Forget Me Not

Part of the beauty, frustration and cruelty of life is that we repeatedly forget.  

Our lives are short, but our memories are shorter.  And we forget. 

We remember briefly and swear we will not forget.

Then we forget. 

Where was I going with this, you ask?  I forget.

I just hope I remember again.  And for longer.

The Second Task

Watching the TV show taskmaster, one of my favourite moments is when contestants work very hard to accomplish a task only to be handed the dreaded second task.  This implies that all of the work they did in the first portion of the task will affect how they will be required to attack the second portion.  

Such has been my life and, I believe, the lives of most people.  We spend our lives in the direction of a goal/purpose/motivation and when we finally think we are making good solid progress on that track, it turns out that there is more to it than expected. 

At first, this seems unfair.  A bargain etched in bad faith.  But the truth is much simpler.  This second task, and who really knows how many tasks you will get handed, offers you a glimpse at the elusive second chance.  That rare opportunity to re-visit and check on your progress.  To modify and adapt and be smarter, wiser, cleaner, simpler.  Quite simply; Better.  

I am enjoying my second task and am learning that is enough.  

You evoke light out of the universe

 "You evoke light out of the universe."  ~Alan Watts

Without eyes the sun would not be bright, without ears is like strumming a stringless guitar.  

Whatever meaning and reason we pull from the universe; it is only through the filter of our own construct that it has any resonance.

Real Time Flow

Trying a new tactic here.  I have 20 minutes before my work call, so I am writing my thoughts in real time as they occur.  I keep remembering how important writing and language is to me.  Sometimes I don't fully understand the thoughts in my head until I flush them out verbally or by hand.  Sometimes my thoughts change mid-sentence as new information occurs to me that needs to be factored into my process.  Generally this process is like an off-gassing or a de-pressurization.  Or like a hose that is wild and unwieldy when you first turn it on until it settles into a proper flow. 

By allowing these thoughts and words to escape, I can process them in the tangible world where, if they stand the filter test, they might just end up part of my narrative.

Be Awesome

I have been feeling a little bit off lately.  Not sure why. I have no earthly reason to be off.  My life is going very well.  In the end, I think it just boils down to settling into new routines with Cheryl and I as we enter the next chapter of our life and re-discover both who we are and who we want to be. 

That aside, what I learned over the past few days is that I have neglecting the first rule of being awesome.  Which is, in fact, to be awesome.  I hold myself to a high standard and I know that I can handle whatever is thrown at me.  I have proven that time and time again, under unimaginable duress.  

I have also neglected to re-read my various writings and music which were specifically designed to help me when I am feeling low.  

Re-reading the writings is like remembering who I am and what I stand for.  My compass.  

Always remember to not feel guilty for feeling guilty.  You are on a journey and it will have highs and lows which is what reminds us of the ebb and flow of life and it is all ok.

Dissertation on Dissipation

Sometimes I just need to write.  Write.  Write.  Write like it is the only thing I know how to do.  As if it is the only means that I have to communicate.  Without my words I have nothing.  Sometimes it doesn’t matter how they come out.  From a full-blown comprehensive analytical essay, to a particularly clever word choice which has limited resonance outside of my own narrow thought patterns.

Either way, the writing is essential.  It is like an off-gassing.  A pressure-release.  That moment when you remove the cover from a pot of boiling water and the steam is allowed to escape giving the water permission to boil freely.

As I write, I can feel the pressure releasing from my body starting in my lungs and chest and into my stomach slowly allowing me to breathe deeper into my core and allowing the oxygen to sink deeper into my soul.  I start to notice how tight my jawline is and the slight feeling of pressure in my head starts to dissipate just a bit.  I can focus on my surroundings again.  The sun singing my skin, the thrum of crickets the pleasant shade of rust-color on the leaves of maple tree as it perches precariously.

More Thoughts

• We have two lives and the second one begins when you realize we have only one.
• I find it slightly off-putting when people use the term "I will do this until the day I die".  It seems an excessive and harsh way to make a point.
• Some music brings me right back to my bedroom in the basement on Osborne Street with my old waterbed, listening to my ghetto blaster and reading Stephen King books.  There was at time when I was 15ish that I read Christine, Carrie, Cujo, Firestarter, Dead Zone all in the span of a couple of weeks while listening to Roxette's Joyride and a few other casettes including "In your Eyes".  Somehow this odd combination of things has solidified in my brain as almost a short movie.
• It is difficult to understand change while you are in the midst of it.  It takes time and distance from a situation to look back and see how it fits into a larger world.  Sometimes we are just focusing on a small piece of a large puzzle which only becomes clear to us as we age.  Everything levels out in the end.