I figured I’d take a chance and come outside for a while or at least till the sand gnats tote me off. To my left a mockingbird sings his morning song. While overhead a squirrel and a nesting bird are having a property dispute. I’m really trying to feel better but my head is in such a fog. Last night I slept well till about 3am then the tossing and turning began. I guess I’m anxious about the upcoming month and all the doctor appointments I got to coordinate. It seems like you get no rest when you have health issues to manage.

I guess I shouldn’t bore you with such mundane facts, I mean everyone’s got their troubles. But at the moment this is all I got to vent those frustrations. Life often hands you baggage to carry that you didn’t even pack. On top of my physical issues there are the mental issues that often get put off to the side. Recently, old haunts have been able rear their ugly head again. Manifesting themselves in simple discomforts; that through panic and anxiety overcome any sense of stability you might have.
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At the moment these feelings of fear encircle my brain. It should be easy enough to just dismiss such thoughts. But for individuals like me that have build up a tolerance towards such things. Even an old mental health vet like me can still be overrun by such emotions. Having an empathetic mind doesn’t help either. When you see others suffering in mass, it can effect you so deeply that you have to just shutdown. So as the cicadas cry raises and falls through the trees, I’m left hidden under my protective armor once again. Wishing I could ignore an enemy that lives deep in my soul. 

Today is the first time I’ve been outside in three weeks. Down here we have been under a heat advisory with temperatures around 100° and a heat index around 105° to 110°. So I wisely been keeping myself in the house. Because I learned the hard way that I may feel okay at the moment, but that moment can turn around in a hurry. So I wisely watch my “P’s & Q’s” when it comes to weather and my health.

It’s 92° with a heat index of 98° right now, but a steady breeze is blowing and under the shade it feels quite nice. Still I listen to my body’s little ticks like my skin being very dry, my breath getting a little forced, plus the fact that I’m getting a rather sizeable headache. So despite my wanting to stay and enjoy the outside, my better judgement says it’s time to go. Well I scurried back to my dark air conditioned room, got me some water and an ice pack for my head. It may sound a little extreme, but I could see the signs of heat exhaustion coming.
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Most of the time we ignore the warning signs. The quiet before the storm, the sudden drop in air pressure, the dry skin, or the careless disregard for caution after a pandemic. It’s the way the mind tricks you into believing everything’s okay. But some of the time, it isn’t okay. And a devil dressed in lamb’s clothing is waiting outside your door. I don’t mean to sound so paranoid, but in times like this, selfishness and greed often wear the brightest smile. Be aware of your surroundings, even the most peaceful shade can hide danger. The danger of those wishing to steal what you worked so hard for, like your freedom and even your humanity.

Lying here under the air conditioner while the world outside continues to move without me. It’s a hard truth I’ve been forced to accept even through my stubbornness. I’m often complimented for my optimism and fortitude towards life. But in my eyes I’m just looking at things as they really are. Now my Grandma Geiger was no stranger to hard times or adversity. She was a great listener, and while she often wouldn’t spare you her opinion of your situation. At least you never felt like you were being put down or belittled for it.

It takes a great deal of discipline to wean oneself of negative chatter. That constant belittling voice inside your head that tells you you’re no good. It’s quite the oxymoron to grow up in an environment where you’re put down and insulted one minute. While being taught that you were made “perfect” through religious obedience. We were told salvation was a gift, yet there seems to always be a “but” somewhere behind that precious statement.
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I never really gave up on the concept of a higher power. It’s just that maybe that higher power is right here among us without all the rules and obligations. That nature itself is the teacher if we only listen. I’ve learned to not be afraid of who I am. To not sweep under the rug of shame the emotional baggage I carry. But instead to embrace it and show it the compassion it deserves. Kinda like my Grandma Geiger would do. I guess that’s why I am like I am. I accept my limitations but at the same time I don’t let my limitations define me. Imperfection is a difficult pill to shallow, but not an impossible one. It takes awareness, calmness, and determination to make it through life’s difficult times. 

As the tensions seem to be easing around here from the last few years. It seems like we are tentatively coming out of your cages to see the light of day. But I must admit the world seems a little stranger, a little more resistant to the ways of the past. But I can’t say very much, for my current physical condition leaves me isolated and shut-in most of the time anyway.

Growing up in a world that still guarded itself with innocence. Troubles were just starting to bleed over own television sets. While most of our time was spent outside riding our bikes playing cops and robbers. Our uncle’s and big brothers went to war leaving their hot rods covered up with tarps, waiting for the day they’d come home. Sometimes when our parents weren’t around we’d go pull off the tarp and pretend we were driving the hot rods they left behind.
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But for an unlucky few the cover never came off. One neighbor eventually sold their son’s '65 Ford Falcon 500. While down the street another neighbor kept their son’s yellow '65 Impala Coup parked next to the driveway where he left it for decades. A sort of silent tribute to a pain they never spoke about. Today most of us just seem to be angry. Mad at the time we lost and the many we lost along the way. I don’t know, sometimes I just want to turn the whole thing off. But thinking back to the “good old days “, there was just as much pain and suffering back then as we feel now. Maybe it’s just time to scream and release the pain. To accept the suffering and move on. 

Loneliness is a hard human condition. Leaving you with thoughts of isolation and abandonment. For the last several days I’ve been fighting off these feels of isolation and abandonment while fighting off physical symptoms of congestion, heat exhaustion, crippling headaches. My sleep at night is nearly non-existent and I just can’t seem to get comfortable. I hesitate to mention this to any doctor since I have two scheduled doctors appointments already this month.

Staying at my daughter’s house only compounds the problem since most of my “creature comforts” are at my home. Along with a feeling of isolation this current heat wave has drained me of all my energy. It’s hard to focus on which problem bothers me more. But in all honesty it’s the loneliness that has dominated my mind. I live in such isolation. Now in days, I don’t have any friends to call. The ones or one I do have has their own problems they’re submerged in. So I lean towards thoughts that it’s my own damn fault that I find myself without a relief value.
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I often wonder if this is the road that leads many to self-destruction. I’ve  played with these thoughts and symptoms more times than I care to count. And while I usually pull myself from this dark abyss. The moments I walk through it, relief seems a million miles away. So I sit here in my thinking chair, pinning thoughts most wouldn’t dare admit. But in a way that is the key to all this madness. To have the courage to say what you need to say. And to bravely bare yourself open to the slings and arrows of your own heart. 

Pulled once again from a deep sleep. The house is quiet while Lisa’s sleeping peacefully, as well as, our daughter’s dog and cat. So here I am alone with thoughts that not so much troubling as they are familiar. Sometimes subjects swirl through my head like distance storms on the horizon. So tonight isn’t much different than it’s been before, it’s just that it’s been a while since this has happened. So as I usually do I pull out my phone bring up Word 365 app and type away.

Stirring through the fog that makes up my memories, I pull comfort from the knowledge that we all have common ground. But as an observer of human nature I also feel the pull of tribal tendencies which we all have. I worry about my neighbors and the wounds they may carry. The festering fears that cloud their minds. The fight or flight tendencies that form their anger and hate. Even I am not immune to these thoughts and prejudices. For we all have a part of us that longs to be safe.

Outside influences that are often not even in front of us create the fear we feel. The news, rumors, and now social media brings the fear of death and destruction to our doors. For centuries we could minimize it through the limited information we received. But in this modern world we are inundated with the news of a fallen world. Honestly for the most part these fears are real. So even in the quiet of most everyone’s nights, there are fearful dreams we relive again and again.

Fear was one of the first things that attacked my mind some 23 years ago. It was a crippling problem that I learned to hide well. But the silence took it’s toll on my body. Leaving me in the physical condition I am in today. But I’ve leaned to live with it, through mindfulness and soul searching meditation I have a greater understanding of my fears. More recently using complete candor, especially in my writing, has opened me up to an even freer focus of myself. By learning to stop hiding behind a mask of stoic discipline, I’ve freed myself of the chains of pride, fear, and indifference.
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So as I look into the clouds of fear and angry all I can see is a world tearing itself apart. I could easily be one of the many that screams for destruction and revolution, but I am not. I am simply one that walks a path of introspection and hope. A hope that one day through all this chaos we’ll learn to clear our thoughts. To move beyond the instinct of fight or flight and build a world of collected understanding. 

I hate staying at different places, even if they are familiar. Tonight is my turn to babysit my daughter’s hound while she’s on vacation. You may ask why I don’t just take him to my house? Well let’s just say George isn’t very disciplined and will chase anybody or anything he doesn’t know. I don’t have a fence around my yard and the intersection in front of my house is very busy with truck, car, and pedestrian traffic. So I’ve packed up my stuff for the night to stay at a very comfortable, yet not my house.

Over here it’s even hotter outside than my place, because my daughter’s yard has little shade. So I’m stuck inside with my fan and her AC staring at the popcorn ceiling thinking about how nice it would be to have my toes dangling in some river water. But I can’t complain too much, I mean I’m the one that moved away from the river. The one that cut all contact off with my past. The one that assumed a new identity even though doing so might not have been justified. Not many are brave enough to assume a new identity, a new persona. But I felt the direction I was going wasn’t taking me anywhere. But through all those years of running, it became obvious I was most comfortable just being myself again.
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So over the last decade or so I’ve been picking up the pieces of who I am. Giving them a real good looking at you know. And for the most part I’ve made peace with myself. Accepting my weaknesses and turning my sadness into joy. Not a one of us is perfect and I doubt very seriously if we can ever be made that way. So I look at some of my antics and simply shake my head. Knowing I could do better if I’d tried. You see, that’s where forgiveness comes in. Looking deep inside yourself and seeing what’s really there. And with no flawed judgement giving yourself a pass. Learning from your mistakes and doing better. Yes, at times this doesn’t seem to be my house. But it's the place all the same I call home. 

I finally got a chance to come outside after a morning of running errands and doing housework. Mr. Brown mowed the yard first thing this morning and the scent of the fresh cut grass still fills the air. Maybe I’m just getting crotchety and old, but after a few hours of being on the road and having to meet “people”, I long for the relative quiet of my backyard. We were going to visit the grandbabies, but the youngest is sick with a strep throat. So his older sister is staying with a cousin to keep from catching it. This disappointed Lisa, but neither me nor her needs any more health issues.

Next week I go in for another round of iron infusions. It feels a little awkward doing my treatments at a cancer treatment center. Sitting there trying to occupy my mind while that rusty colored drip seeps into my veins. They’ll be other patients around me. Some smiling with family, whiles others sit there alone and weak. Each being slowly poisoned in order to get better. I don’t know why that bothers me so. I mean, we are all dealing with our own pain and hopefully our treatments will work. I remember clearly my first cardiologist spelling it out to me that things weren’t going to get better. That the damage had been done and that all I could do now was treat myself better for as long as I could.
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So that’s what I’ve been trying to do. Having paused a few moments to read over what I’ve just written. No clear meaning to this comes to mind. I suppose sometimes I just write to be writing? But such as it is, if you’ve read this far, I’m sure you’ve pulled your own meaning from it anyway. So as the afternoon sun burns off what remains of this pleasant morning. I’ll sit here of a moment thinking about nothing but what I see in front of me. Listening to the breeze, that in it's own quiet way speaks peace into my soul. 

One of the hardest things I had to learn after becoming ill is, learning to accept help. Rather it was a ride to the doctor and/or hospital. A daughter picking up our groceries during the Covid lockdown. Or asking for a helping hand when I fall to the ground (it happens more than you think). I suppose pride more than anything kept me from asking for help before then. That in the culture which I was raised, needing a helping hand was considered a sign of weakness.

But all that changed for me a little more than seven years ago when my left lower ventricle practically died. The fatigue and weakness I have since experienced. The bouts with vertigo and the humbling feeling of using a cane and carrying a diaper bag. Definitely knocked the wind out of this proud man’s sails. But through awareness and the willingness to listen to my body, I have learned to accept what I can and cannot do.
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But this doesn’t  have to be seen as a defeat. Most of the time slowing down offers a clearer path to enlightenment and peace. My “downtime” has allowed me to make wiser choices. Seek a greater understanding of myself and the world around me. Still there are those moments when something as simple as replacing a wiring harness, can give a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. So don’t let setbacks make you bitter or angry at the world. Use these opportunities to get better and grow. And maybe some day you’ll turn the lights back on. 

Picture this, it’s barely seven in the morning, my coffee is over on my desk, and Buffy our Calico is asleep on my belly. So I ask myself, what should I do? Should I move Buffer and enjoy my coffee? Ask Lisa to bring the coffee to me? Or just sit here for a few moments and just be? Life has become such a rush. But I doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. Poor old people are glued to their TV’s being scared to death by assholes trying to sell them Depends and extra health insurance.

Libs are scared shitless by open carry proponents who need a gun on their hip like Marshall Dillon. I for one would just love to have a week go by without a doctor’s visit or more blood being drawn. So I lay here while my coffee gets cold without a TV playing or a gun in the house. We are so much like cattle. Just open the gate and we meander our way through life doing what we’ve been told to do. Never looking up to see that our asses are heading straight to the slaughterhouse.
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Are there really that many sides to a coin? Right now is the beginning of another month. There are bills that need to be paid. Obligations that need to be met and more doctor appointments in the coming weeks. But I lay here staring at Buff, she don’t give a shit about any upcoming appointments. She’s just enjoying the moment. There are lessons we can learn here. There are different planes of reality we can go to. I choose this moment to just breathe, me and the cat. The coffee can wait. The bills can wait. The endless obligations. But right now I want to just be.