Without a lot of people to talk to I suppose I’m just left talking to myself. I’m a pretty good conversationalist, but oftentimes what I’m going to say is usually fairly predictable. It’s the close of another October afternoon and there’s not a cloud in the sky. The youngins across the road, in the fancy brick house with the big wooden fence, are putting on a show. Screaming and yelling at one another, while their mother and apparently their father (?), are bringing up the chorus.

A close relative of mine mentioned over the weekend they have another grandbaby on the way. This will be their daughter’s fourth child and they’re worry about how she can afford another little one. I stay closed month on that subject considering we had four “door step” kids ourselves. But I definitely understand her dilemma rather she does now or not. But life’s full of seemingly boring choices. With consequences that don’t seem like much at first, but can turn into some major shit shows before it’s all said and done. I get to wrestle with these kinds of choices everyday. But somehow I get a little lucky sometimes and eventually something good comes out of it.
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There are those of us that fret over every decision, every move. And in the long run, we usually end up regretting our choices either way. But just like those little ones across the way, screaming in crescendo, while their daddy’s growling and chasing them across the yard. We have to have faith that whatever choices we’ve made, are the choices we can live with. Attitude and a healthy perspective are important when dealing with the things life hands us. Fair or unfair, they are the things that will either save us or take us down. 

It’s the late afternoon, I napped for a few hours after a rough night my sleeping. Outside it’s still fairly warm hovering around the low 80’s. There’s a slight breeze blowing and the birds are chattering away like it’s springtime. From somewhere I catch the lightest scent of flowers, contrasted with the tamped down noise of highway traffic. I’m not thinking of much other the images you sent. Nothing provocative, just that sly smile you always give.

We know what we know. Painted on faces with well managed personas all dictating what we want to be seen. A performance we’ve put on so many times from the training we received when we were young. I guess that’s one of your qualities that holds me so. Knowing that with each other we see through the showmanship and really get each other. Still there’s an element of fear that pulls us back. A chain-linked fence that let’s us see in, but still protects.

But this isn’t meant as a criticism of you and our relationship, but more of an understanding. That beneath the surface of bravado lies the root of our desire. Where a mere physical relationship isn’t enough. Where dependents and need are eclipsed by confidence and admiration. Allowing us to love from a far and yet carry no fear of abandonment. Patience is our strongest weapon against the forces of fear. We know where we stand. We know each other. Through the good and the bad, we walk together alone. 

Who would have thought it would take me this long to get comfortable in my own skin. A dreamer by trade I was brought up to appreciate the spiritual more so then the physical world. Lost on occasion to the obligations of life. I have recently found myself tasting again the bitter fruit of good and evil, without so much as a nibble of the tree of life. Rambling deeper into the dark rabbit hole that is my soul. I can’t help but ask more questions than I can answer. But such as it is with us over thinkers and our big old brains.

I don’t claim to be a wise man just a dreamer of sorts. Making wishes and hoping for the best, while my neighbors only seem to wish to hate each others guts. But all’s quiet under the sycamore tree if you just allow it. While the turnips and the mustard in the garden struggle to take root. At the edge of my senses, I hear children playing, I smell the leaves burning, and see the loggers just trying finding there way home. The pyramids were built for no better reason than why we paste our own vanity filling up our driveways. To make ourselves feel more important than we really are.
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So we hold our own, and allow ourselves to get swallowed up by the mundane. While just beneath the surface pure joy and satisfaction await. I walked through the park earlier today noting nothing special in the browning leaves of the trees. What did kind of excite me was seeing all the families gathered around the different areas celebrating birthdays and reunions. For you see more than fame or knowledge or even peace of mind; there’s a certain contentment in the appreciated and the communal. For we are all way more similar than we are different. An inconvenient truth, some don’t wish you to know.  

​Usually it’s nothing more than the tiniest drop can cause a ripple. A ripple that spreads to the farthest reaches of the pond. Within my mind that ripple spreads, nothing major just an insignificant twinge or feeling. That spreads like dry kindling through my mind. Igniting thousands of tiny fires of fear that can flare up like an uncontrollable blaze. That takes my entire being hours to put out. Leaving me too spent and exhausted to do much of anything else.
It started with nothing but my constant getting up and going to the bathroom. Then there’s the twitching and cramping in my hand and arm. Then there’s the small traces of blood that come from blowing my nose. Each little thing insignificant, yet inconvenient enough to awaken me from a deep sleep. Was that a twinge of my heart? It feels as of it’s slowing down. So there it is tiny dustings of the truth that seed the fear and feed the panic in my soul.
If you dig into my early work, you find stories such as these, only in greater depth and far less control. At the moment I know what is happening. I’ve spent decades of my life avoiding and facing this time and time again. And yet in these nearly 25 years of diagnosis, I still can’t give you the solution. Oh, I can show you formulas, methods, and medications I’ve used. But nothing near what I would call a definitive answer. So I lay here restlessly typing away, giving you my priest my confession. Hammering out with all the honesty I can muster my story of interconnection. Of how, my heart, my mind, and my body are effected by the tiny fires burning in the deepest parts of my brain. 

The ground is covered in sycamore and fig leaves, and there’s a certain crispness in the air. I’m sitting outside for the first time in a while, listening to the birds and the squirrels. While off in the distance I can hear the roar of log trucks and other traffic heading down the highway. My fingers are cold and the keyboard a little sensitive to my touch as I search for the words to describe this day.

I don’t know exactly what’s going through my mind other than what I’ve already described. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this; nothing mystical mind you, just open to what awareness is bringing me. We waste so much time trying to describe out lives beyond what we can see. I’ve spent so much time just trying to figure shit out. But maybe it's not up to us try to figure anything out. Maybe life simple flows how it flows.
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For a moment give yourself the freedom to just accept things as they are. Then listen to the voice that’s buried deep in your soul. If you feel balance and harmony, then everything’s okay. But if something feels out of place, then search yourself and your surroundings for the answer. A simple breath is often all I need to know peace. There’s a certain grace in silence, don’t just sit there and deny yourself the pleasure or the company. 

After a weekend of being under the weather, my body’s still recuperating. Despite how good I may feel at any given moment, my body often likes to remind of what kinda shape I’m really in. The energy to get around just isn’t there anymore. I mean people look at me and tell me how much better I look. But honestly, whatever weight loss or other things I’ve achieved, I get run down really easily. So I spend much of my day piddling about trying to fight off the boredom of getting older.

I don’t mean to sound so blasé or defeated. But I prefer not trying to fool myself with some inflated expectation of how I feel. I guess what surprises other people the most is that despite my best efforts to remain honest. I don’t drag myself down deeper into the abyss of depression through my honesty. I suppose more than anything it’s my practice of mindfulness and honest engagement with myself that helps. It probably also has a lot to do with my stubbornness and arrogance to win. Awareness of who I am and knowing my limitations, doesn’t hurt either.
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I mean I wish I knew a patented method of teaching y’all how I do this. But I’m sure my damaged ego and id would lock horns on what works best. So I just sit around writing my autobiographical gibberish hoping someone can pull some little bit of truth out of it. My focus isn’t so much on the nuances of life, as much as, simple surviving it. While I do keep a few pleasures close to my heart. Unfortunately most of my time is spent caring for others. But the fight seems to be getting harder to wage, because with each passing moment the spectre of fear and worry must be tamped down. If not, all I have ever fought for becomes nothing more than myth. 

​The room is heavy with the scent of a vanilla candle. There's no sound other than the spinning of a box fan. Buffy’s perched on her throne, licking my fingers as I brush back her fur. Of all the mindfulness training I’ve received, this is where I’m most comfortable. Laying in my bed making short deliberate strokes along the cat’s fur. I don’t consider myself a classical practitioner of mindfulness and meditation. I don’t burn stinky incense or have any little statues of Buddha laying around. I just have myself and the silence between me and nature.

Between me, the cat, and the silence; there is still an undercurrent of anxiety I feel. For some reason people seem to want to deliver surprising news to me when I’m at my most vulnerable. I guess for a normal person most of the news is great and joyous. It’s just that I seem to get it first because I am at my most vulnerable physically. It’s  like they want me to know before I “kick the can” or something. So needless to say, it happened again. I was given some news before anyone else… just in case.

But I’m really not worried about it. I suppose I deserve this after scaring everyone the death over the last several years. And maybe for some people it’s a wise decision, given once you’ve been handed a death sentence. Oh quit groaning (insert eye roll). My point is, not everything’s a death sentence nor is it an excuse to just give up. You see I accepted the words I been given. I absorbed them and I take them to heart. Then I create a plan to overcome whatever trials and tribulations I’m facing. While my plans may not be perfect, at least it’s a plan and not excuse to just lay down and die.

Just sayin’.

Growing up I was full of doubt and fear, but at the same time I had the gift of bluster. It was my go to defense mechanism when fear and abuse was overtaking me. Because people can be cruel, especially when you’re young. But over the decades I had to learn to be strong. Now that I had a family had to quickly learn to be the strong one. It’s just that as my family grew older; what many see as a valued quality, became a cruel ploy to manipulate others. Being the strong one has it’s advantages. You cool under fire, have greater awareness, and seem to be a natural leader. But that being said, you can be overbearing, closed-minded, as well as abusive. In fact it can end up just as abusive as the ones that abused you.

I often show little patience with those around me, especially when a challenging situation rears its ugly head. Like I said, it’s considered a noble quality to those that admire strength. But I’ve seen the flip side of the coin, where drive and determination often wrecks fragile hearts. I’m doing my best to be more compassionate but often the fire brand of survival gets the best of me. And while it may seem admirable to pull one’s self up by the bootstraps. In reality it’s a quality that beyond just yourself come be abusive and aloof.  

You know I may be wrong about all this, but as I search my soul for greater peace and understanding, it seems vividly clear. While we all need to carry a certain amount of drive and determination. When we allow that bravado to override our decency and compassion, who are really helping? I like to think I’ve grown a lot over the years. But when growth continues to bury deeper that damaged child, have we really solved any of our problems? I don’t know, this is just shit I been asking myself the past day or so. Especially with all the crazy going on around me at the moment.  ​

​Well I’m up. It’s 4:02 in the morning and I would be getting up at five anyway to head to Savannah. The doctor changed my surgery schedule to today instead of yesterday as planned. So instead of spending a few days with friends and family, I simply came back home. This is supposed to be a day surgery so I assume after a few hours in recovery I’ll be shipped back to the house. A fun filled 125+ mile drive mostly on a two lane country road.

I’m not nervous or really anxious, I guess I’m more impatient than anything else. Simply ready to get this whole thing over with and done. I wish I could dole out some shining pearls of wisdom before I go. But all I can really say is that I’m fine. I’ve gathered all the information I could on the procedure, both pro and con. The doctor seems confident, almost a little cocky if I may say. But he’s a kid so I’d rather see that then see his hands shaking.

To all y’all that are worried shitless, take a breath. Say your prays and burn your letters, whatever gets you through. Over the past 40+ years I haven’t had the luxury of being allowed to worried or be nervous. I’m usually in the middle of the conflict trying to steer the damn ship. Making sure everyone else is alright. I know, I’m stoic to a fault, doing what I has to do to keep this boat afloat. Anyway, give me a little time to recover. Hopefully I won’t have to put out anymore fires this weekend. So y’all take care, I’m about ready to get dressed and put on a show.

Between the bathroom and the bed, I don’t know rather I’m coming or going. While in between I’m pounding “Depeche Mode: Live in Berlin” into my ears. As you can tell it’s just a normal night here with the TV on mute and my earbuds firmly in place. Lisa’s running a little late getting to bed because she’s watching “Dancing with the Stars” on the big screen. And, I’m here taking a moment to jot down a few thoughts about where I am at the moment.

You’d think with my upcoming heart procedure I’d be a little anxious. Don’t ask me why, but some things (like medical stuff) often don’t bother me. Now driving down to Savannah, that bothers me. Sleeping in a strange bed for a few nights, that bothers me. But having a doctor run a tube up my artery and kill nerves in my heart… I’m okay with that. It’s funny how the mind works sometimes. It’s also funny how time passes and changes us without us even realizing it.
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I was recently looking at some old photographs of myself and I was shocked at changes between now and then. To be honest, both images showed the consequences of an unhealthy lifestyle. Displaying how self-hatred and abuse can take there toll. But over the past decade I’ve done a lot of self-reflection. Through that deep drive into my psyche I’ve learned acceptance and forgiveness are key to my survival. So in this hour let us remember, awareness, faith, and a little selfishness go a long way in creating the balance we need to make it another day.