness it will be the darkest we have ever known. If we dwell in the light, we burn brighter than we have ever known.
The other person reminded me of a simple lesson. You can guide a traveler to their destination, but they have to walk it alone, no matter how much you want to help them. They have to figure it out. That is a lesson I know well. For you to get people where they are going you have to watch them walk away. Maybe they come back, maybe they don't. That was never the goal anyway. The goal of the signpost is to direct the way, not to carry the load.
Ignorance of these things throws life out of balance. There is always another traveler on the road, there is always another lost soul, there is always another person to become invested in. But that doesn't mean we should ever lose sight of those we care for, even when they turn the bend in the road and pass out of view. Because we care, because there is always a tomorrow, and because they may be waiting to help you find your way next time.
Burn with me.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Secrets
It's just us here, just you and I. No mysteries or masks, just a world of words that come crumbling down upon the writer. All that bluster and bluff, we know it isn't real. It's Tin Man confidence, boldness in the face of fear. Style over substance.
The words are as real as the author, as real as the memories. The world is as real as we make it.
To all the words that have never been said, to all the words that never will be said, to all the things you leave behind with me when you go, let us remember them, like the things you leave behind.
The words are as real as the author, as real as the memories. The world is as real as we make it.
To all the words that have never been said, to all the words that never will be said, to all the things you leave behind with me when you go, let us remember them, like the things you leave behind.
Footlights
The actress once said I was "that guy." the one that night after night enters from stage left, right on cue. The one who always says his lines. The one who is always where he is supposed to be.
Some days I wish I wasn't.
All the world's a stage and the show must go on.
Burn with me.
Some days I wish I wasn't.
All the world's a stage and the show must go on.
Burn with me.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Steps
The steps are slow and the way is narrow, the path that leads from might-have-been to may-be. A trusting hand and a patient heart that asks nothing but trust and offers the burning, lingering promise of everything. One risk, one word of assent carries such dreams into a future of fire. It is not boldly we go, but bravely. One breathless kiss and a leap of faith.
Burn with me.
Burn with me.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Measure for measure
The strength of a mountain is not measured by how long it stood, but what it stood against. The strength of a fire is not measured by its size, but how brightly it burns.
Burn with me.
Burn with me.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Seeing the end from the beginning
I've told you so many times, I can see the future. Do you know what it is like to stand in the crossroads and know that if I say or do something, that it will ripple and change everything?
I have looked into blue eyes and known that one kiss would unmake the future: children would never be born, lives would be shattered, I know how ends before it begins.
Today I am working without a map. There is a future I can't see.
It's beautiful and exciting.
I have looked into blue eyes and known that one kiss would unmake the future: children would never be born, lives would be shattered, I know how ends before it begins.
Today I am working without a map. There is a future I can't see.
It's beautiful and exciting.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Crossroads
It is a very curious thing to stand at the crossroads and watch people come and go. To wonder if you are standing still. Like a guide in the forest or those poor bastards at the information counter who have to tell people where to go to find the next information booth. It's like following breadcrumbs.
This has been the week of leavetaking. Three have made an exit, one of them I will see again. She found her way. The other two... well, they had to make way for what was next, I suppose.
It gets lonely here sometimes.
But most of the time, it feels amazing.
There is one fire that burns in all of us. We are connected, those of us who dance within the flame.
We burn
Burn with me
This has been the week of leavetaking. Three have made an exit, one of them I will see again. She found her way. The other two... well, they had to make way for what was next, I suppose.
It gets lonely here sometimes.
But most of the time, it feels amazing.
There is one fire that burns in all of us. We are connected, those of us who dance within the flame.
We burn
Burn with me
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Yeager Road Diaries: The Actress and the Cowboy
This is how stories begin and end, with a smile, with tears, and with the truth.
Once upon a time there was a young actress in Hollywood California. She was the star of live theater and made two appearances in film. The film roles were small and focused on her spectacular bosom. Years went by and the actress travelled the world, alone, and in the company of others. Her life was an adventure, but she never knew it. What she believed was that she was the luckiest person alive, what she didn't know was that she had yet to meet the luckiest person alive. Over those years, her fortunes rose and fell. She was engaged a half-dozen times and dated movie stars and directors. She was a small fish in a very big pond.
There was a man in this story, there always is. The man was rich and powerful and had known her all her life. Off and on through the years, she would drift back and forth into his life and he into hers. He's not the hero of the story, because it's not his story, it's hers.
There came a time when things got bad for the actress, her debts racked up, she got in trouble with the law (nothing major, but big enough), and she ran away from her life. She went to Italy to find the answers and for a while, she was happy.
The truth of life is that you can only run away for so long and the past will catch you. You can fight the current, but the stream will carry you where you are meant to be. For a short season, she escaped her fate and then the current turned and she ended up in Marietta, Georgia.
Time and life and a bad turn in Italy took her money. The airlines lost her belongings. All she possessed in the world were a few bags of clothes. When the universe wants to get your attention, it takes away everything you hold dear and leaves you naked to face the world. That's when she met the cowboy.
When the actress met the cowboy, she didn't know what she was in for. Yes, he was charming and fun, but he was honest and honorable and a lot of other things she had never encountered in Hollywood. And while the actress thought she was brave, she had never had to be brave before, because she had never faced herself. The cowboy met her on the road of life and helped her face her fears. He put her feet on the path she was supposed to go and he sent her on her way.
You see, this was the cowboy's job. This was why he was here, to help people get where they are going. He was an agent of change and when he shows up, everything changes for the better. The last words he said to her the day he put her on the airplane was: "When you get there, make the hard choice."
And she did. She stopped running, because now she could face the things she was running from. The actress found what she was looking for in California. The Cowboy got her where she was going and he watched her walk into the sunset and waited for the next lost traveler along the road...
We could call this the end, but, as we know, nothing ever ends...
Once upon a time there was a young actress in Hollywood California. She was the star of live theater and made two appearances in film. The film roles were small and focused on her spectacular bosom. Years went by and the actress travelled the world, alone, and in the company of others. Her life was an adventure, but she never knew it. What she believed was that she was the luckiest person alive, what she didn't know was that she had yet to meet the luckiest person alive. Over those years, her fortunes rose and fell. She was engaged a half-dozen times and dated movie stars and directors. She was a small fish in a very big pond.
There was a man in this story, there always is. The man was rich and powerful and had known her all her life. Off and on through the years, she would drift back and forth into his life and he into hers. He's not the hero of the story, because it's not his story, it's hers.
There came a time when things got bad for the actress, her debts racked up, she got in trouble with the law (nothing major, but big enough), and she ran away from her life. She went to Italy to find the answers and for a while, she was happy.
The truth of life is that you can only run away for so long and the past will catch you. You can fight the current, but the stream will carry you where you are meant to be. For a short season, she escaped her fate and then the current turned and she ended up in Marietta, Georgia.
Time and life and a bad turn in Italy took her money. The airlines lost her belongings. All she possessed in the world were a few bags of clothes. When the universe wants to get your attention, it takes away everything you hold dear and leaves you naked to face the world. That's when she met the cowboy.
When the actress met the cowboy, she didn't know what she was in for. Yes, he was charming and fun, but he was honest and honorable and a lot of other things she had never encountered in Hollywood. And while the actress thought she was brave, she had never had to be brave before, because she had never faced herself. The cowboy met her on the road of life and helped her face her fears. He put her feet on the path she was supposed to go and he sent her on her way.
You see, this was the cowboy's job. This was why he was here, to help people get where they are going. He was an agent of change and when he shows up, everything changes for the better. The last words he said to her the day he put her on the airplane was: "When you get there, make the hard choice."
And she did. She stopped running, because now she could face the things she was running from. The actress found what she was looking for in California. The Cowboy got her where she was going and he watched her walk into the sunset and waited for the next lost traveler along the road...
We could call this the end, but, as we know, nothing ever ends...
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Finding Roy
Thirty-five years ago, I started Chasing Roy. I found him.
My grandfather was everything to me. He taught me right from wrong, truth from lie and what it was to be honorable. Of all the people I have met in my life, my grandfather surfed the Tao better than anyone I had ever met, even though he had no words for it.
Six months ago I broke up with my girlfriend. I did so because the relationship was not healthy for either of us. I had delayed the growth after my divorce and she lost all the independence that attracted me to her in the first place. I set out with a single thought: That I would spend six months seeing if I could live without needing someone in my life. What I discovered was me.
Years ago, my ex-wife, the wife of the guy my ex-wife cheated with, and I went to a mystic bookstore so they could have their fortune told. I am, very often, about as spiritual as a toaster. My ex-wife and the woman came out and neither looked happy and I was about to leave when they told me to go ahead and go in. The woman told me that things were going to get rough and that they were then going to get better and I needed to be ready for that. Standard stuff for fortune tellers. Then she went off script and said something I will never forget. She said: "You are chasing something and to finally catch it you need to understand that you are an agent of change. You stand in the road and people meet you and you help them get where they are going. This is what you are supposed to be doing. You will get everything you've ever wanted, but, most of the time, you won't get to keep it. But sometimes, they stay."
The next year was hell on Earth and I delayed that by finding a woman to bury myself in.
For the last six months I have focused on one thing, trying to help people get where they are going. I made some false starts, I even was unintentionally hurtful to some people, but I'm learning.
Today I dropped someone off at the airport, a person that means a lot to me. They were lost. They were running and afraid and I got them where they were going. This is it. Getting up every day and doing the right thing. Being honorable in your dealings. Being as honest as you can be. Trying to do no harm. This is what my grandfather did every day of his life. I am not perfect, I never will be, and I will stumble. But, this is it. This is why I am here.
Afterwards, I talked to another friend, one who knows me very well and she said something that made me smile and cry just a little. Then it was a cascade, one person after another, not knowing the story, just sensed something today, ripples in a pool.
I walked eight blocks to lunch. I ate at a small deli I hadn't been in for 10 years. I sat outside in the almost warm weather and listened to a street musician play "Killing me softly" on his horn and I smiled. Life will never be perfect, but it can be glorious and beautiful just like the people in it. It isn't money. It isn't possessions. It is life; it gets under your skin. You take one breath and you want another one. We live today. We get today. And, there is, as someone who is very, very precious to me said, plenty of time in the future...
What a beautiful thought.
Burn with me.
My grandfather was everything to me. He taught me right from wrong, truth from lie and what it was to be honorable. Of all the people I have met in my life, my grandfather surfed the Tao better than anyone I had ever met, even though he had no words for it.
Six months ago I broke up with my girlfriend. I did so because the relationship was not healthy for either of us. I had delayed the growth after my divorce and she lost all the independence that attracted me to her in the first place. I set out with a single thought: That I would spend six months seeing if I could live without needing someone in my life. What I discovered was me.
Years ago, my ex-wife, the wife of the guy my ex-wife cheated with, and I went to a mystic bookstore so they could have their fortune told. I am, very often, about as spiritual as a toaster. My ex-wife and the woman came out and neither looked happy and I was about to leave when they told me to go ahead and go in. The woman told me that things were going to get rough and that they were then going to get better and I needed to be ready for that. Standard stuff for fortune tellers. Then she went off script and said something I will never forget. She said: "You are chasing something and to finally catch it you need to understand that you are an agent of change. You stand in the road and people meet you and you help them get where they are going. This is what you are supposed to be doing. You will get everything you've ever wanted, but, most of the time, you won't get to keep it. But sometimes, they stay."
The next year was hell on Earth and I delayed that by finding a woman to bury myself in.
For the last six months I have focused on one thing, trying to help people get where they are going. I made some false starts, I even was unintentionally hurtful to some people, but I'm learning.
Today I dropped someone off at the airport, a person that means a lot to me. They were lost. They were running and afraid and I got them where they were going. This is it. Getting up every day and doing the right thing. Being honorable in your dealings. Being as honest as you can be. Trying to do no harm. This is what my grandfather did every day of his life. I am not perfect, I never will be, and I will stumble. But, this is it. This is why I am here.
Afterwards, I talked to another friend, one who knows me very well and she said something that made me smile and cry just a little. Then it was a cascade, one person after another, not knowing the story, just sensed something today, ripples in a pool.
I walked eight blocks to lunch. I ate at a small deli I hadn't been in for 10 years. I sat outside in the almost warm weather and listened to a street musician play "Killing me softly" on his horn and I smiled. Life will never be perfect, but it can be glorious and beautiful just like the people in it. It isn't money. It isn't possessions. It is life; it gets under your skin. You take one breath and you want another one. We live today. We get today. And, there is, as someone who is very, very precious to me said, plenty of time in the future...
What a beautiful thought.
Burn with me.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Meeting the man, again
I like words. I write well (most of the time) and I fell in love with words a long time ago. Sometime my words are beautiful and sometimes they are rough. Sometimes my words lurk in dark alleys and mug other words for their vowels.
Somewhere in this love affair with words I realized that words have power and they have meaning. I have sometimes given my word too quickly, or not quickly enough. I have always tried to keep my word. That's when your word means something.
Sometimes you just shut up and let someone else do the words for you:
“People with courage and character always seem sinister to the rest.” - Hermann Hesse
“Honor is simply the morality of superior men.” - Henry Louis Mencken
“Honor is the inner garment of the Soul; the first thing put on by it with the flesh, and the last it layeth down at its separation from it.”- Akhenaton (King of Egypt, 14th century BC)
“He has honor if he holds himself to an ideal of conduct though it is inconvenient, unprofitable, or dangerous to do so.” - Walter Lippmann
And finally, a semi-fictitious account of a probably real person. But the sentiment remains true.
"Live with a man 40 years. Share his house, his meals. Speak on every subject. Then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man." - Xiongnu
Who are you in the volcano? Who are the people you know when they are in the volcano?
Words.
If you weighed yours, what would they be worth?
Burn with me
Somewhere in this love affair with words I realized that words have power and they have meaning. I have sometimes given my word too quickly, or not quickly enough. I have always tried to keep my word. That's when your word means something.
Sometimes you just shut up and let someone else do the words for you:
“People with courage and character always seem sinister to the rest.” - Hermann Hesse
“Honor is simply the morality of superior men.” - Henry Louis Mencken
“Honor is the inner garment of the Soul; the first thing put on by it with the flesh, and the last it layeth down at its separation from it.”- Akhenaton (King of Egypt, 14th century BC)
“He has honor if he holds himself to an ideal of conduct though it is inconvenient, unprofitable, or dangerous to do so.” - Walter Lippmann
And finally, a semi-fictitious account of a probably real person. But the sentiment remains true.
"Live with a man 40 years. Share his house, his meals. Speak on every subject. Then tie him up, and hold him over the volcano's edge. And on that day, you will finally meet the man." - Xiongnu
Who are you in the volcano? Who are the people you know when they are in the volcano?
Words.
If you weighed yours, what would they be worth?
Burn with me
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The Yeager Road Diaries: The Girl in the Middle
As I've written the stories of my childhood, I've told you about the boys: Mood, Lewie, Shaun, and Keith. There were others on the periphery, but most of them had moved on by the time some of my stories were told. There was Eric, the Egg-Head, for example. I had known him longer than I had known any of the rest. There was Shaun's friend Scott, but an auto accident with his father derailed him. Then there was the girl in the middle: Linda.
When I met Linda Marie Freeman, she was 15 years old and "going steady" with Terry "Lewie" Lewallen. If you remember anything about Terry beyond his remarkable stupidity, it was that he was, at the time, considered handsome. He could grow an impressive beard and he was fairly bulky (which is to say he looked muscular, but wasn't). Linda was not the usual sort of girl that Lewie dated, she was attractive. She wasn't a movie star, but she was cute. Rail thin with big blue eyes that peeped out from behind her glasses, Linda was, might as well say it, the first love of my life.
I don't recall how Linda and Lewie broke up, but they did and he moved on to an ugly girl with an impressive resume in the bedroom. Linda moved on to no one and it took me a long time to figure out why. She was waiting for me.
It's a strange thing to type those words now, but looking back across my life to those moments, I realize how completely clueless I was. To lift the lyrics of a song, we were waiting on our lives to start their endings; we were just children who thought they were grown. It never occurred to me that she might feel the same way about me.
I call her the girl in the middle, because in every picture of our group, there she was, in the center of us. Every day at lunch she sat at the table in the middle, directly opposite from me. She was in my default line of vision and, again, I had no idea why. I would sit there and think about how much I was in love with her and never say a word about it while she smiled back at me. I wrote reams of bad poetry, had conversations with my mirror, and dream dreams of her. In 1982 if you looked up clueless in the dictionary; there was a picture of me beside it.
I graduated High-School in May of 1983 and something in that transformative process took the boldness that I showed in every other aspect of my life and made in part of my desire for romance. I asked her out on a date. Linda and I went out many times but somewhere in my head I couldn't get around to asking her to be my girlfriend. I would meet her at work when she would get off and kiss her in the parking lot. That kept up until she was late getting home one night and her father came to check on her. She was instructed to go home right after work. Her parents didn't like me much after that.
There are three small stories left to tell before the heartache. The first was her birthday. I didn't have much in the way of money, but I wanted to show her a good time. Keith, the coward, lived in a house with cool parents and they had a half finished basement that served as a good place for us all to get together. He volunteered it. Keith's mom made a cake; Lewie volunteered his huge Lincoln and his services as a chauffeur. Mood made suggestions and I made the plan.
Lewie drove with me in the back seat and I picked up Linda. The two of us were driven back to Keith's place. We sang happy birthday, ate cake, and opened presents, and my heart ached. When the party was over, Lewie insisted, a little jealously, that he drive us home. Linda and I snuck out the back and drove off in my embarrassingly small 1974 dodge dart, which was a horrifying DOT orange. We parked in a cul-de-sac and I pulled her into my arms and we made-out like teenagers, because we were. I looked into those blue eyes and those words caught at the back of my throat. I hadn't learned yet that if you feel it, say it. Then I took her home.
Somewhere along the line, I got the idea in my head that I was dark and brooding, possibly because I was dark and brooding and it just wasn't popular yet. The second story is the night she came to my place. She and I sat on the floor of my guestroom with the door cracked open (because my father insisted) and whispered and talked and kissed. I wish to god I could remember the whole conversation. What I do remember is that she was tired of waiting. See, I learned on Valentine's Day that there was another man. I'd given her a rose and he'd given her a dozen. But, yet, she was still waiting on me. Somewhere in that conversation I said something dumb and logical about having to go to college and that I could not ask her to marry me.
And that was it.
With those words I somehow put in her head that I wasn't the one, that I didn't love her or want her, that I was never going to ask her to be my girl.
The night of her graduation I didn't see her. But Lewie told me that she had left with the other man and they were getting married. He was bumbling and stupid, but I think he was trying to be kind. Keith grew some balls and told Lewie to shut up. Mood just told me that I didn't need her.
There was an older woman in my life by then, an on again, off again love affair with a woman closer to my mom's age than mine. But every February 3rd, when Linda's birthday would roll around, I would remember. I ended up believing my own press and marrying a woman that "needed me," because I never thought I could do better.
Today, Linda lives in Douglasville again, by all reports she is a hobbiest in black-powder and muzzle-loading rifles and teaches Indian lore to kids.
I saw her one more time, driving down the road in Douglasville, she slowed and we looked at each other, I don't know if she recognized me. The moment is etched forever in my mind, just like that first kiss, and the night I stood on a golf course at night and Lewie told me she was leaving with the second choice.
She loved me, roses, and Billy Joel. It's 24 years later and I still turn the radio dial when "Uptown Girl" comes on. Everyone comes into your life for a reason. They teach you things and Linda taught me to say "I love you" when you feel it.
Everyone comes into your life for a reason, sometimes they stay.
When I met Linda Marie Freeman, she was 15 years old and "going steady" with Terry "Lewie" Lewallen. If you remember anything about Terry beyond his remarkable stupidity, it was that he was, at the time, considered handsome. He could grow an impressive beard and he was fairly bulky (which is to say he looked muscular, but wasn't). Linda was not the usual sort of girl that Lewie dated, she was attractive. She wasn't a movie star, but she was cute. Rail thin with big blue eyes that peeped out from behind her glasses, Linda was, might as well say it, the first love of my life.
I don't recall how Linda and Lewie broke up, but they did and he moved on to an ugly girl with an impressive resume in the bedroom. Linda moved on to no one and it took me a long time to figure out why. She was waiting for me.
It's a strange thing to type those words now, but looking back across my life to those moments, I realize how completely clueless I was. To lift the lyrics of a song, we were waiting on our lives to start their endings; we were just children who thought they were grown. It never occurred to me that she might feel the same way about me.
I call her the girl in the middle, because in every picture of our group, there she was, in the center of us. Every day at lunch she sat at the table in the middle, directly opposite from me. She was in my default line of vision and, again, I had no idea why. I would sit there and think about how much I was in love with her and never say a word about it while she smiled back at me. I wrote reams of bad poetry, had conversations with my mirror, and dream dreams of her. In 1982 if you looked up clueless in the dictionary; there was a picture of me beside it.
I graduated High-School in May of 1983 and something in that transformative process took the boldness that I showed in every other aspect of my life and made in part of my desire for romance. I asked her out on a date. Linda and I went out many times but somewhere in my head I couldn't get around to asking her to be my girlfriend. I would meet her at work when she would get off and kiss her in the parking lot. That kept up until she was late getting home one night and her father came to check on her. She was instructed to go home right after work. Her parents didn't like me much after that.
There are three small stories left to tell before the heartache. The first was her birthday. I didn't have much in the way of money, but I wanted to show her a good time. Keith, the coward, lived in a house with cool parents and they had a half finished basement that served as a good place for us all to get together. He volunteered it. Keith's mom made a cake; Lewie volunteered his huge Lincoln and his services as a chauffeur. Mood made suggestions and I made the plan.
Lewie drove with me in the back seat and I picked up Linda. The two of us were driven back to Keith's place. We sang happy birthday, ate cake, and opened presents, and my heart ached. When the party was over, Lewie insisted, a little jealously, that he drive us home. Linda and I snuck out the back and drove off in my embarrassingly small 1974 dodge dart, which was a horrifying DOT orange. We parked in a cul-de-sac and I pulled her into my arms and we made-out like teenagers, because we were. I looked into those blue eyes and those words caught at the back of my throat. I hadn't learned yet that if you feel it, say it. Then I took her home.
Somewhere along the line, I got the idea in my head that I was dark and brooding, possibly because I was dark and brooding and it just wasn't popular yet. The second story is the night she came to my place. She and I sat on the floor of my guestroom with the door cracked open (because my father insisted) and whispered and talked and kissed. I wish to god I could remember the whole conversation. What I do remember is that she was tired of waiting. See, I learned on Valentine's Day that there was another man. I'd given her a rose and he'd given her a dozen. But, yet, she was still waiting on me. Somewhere in that conversation I said something dumb and logical about having to go to college and that I could not ask her to marry me.
And that was it.
With those words I somehow put in her head that I wasn't the one, that I didn't love her or want her, that I was never going to ask her to be my girl.
The night of her graduation I didn't see her. But Lewie told me that she had left with the other man and they were getting married. He was bumbling and stupid, but I think he was trying to be kind. Keith grew some balls and told Lewie to shut up. Mood just told me that I didn't need her.
There was an older woman in my life by then, an on again, off again love affair with a woman closer to my mom's age than mine. But every February 3rd, when Linda's birthday would roll around, I would remember. I ended up believing my own press and marrying a woman that "needed me," because I never thought I could do better.
Today, Linda lives in Douglasville again, by all reports she is a hobbiest in black-powder and muzzle-loading rifles and teaches Indian lore to kids.
I saw her one more time, driving down the road in Douglasville, she slowed and we looked at each other, I don't know if she recognized me. The moment is etched forever in my mind, just like that first kiss, and the night I stood on a golf course at night and Lewie told me she was leaving with the second choice.
She loved me, roses, and Billy Joel. It's 24 years later and I still turn the radio dial when "Uptown Girl" comes on. Everyone comes into your life for a reason. They teach you things and Linda taught me to say "I love you" when you feel it.
Everyone comes into your life for a reason, sometimes they stay.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Words written at the traffic light
Not one of us were who we were becoming, as we waited on our lives to start our endings. Youth to understanding. We are still becoming. We Burn.
Burn with me
Burn with me
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