"The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Ah, Love: Revisited

Back to it then...

Vraiment.  Letting someone in can mess you the hell up.  They ask for it, they don't ask for it -  eventually if you stick around you become affected; eventually you're seized.

Your ribs part.

Your heart breathes in a light freshness.

You risk the sword...

It's that risk particularly that perplexes me.  I try not to anticipate the sword, but I understand it; I'm willing to risk, even when it's coming.  Isn't this the beauty of it all?  Is it not how we approach it in maturity and tenderness that matters most?  Were I to say, "you will be in love many times in this life, but most of them (perhaps all) will not last" would you throw off the burden of living beyond yourself, of giving it your all and say "no thanks, dude. Screw love."

Neil doesn't say "screw love," and that's why I'm revisiting this.  He "hates love."  He hates what it does to you.  I didn't give him the credit first go-around because I wanted to (and still do) see love in ideal terms.  I didn't want to hate it.  But love is nasty. Messy.  You get tangled and everything goes to shit. I still don't hate love, but a recent breakup got me approaching a truer understanding of its raw power.

Love strikes. We collide with someone. We grow beyond immediate connection.  We bloom in the fires of another heart.  And then it ends.  Whether it's first spoken in the chest or on the lips, love's spell breaks, and you know when you've reached the line.  Some ignore it and keep pushing.  Some may force the hand and bail early.  I've done both, but I try to live somewhere in the middle.

I've always been of the school that says its best to approach love with an open heart throughout, which is I guess why I quote The Prophet so readily.  But an open heart is a hard effing thing to have all the time, Kahlil. You get engulfed, and openness hurts like whoa when it backfires. You retreat. You blame. You build quickly against another onslaught. 

I, for one, long to love with wild abandon, knowing full well the facts: that people are broken; that we don't often know what we want or who we are, and that will leave us burned; that we are trying, but we're gonna fail others, fail ourselves; that love is fighting for room, and we can grow and learn when we give it and us room to breathe .... I am not there yet, neither fully "me" nor fully capable.  I am, with each broken effort, moving closer though.  I am fighting for "that brave and happy life."

Am I kidding myself?  Is it wiser to simply hold off?   To hunker down and ignore the beauty whirling around us?  To play it safe and tap in only when the cards are stacked on our side? Or, am I approaching it the way we all should?

We all got insecurities.  We all have pieces of ourselves we loathe -  heavy pieces that make us fear the twilight, that keep us in bed in the morning, that run from open spaces.   If we can do anything, we can approach those pieces. Learn their quirks.  Love them, as we begin to love ourselves.  For that's where it all starts.

Fight my friends, for your place in this world, for your loves.  Let go when the time comes, but never fear the sword.

"Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence." - David Byrne

Corridors of Spirit

                                                              — Rumer Godden

Connected

"If you complete the journey to your own heart, 

you will find yourself in the heart of  

 everyone else."

Magnus

If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,

we should give thanks that the end had magnitude. 

- Jack Gilbert

Beyond Choice

Upon thinking about my state in life, I've come to conclude that the best thing to do is to settle the stirring, to find a steady current and construct a routine, build from there, rebelling when I must against said structure in order to stay sane.  If this is how I best operate, then why not be subject to it?

Here's the kicker - I don't want that life; at least not yet.  I don't want to feel like I'm feigning control of my day, because that's all people seem to clothe themselves in, this idea that they have a handle on anything.  I pride myself on my  willingness to think the opposite, on my leanings toward experiential living, on riding and being the wind, on walking to the maniacal drumbeat of my spirit in spite of mandate or convention.  I've found that while yes structure often makes me more productive, mad growth only happens on the move.

Soo...if I've come to understand anything it's this: I have to bridge the two ways.  Build a frame when I must, but keep the catapult ever-taut and loaded.  The paradox of security does not need to keep me captive, and while it is folly to reject steady growth, it's also blindness to think that's all there is.  A boat needs both sail and rudder, and while you cannot always trust your hand, you also cannot wait forever for the winds to change.  Faith and action my friends - just don't sacrifice the life you wish to live while you're too busy either frantically building or patientily waiting. Know the relation between the two, and weed through the in-between.  Treacherous balance, I know.

The only way to gather focus, discipline, or cohesion, to grow in relation to the spirit, is to own the choices you make, to lean in, to want the change that is happening, and when the door opens: to fight for a life that feeds itself, crowbar in tow.  Whatever works best for you, ride it, but always beyond itself, for the method of the moment is never the point, only a tool is.  Is your toolbox stocked?

In living a transient lifestyle that basically forces me to be reactive to my situation (adaptability is something I'm rather exceptional at, but also a source of compounding friction in my life) I must learn to harness my direction, must either seize or yield to the movement, and learn through momentary awareness.  If it's truly about the order of exploration, then I must listen to the track in play, and sing loud as I seek the soul of the moment, whether aloft or stuck.  I won't tread confidently elsewhere until I do.

And here's what this leaves me with:
I NEED TO BE MORE AWARE OF WHAT MY CHOICES MEAN.
The choice to not drink tonight or to run 3 miles tomorrow at 5am is not the end of the matter; it isn't the point.  What lies behind the act?  Steps reverberate beyond themselves, and we must move with purpose, even as we wander or drift, for the meaning is everywhere.  I must live beyond the choice, beyond the action, into what it means to the full scope in my consciousness, while not un-tethering from the very real now.  Again, treacherous balance. Awareness, in many forms, must be befriended.  I will not live my life any one way, but rather bend and flow in the current, always poised to allow people and places to affect my path.

What is the sea telling me?

What about my vessel has led me exactly here?

............

“Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul, if either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.” - Gibran

The Dust Settles

"Settle" is a loaded term, associated somehow with defeat.  In fact, a good number of people today will cringe when they even hear the word.  But what's the heart of this idea?  Why the repulsion? Are we ravenous for control? Revolted by the thought of throwing in the towel?  Smitten with the notions of what we want life to be like and allergic to anything in opposition to that vison?  What is it to settle?

Good ole' Ed Poe wrote a story that touches on settling, about a sailor and a sinking ship.  Not in a way that you might immediately associate with the term, but in a way that advocates leaning in to what we may be avoiding.  Perhaps the answer is tucked away beneath the placid waters of our day.

In Descent into the Maelstrom, Poe's sailor learns an 'insane lesson in chaos management.'  As he spins wildly toward his doom, flailing in the midst of one of the most monstrous whirlpools you can fathom, our sailor lands on a wonderful thought: He cannot fight the chaos, nor can he conquer it.

And then something happens. Once the sailor "settles," once he gives in and steps back and peers on the mad beauty of it all, he finds a sort of union with the chaos.  He gains new eyes, noticing that certain objects aren't exactly sinking.  He begins to hone in on the poetic, yet orderly, destruction around him.  Beauty becomes the only way out. That and latching himself to a sizable barrel.

The lesson, I gather, is that finding an order to things is not the same as control: in fact, the Maelstrom cannot be controlled and neither can the madness of our days. Escape is possible only through joining in the chaos on its own terms, leaning in and letting go.  That's when you start to see. 

We settle when we say, 'I choose this because I might as well,' or "nothing better is coming along, so hey..." but settling itself is never a true possibility, because change is inevitable and we're always swept away again amidst the chaos, no matter where we sit.  Sure, some people sit longer and own their lot, say "this is my life."  But are they really content with it, or are they, in fact, still unsettled?

Contentment comes more from a sense of peace with the reality of a situation, enjoying your place for what it is in space and time, but open enough to know that change is afoot, and ready at the helm when those winds do come.  I'd rather be at peace with my lot than put stock in the notion that I've "settled."  You can choose your words as you wish.

A point: You should never knock contentment or happiness that sneaks up on you; you may just have found a good thing, so lean into it.  It's a surprise, I'm sure, to find a dash of joy in an arena you've been avoiding, or one you never saw in the cards, but it would be folly to push it away once you've bloomed to it.  You need to continue to strive and grow, and your path will certainly be dictated by where you "settle" and what you can learn there.  You should also understand that your original desires will evolve and guide you out of your current state.

Change is the only constant, and you will be guided forward, willingly or holding onto the floor. Your choice.  Be that down the street or otherwheres, have faith in the unfolding of your story.

I went hiking a few weeks back and felt a good shift happen.  Flooded in a series of epiphanies, I think I re-found myself, oddly at peace with the woods.  As the old hymnal goes:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Keep holding true, my friends.  If nothing else, be content that you are part of life, and find joy - wherever you are - in bearing witness to it.

a story for tomorrow

Ah, Love: Part 5

"Amelie has a strange feeling of absolute harmony. It's a perfect moment. A soft light, a scent in the air, the quiet murmur of the city. A surge of love, an urge to help mankind overcomes her."

S'pose I'll leave it at that.

Ah, Love: Part 4

Guiding points --

Ah, Love: Part 3

Bueller? Thoughts?

"Cameron has never been in love, at least nobody's ever been in love with him. If things don't change for him, he's gonna marry the first girl he lays, and she's gonna treat him like shit, because she will have given him, what he has built up in his mind as the end all be all of human existence. She won't respect him. Cause...You can't respect somebody who kisses your ass. Just doesn't work."

Ah, Love: Part 2

How bout you, Neil?

I see... Truth to them words for sure.  I'll say this: you're an awesome writer and one helluvan imaginative fella' but I have to disagree with you on this one; I think you're missing a HUGE point.  I'll let my man Kahlil tell you why:

When love beckons to you, follow her,
Though her ways are hard and steep.

And when her wings enfold you yield to her,
Though the sword hidden among her pinions
may wound you.

And when she speaks to you believe in her,
Though her voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall she
crucify you. Even as she is for your growth
so is she for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and
caresses your tenderest branches that quiver
in the sun,
So shall she descend to your roots and
shake them in their clinging to the earth.
........
All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your
heart, and in that knowledge become a
fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only
love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover
your nakedness and pass out of love's
threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you
shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes
naught but from itself.

Love possesses not nor would it be
possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart," but rather, "I am
in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course
of love, for love, if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.
.......
Love has no other desire but to fulfill
itself.
.......   
( from "On Love", The Prophet)

See Neil, from my angle, Love is meant to open us up and affect us incredibly, so that we might "know the secrets of our hearts."  Love often. Take the hit. Be hurt. Love again....  Only way to bloom.

Alsup said it's on you to figure out what love means, to you.  Here's to that uncovering.  Stay tuned.

Ah, Love: Part 1

Ever been in love? Yeah me too. Ah...

The Moment You Know

6 words: I like to scribble in Moleskines.  Something about an "outdated tool" like pen and paper taps into a hidden part of my spirit, a place that computers and bits can't wrangle, and I suppose this blog will never hold the charm of my pocket journals.  In any case, I can attempt to link what I scribe physically and what I throw to the world through this wacky medium.

So the question today - one I have asked on many days before this one - is this:

"What is this moment about?"

My attempt at an answer:

This moment - like all the zillions of moments before and after it - is about, well, whatever it is you are about right now.  And many other things.  This particular moment is about keys and letters and words that wish to tackle a truth.  The rabbit hole barrels deeper, as the moment bleeds into the others, and it's on us to unpack it, the Now, with love and awareness.  And honesty.  Where are you?  Can you easily tap into joy?  What color do you feel?  What does "now" taste like?  This is your year, for it's all you got, because the time is NOW, and you are a living mystery, today.

In order to hear, listen.
In order to see, stare at things.
This moment is wide open and beautiful, so follow it into the next my friend, to and across the verge "like a sinking star beyond the utmost bound of human thought." And there, you will find another equally beautiful and magnificent moment, just waiting to be known.

Search Party

What are we looking for?  Why aren't we happy? Fulfilled?  What is this life about?  Heavy hitting questions, dear sir.

It would seem that most of what we do is seek, and what we find we quickly pocket, scurrying to the next shiny idea.  But is this the best approach to life? I've heard it said that "you are what you seek" and I would back this claim.

A person becomes what he values, what he's after.  I for one see merits in wanting/desire, but I also concur with my Buddhist brethren in stamping attachment a villain.  You can get hung up on many a thing, and while stuckness may bear fruit (thinking Pirsig), it often holds you much too long.  

The story that finds me comes from Tuesday's with Morrie, and it's about a little wave...

So this little wave is bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He’s enjoying the wind and the fresh air–until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore. 

“My God, this is terrible,” the wave says. ‘Look what’s going to happen to me!’

“Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him, ‘Why do you look so sad?’

“The first wave says, ‘You don’t understand! We’re all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn’t it terrible?’

“The second wave says, ‘No, you don’t understand. You’re not a wave, you’re part of the ocean.’”

Boom!  Little wave didn't know what's up. Lucky his buddy was there :)

Jeff Foster, author and speaker about cool stuff and all-around smart-guy, says that when we seek, we are seeking oneness and completeness, but we're thinking about this in the future tense. "Life as it is right now is not complete!" we proclaim. "'One day' I'll find love/escape from self/completeness/enlightenment."   In truth, we're already there; we already are who we're clamoring to be.

Anything can be used by the seeker to keep the seeking going, and shiny objects abound, believe me.  I really like this, because I know how easy it is to make goals the aim, to make the search the point; but there is a difference between understanding this intellectually and knowing it.  Ultimately, it can't be put into words (silence is equal to noise, Foster says, which is a really abstract and trippy idea), and you must simply live in being, must let go of this "need to find."

Foster argues that it's our SEARCH ITSELF THAT IS THE SENSE OF LACK, SENSE OF HOMESICKNESS, and a search for wholeness is not the answer to incompleteness.  (I have a bit a problem with this, which I'll explain with the quote below.**)

Basically, everything you're experiencing, Foster says, is a wave of the ocean. Every wave in consciousness IS consciousness.  They appear and disappear in the parabolas of your day (my cool analogy :)

A wave in the ocean is a perfect expression of the ocean, though it believes itself and experiences itself  to be separate.  The wave seeks the ocean, looking for love, looking for belonging, and just like us humans, as long as it seeks completeness, it experiences itself as incomplete. (the wave, through seeking home, experiences homesickness).  THE WAVE WON'T FIND THE OCEAN OR BECOME THE OCEAN AND IT WON'T BE  GIVEN THE OCEAN.  THE WAVE IS ALREADY COMPLETE.  

So the takeaway, I suppose: drop the search party to be content, and don't attempt to understand the ocean. Just be the ocean. (very Teddy)

Addendum:

**While I understand that searching itself will not cure the lack we feel, I have a problem with tossing "the search" itself into the rubbish pile to be burned. 
In this passage from Shafak's novel The Forty Rules of Love, the wandering dervish Shams of Tabriz unravels the idea of "searching for God" to a Sufi scholar quite well:

Sufi guy: “I never understand why you dervishes make life so complicated.  If God was with you all along, why did you rummage around the whole time in search of Him?”

Shams: “Because although it is a fact that He cannot be found by seeking, only those who seek can find Him.”

Final takeaway: I am Austin and I am SEEKING GOD...BECAUSE I FOUND HIM.  Life is a search party, whether we like it or not.  We may be able to sneak through the fog and know we're already at the "finish line," but life is where the waves are, as Mama Lazek would say.  Search well, but don't make the search your aim; lean in and surf them crests of curiosity, just don't cling to anything too tightly.  Okole maluna!

To Do

Hope

The most unrealistic person is the cynic, not the dreamer.  Hopefulness only makes sense when it doesn't make sense to be hopeful. - Paul Hawken

Yup.

Six Words

SMITH Magazine began a project back in 2006 called Six Word Memoirs.  Following Hemingway's supposed victory in creating the best six-word story ("Baby shoes for sale: never worn.") SMITH began compiling its own list.

What would life become when spoken in sixes?  Would saying less say more?

What is your six-word memoir? Here's a collection of mine --

Vagabonding gentleman, where doth thy roam?
I trek the magellanic in-between.
And aim to charm the wind.
Men and mountains meet quite frequently.
Jumpin' Jehosephat! I've missed my train.
Only interesting folk ever get lost.
I need to sit and extrapolate.
Found a baby, made a friend.
Took ten shots. Ate the worm.
Inspired by sky, climbed a tree.
Stole her words with a kiss.
Love spun wildly in the night.
I am the wreckage.  Cleanup time.
Want someone to love me back.
Faith in the unfolding, He whispers.
I think six words is enough.
The poem is over. Quiet again.
Found a beginning in my end.

Flipped

"Survivors know, whether they are conscious of it or not, that to live at all is to fly upside down (640 people died in 1999 while choking on food; 320 drowned in the bath tub). You're already flying upside down. You might as well turn on the smoke and have some fun."
- Laurence Gonzales, Deep Survival

**What if everything flips upside down....because nothing at all changed?**

Ayprul Tenth

Dear Casey,
Today is your birthday, a self-proposed universal holiday, where overindulgence on cheddar-bay biscuits is mandate.

Here is your birthday poem:

Casey Wrapped-in-sparks,

driven by the will of the wisp

and the far-flung logic of a dream - 
perhaps she's figured it out.

Perhaps joy can be bottled and the girl's found a way to keep it down.

From my angle, see,

the wild of her smile sprints faster than the sun kissing the horizon goodbye.
You can’t tame that
Dancing on danger, that
Landing on light, that
Flying for fear of not living hard enough.
She's guided by something more

and the gleam of that true heart–
corralling the unbridled
housing the uncontained,
answering the questions you never knew how to ask.

A gleam, Ms. Wrapped-in-sparks, that fires the furnaces of the candle of youth.

For all our sakes, keep it lit.

May this day be as bright as you, dear sister.

Much Love,
Austin
 

Safe Travels

"...believe that the sort of life you wish to live is, at this very moment, just waiting for you to summon it up. And when you wish for it, you begin moving toward it, and it, in turn, begins moving toward you."  - Suzan-Lori Parks

SAFE TRAVELS :)

"Madness"

"They deem me mad because I will not trade my days for gold;
I deem them mad because they think my days have a price."

- Kahlil Gibran

His Response to the Mad Mess of it All

“...So among the waves of tragedy which have crashed on me with her death is a terror that our message of hope has been changed into a dreadful warning. But I must tell you that had I known in the beginning that I would be here today doing this terrible thing, I would still have loved her as unhesitatingly, because true love is worth any price one is asked to pay.

The other message we wished to convey was one of faith in the essential goodness and purpose of life. I have always felt that no matter how inscrutable its ways and means, the universe is working perfectly and working according to a greater plan than we can know.


In the last few days, I have had to battle with the fear that everything is actually just random, that the universe is a howling void of meaningless chaos, indifferent to everything that I value. All hope has at times seemed unjustified to me.

But groundless hope, like unconditional love, is the only kind worth having.


Its true name is faith. As it is a shallow faith which goes untested, so it is that if we can keep our faith through this terrible test, we will emerge with a conviction of enduring strength. And this faith will become Cynthia's greatest gift to us. If we can build with our lives a monument to her light, her gameness, and her love, she will not have died in vain, and her death will become as much a miracle as was her life."

--John Perry Barlow

April 25, 1994

A Rant on the Mad Mess of It All

If this whole mad mess weren’t so effin beautiful I would’ve looked away a long time ago. Instead, I stare. I peer through nuance and subtlety, into the tapestry being sewn into this day.  I peel back the layers of deceit and seeming-chaos in the heart of man and really do see the pretty things. Now you may claim that it’s much easier to write the world off as an arena where even the winners are just losers in denial; you may even find comfort in knowing that everything eventually dies and decays because this fuels your elementary magnetism to nihilism. I shall remark that I too have longed to spout a similar rant on the meaningless of it all, to dismiss our one mechanical existence as predetermined. Unraveling at the fringe. Screwed.  Believe it: I’ve wanted to look away many times as the evidence begins to stack against an urge to stare....But then it happens, often in a cliched opening - a newborn’s eyes or a gardenia in bloom - but still more jarring and lasting in the slight but fierce motion that blindsides you at two in the afternoon.  Just before the river spews over the ledge to the rocks below, light separates us from the void and we know that we are held by something - a force, a thought, a movement - something true and good, something too real and unbridled to claim as our own at any one moment, something we can only exist within. This afternoon-epiphany, this surge of the longing to stare, is - in my translation - the breath of God.  Sure, it’s ephemeral, abstract, trite to a point, but when it fills you, and your sails gain form, nothing else has gravity.  Trust me.

Shine on

I said it even though I only half-believed it - 

"A touch of happiness sheds light on the world.  You owe your joy to the collective."

     
        Why do I owe the world anything?

Do you breathe? Are you breathing just a little?

     
        Well. I mean...

When you breathe, God makes love to you.  You become Life, every moment, as you also bear witness to it, as you have always done.  You owe the world because you are the world, particularly to those who love you.  So keep breathing.  Embrace joy when it finds you. And shine on.

"We must risk delight." - Jack Gilbert

We could do whatever we wanted!

Phil: It's the same thing your whole life: "Clean up your room. Stand up straight. Pick up your feet. Take it like a man. Be nice to your sister. Don't mix beer and wine, ever." Oh yeah: "Don't drive on the railroad track."

Gus: Well, Phil, that's one I happen to agree with.

Too early for flapjacks?

Los Angeles - No Such Thing

“The awesome thing about LA: The whole town is like this blank canvas, and whatever you bring to it that’s what it is.  It’s just this random collection of neighborhoods where it’s always sunny, and it basically reflects wherever you’re at, back at you.  So if you’re happy, LA’s great. If you’re not, LA sucks.  But it has nothing to do with Los Angeles, because - get this -  there’s no such thing.” 

from HappyThankYouMorePlease

To be honest

Phillypandle

My brother - who's probably one of 4 people who reads this blog - has offered a suggestion: write more about yourself.

So I shall appease the phillypandle and state the following - 

As a child I was terrified of bees and dolls; I have since found peace with each. 

Twice in my life, someone has literally scared the crap out me. Actually pretty funny both times.

The family is the proving ground for us all.  Unlike some with un-asked-for friction, I find this idea approachable, as I love my family (unorthodox as we may be) and I get excited about drawing people close into that someday.  May more things in life wield such enthusiasm.  

The Tribe

The first movie I remember seeing in the theaters with my dad was Home Alone.

I often wonder if the men of today are lost because we have too many choices, and we don't want to commit to anything until we're solid in the areas that count, but we are engulfed in this expectation to both be something and everything at once, and - lost in the mire - we remain at a standstill; we don't think that we're good enough to fill the void in a woman's life until we've figured it all out because a man should know what to do when it counts, and we're terrified that we won't, or that we don't have what it takes because our fathers and their fathers didn't know how to answer that deep heart question and pass it on, so we falter, and so we run.

(**Substitute "I" for "we" in that statement if you please)

First kiss: 2nd grade, Sarah King.  So there's that.

I think a lot about the heavy things, and I dive deep maybe too quickly with people...but I don't know how else to operate.  Perhaps I so readily bolt "out-of-the-box" that I miss out on some crucial "box-thinking" lessons that everyone else seems clued in on. What can ya do?

Speaking of which, Chip 'n Dale underwear: who was quality-checking those things?!

I mean, these blokes don't even wear pants.


I'm a young dude with a substantial mound of student loan debt.  I try not to let financial upheaval get the better of me.  Maybe I don't take it seriously enough, but if anything, I'm not oblivious.  I try to let it establish my gauges, as I peer through the curtain and acknowledge reality.  But you can never let that sort of friction sit, or else it will take you.  You lube abrasion with inspiration/creativity/gumption/what-you-will, and you continue to build you.  Working on it...

One of my prouder moments in life involves giving an older bully a taste of his own medicine; unfortunately he was a she.  Even more unfortunate: her grandma was psychotic.

(Ignoring the previous statement) much of what I do is driven by that all-consuming love that fuels my breath, that has me longing for something not of this place.  I write a lot of ranting word-vomit about that search party.

So, brother, I imagine my future entries will continue to be abstract ramblings, detached yet infused in the greater story we're all writing.  So. Take what you like; leave the rest.

An Honest Moment

Three things:

1. love what is mortal

2. hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it.

3. when the time comes ... LET IT GO

                                                        (cheers to Mary Oliver)

Holiday (1938)

Lind Seaton (Katherine Hepburn): How does your garden grow, Case?  Is life wonderful where you are?

Johnny Case (Cary Grant): I wouldn’t call what I’ve been doing “living.”  

Linda:  And what do you recommend for yourself, Doctor?

Case: A holiday.

Linda: How long? 

Case: As long as I need

Linda: You mean, just to play?

Case: No. No, I’ve been working since I was ten.  I wanna find out why I’m working.  The answer can’t be just to, uh, pay bills and to pile up more money.  Even if you do the government’s going to take most of it.

Linda: Yes, but what is the answer?

Case: Well, I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out. The world’s changing out there. There’s a lot of new exciting ideas running around. Some of them might be right and some might be cockeyed, but they’re affecting all our lives.  I wanna know how I stand, where I fit into the picture, and what it’s all going to mean to me.  Well, I can’t find that out sitting behind some desk in an office.  So, as soon as I get enough money together I’m gonna knock off for a while.

Linda: Quit?

Case: Quit?!  I wanna save part of my life for myself.  There’s a catch to it though.  It’s gotta be part of the young part.  Ya know: retire young; work old.  Come back and work when I know what I’m working for.  Does that make sense to you?

I hear ya, Cary.  Ever the straight shooter and ever so relevant 70 years later, no?  One of my favorite movie pairings, these two.  Find it. Watch it. Live it.