A few years ago, I made peace with my mortality while laying on a hospital gurney in the emergency room of Meadows Regional Hospital. Once the cardiologist was certain I had at least one heart attack, I got wheeled around the hospital for tests, x-rays, and I think an MRI. My home for the next seven days was the PCU, where I had five IVs were inserted filling me with various lifesaving medications. By the time my little vacation had ended, I had received a stent for a closed blood vessel. And I also had to wear a heart monitor-defibrillator for the next six months, which I appropriately named “Bob”. 

It’s been nearly five years since Bob and I parted ways. I’ve made a few more trips back to my friends at MRH for various other heart related issues. But life has been interesting and life has been good during this time. As I said, I had made peace with one of my greatest fears, mortality. I mean I knew for most of my life was in sad shape both physically and mentally. And while the mental part was improving a little at the time. My physical health was beginning to catch up with me. So the seeds of my eventual death had become a full grown tree. 
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The worry I had for my family, weighed heavy on my mind. The upcoming birth of our first grandchild also weighed on my soul. But now with my focus on my recovery, the leftover baggage of fear was taking a backseat to a desire to live. It seems the teachings of Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh were finally taking root. I learned that the only moment I could change was the one I was living in now. So yeah, a lot of things have changed since then, I’m a bit heathier, my attitude is more focused, and I’m pretty content with my place in life. We all have our worries, but awareness and gratitude are your best weapons for living a peaceful more satisfying life. 

Is achievement any more important than the wind in your face? Are possessions any more valuable than peace of mind? You see, I spent nearly a lifetime trying to prove myself worthy. By chasing everything from money, to toys, to fame, and even respect. But when I found myself achieving any of these goals, I only found myself wanting more.

While it is easy for me to use my troubled background, my mental health problems, and my current physical situation, as a reason way I must achieve. In a way these problems have been my blessing. They have taught me the importance of patience. The value of peace of mind. And the hidden truth that compassion is the most important attribute of them all.
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Now you may or may not agree with what I’m saying, and that’s okay. Because I doubt, if any of you are going to change my mind. Just know that what I'm telling you is to be your authentic self. With no veneer to polish or anymore lies to live. Because the value you place on yourself, is the greatest gift you can give to you.
 

What a world of difference between yesterday and today. Yesterday was really peaceful, with a hint of wind blowing. Today I got weedeaters going next door with a group of EMC employees trying to holler over the noise. But that’s okay, it’s just another typical Monday in downtown Alamo. You would think all this racket would bother me, but after living in a house full of kids who don’t know how to knock, this ain’t shit.

Mr. and Mrs. Brown are pulling up the last of the dried sunflowers, popping off the heads for seed. I suppose it won’t be long till they’re planting again. I’d be surprised if he plants something before mid-august considering the heat. On a cloudless day like today, the sun can beat a good man. But the toils of the honest are seldom appreciated, though must needed by the elite.
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It’s a little hard to look over a barren piece of ground without dreaming of the reward. Of a harvest of richness and bounty. It’s just that many of us aren’t willing to make the sacrifice to see those dreams through. What I wouldn’t give for the energy of my youth. To know the things, I know today. But each generation has to learn its lesson, believing it’s better than the past. Till then I’ll just sit here watching the clothes dry, grateful for another day. 

It’s 3:15 in the afternoon, and we just had a little flash thunderstorm. But now, some thirty minutes later, it’s back to a warm breeze and partly cloudy skies. Welcome to South Georgia in the summer time. I found me a nice little piece of shade under the sycamore tree. And after a day of disasters, I finally said f*ck it and came outside. But days are what they are. Some good, some bad, but each having a life of its own.
 
Right now, I’m just breathing out a little bit of the tension I’ve experienced today. Normally I would just lay down under the AC. But with the comfort that it brings, the confinement can become stifling. So here I sit among the twisting leaves, the smell of passing car exhaust, and the ripening figs. Not thinking about much of nothing, just focusing on one word at a time.
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A passing ambulance speeds down the highway, a subtle reminder of the many trips I’ve taken. Feeling the stubble across my face, the moments of my life can be measured in the lines across my face. So how do you measure time? As an endless string of days that run one into another? Or in the present moment where leaves shiver under the force of the wind? Either way it’s your time. It’s your choice. So choose wisely, what your day will bring.

It’s only 9:30 in the morning and it’s already 83°. So it looks to be another hot and sweaty one. But that breeze from yesterday, is still blowing out of the southeast. So I have a little faith it won’t be as humid as it could be. I got up around five o’clock this morning, checked my messages, and read my paper. Nothing much going on, other than the patients still running the asylum.

I went into town around seven, picked up a few groceries for the week. Then came home and got two loads of clothes washed. Now I’m sitting under the sycamore tree desperately hiding from the sun. But as the sun rises into the trees, I’m reminded of my construction days running heavy equipment on this island in the Savannah River. We’d get there before dawn, fuel up our equipment, then sit on top of our DJBs while they warmed up, and watch the sunrise.
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Looking out across the river the city was just waking up. Container ships were making their way to port, while the lights of the city reflected across the water. Memories are often simple reminders of long forgotten truths. That as hard as the work was, working daylight to dusk. There were still quite satisfactions to be found in the day.
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As I feel myself waste away under this relentless heat. I still smell the ripening figs, watch the cat pounce on the leaves, and in the distant hear the noise of a trash truck. All reminding me that this too will eventually become a distant memory. To be locked away and remembered when more troubles come my way. 

After a long day of driving in 98° weather and hiding in my room, I’m finally going outside. We got a little breeze blowing out of the southeast and the dew point is at 67°. All day long I’ve been trying to come up with something to say. But after a week of imprisonment in my room, windows blackened, AC and fan blasting; there just ain’t much to say. Sadly, for those of us “at risk” this is the world in which we live.

But as I looked out the bathroom window, I noticed the wind had picked up. So against my better angels, I found some shade and sit outside. It’s only mid-July and the oppressive heat of August has already hit with a vengeance. So while the wind is hot, it’s dry and a welcomed respite from the chilled air in a room with no light. But I got my glass of iced lemon tea with me, and the occasional sweet smell of the petunias. 
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As the cicadas start to sing, I’m reminded that living in a bubble only leads to isolation and paranoia. With the pandemic and the insane rhetoric of the day being slung around like horseshit against the barn door. It’s no wonder so many live in fear. It’s sad to see how the gift interconnectivity has been defiled to become this instant hate machine, that divides us instead of uniting us. But as I sit here finger touching the keypad, I’m reminded that there’s more to life than just “likes” and “clicks”. That just outside the door is a world that still turns and still breathes as it has for millions of years. 

I’ve hit a bit of a dry patch these last few days. My thoughts have been racing in one senseless extreme to another. I’d start to think about something, then as quickly as it came, it’s gone. I suppose that’s a good thing because; it gives me the opportunity to read other writers work, without the hindrance of thinking of my own.
 
Artist often fear dry spells, but over the years I’ve learned to be at peace with them. Knowing that eventually as quickly as they come, they often fade away. As artist our work often feels like a fire. Sweeping through our brains consuming all the creativity we have. We don’t want to stop. Often, we get upset when we are interrupted. Creating inspiration for others, while at the same time abandoning those we love.
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I have no real solution for this, other than to say remain aware. So maybe that’s why we have dry spells. To remind us that life isn’t all self-reflection. But also, about reconnecting with those we know most intimately. To appreciate the sacrifices, they make. Having to live with our creativity. 

I checked the weather this morning and this going to be a blistering 97° today. At the moment it’s 73° with the dew point at 69°. For most of you dew points might not mean much. But here in the deep south, it determines hair style, clothing choices, and rather you’re going to leave the house at all. At the moment a few gnats have figured out my location. But a slight breeze is keeping them to a low roar.

Outside I can hear the world cranking up after a hot weekend. Log trucks are rolling down the highway with their first loads of the day. While the lawyers in their expensive cars pass by heading to the courthouse. Most everyone else got to work before I woke up, considering all the ag, prison, and customer service jobs are far out of town. Still life rolls on and people get by as best they can. The sacrifices that have to be made in this “new reality” are hard, but at least big businesses are getting bailed out by the bucket full.
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As I sit here and adjust to my new reality, things are moving at warp speed. I’m pushing 60, my kids all but one in their 30’s, and who the hell knows where I’ll be in a few years. But right now, I’m not too worried about that. Because I can hear a barn owl calling from the oaks, the constant clicking of the cicadas in the trees. While in the background I hear the roar of the semis rolling across the highway called life. 

When life treats you like you own a lemon farm. It’s hard to handle good fortune without a twinge of doubt. But for the last few months, things have been going pretty well for me, both financially and physically. Contentment is a strange word to me. Especially since I’ve spent the better part of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. So I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but I wasn’t quite sure how I’d tell the story.

When you’ve been called a loser or four-eyed fat boy all your young life. It starts to sink in that maybe they are right. That I am a loser, because I am a four-eyed, left-handed, asthmatic, that can’t do or say anything right. Words hurt and they leave really deep scars. To the point that where even good things in your life start to look like a scam. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve achieved a personal goal, only to be let down by my feelings of inadequacy.
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I wish I had some magical truth that could wipe all these emotions out of my brain. But unfortunately, I still deal with this shit every day. All I can tell you is to be aware. When those seeds of doubt come up in your head, let them be heard. Don’t try and squish them out. Because that only pushes the pain even deeper. By giving the pain a voice, you acknowledge the hurt, then you can accept it, then you’re able to forgive others as well as yourself. Maybe it sounds silly or even a little “new agey”. Still it beats the alternative of hating yourself and eventually those around you. So try a little acceptance and forgiveness, you never know what it might do.

​It would have been so simple to just stay in the house. My head feels dizzy, my throat’s sore, and eyes ache. Other than that, everything’s peachy. But there is a nice breeze blowing out of the southeast. So given the choice between laying in a dark room or sitting under a canopy of green, I’ll take on the occasional gnat and go outside. In order to live our lives, we usually put up with a lot of shit. And while I do seem to complain a lot, I do appreciate being able to get up each morning and breathe.

I feel like I’ve lived more than one lifetime. I want from idealistic dreamer that thought he could change the world. To a newly married man, living out the American dream. To a broken man stripped to the core of what he thought was love. Back to a believer in love, raising a family. Only to breakdown mentally not knowing which way was up. To end up a stripped-down version of my former self. That learned to treat myself better, despite all the strikes against me.

You’d think that would be enough to fill a book. Well, I’ve written five of them. To say I have a lot of hootspa, maybe an understatement. But much like life I’m ever evolving, seemingly changing with the wind. Some may see that as a bad thing, but if you think about it, change is just a natural part of our evolution. Never stay satisfied with where you are. Don’t be afraid of change, for comfort can also mean complacency when mixed with pride. Do not allow arrogance to steal your compassion. A willingness to change is the engine that drives one towards happiness and understanding.