 Sometimes I’m shocked being the age that I am now. I suppose more than anything it’s because I feel like I got so much more that I want to do. But when your doctors seem to enjoy painting gloomy pictures of your future. You can’t help but become a bit pessimistic about what your options will be. So I peck away at this tiny keyboard while I still can. Knowing good and damn well whatever efforts I’m trying to make will eventually disappear the minute my Microsoft 365 account goes unpaid. Still I type away like a mad man watching a rising tide everyone else refuses to see.
Wasting precious moments in council of strangers. I ignore my own comfort for the comfort those who don’t want to know. Because of some misplaced sense of duty to an unbelieved belief buried deep in my head. That when played back to me makes me regurgitate it’s ironic dogma. After a long search I seek solace in the “nekhamma”, a practice of pleasing the self, a practice that I’m still working to understand. How the truth of no attachment still brings such peace and clarity. I guess that leaves me somewhere between forcing my will on the world or simply letting things go. But right now all that still seems like such an incomplete thought. I mean, why can’t I pursue my passions while pursuing the peace I so desperately seek? Maybe it all lies in the journey itself, leaving that ticking clock and the fear of it behind. So that my steps will lead me to more discoveries of happiness and contentment. All while embracing the pieces that make up the whole of me.
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 It seems like the sun wants to play Peek-A-Boo with me today. Waking up with a shout around 3:30 this morning, laid in bed till around five and took a short nap till around 6:30. As predicted a cold front is heading our way, not by the weather forecaster, but instead by the way my eyes are having trouble focusing. Each and everyday there are telltale signs you learn about yourself, if you take the time to play attention. For me I could tell you all day about the tricks I play on my body to drop weight and reduce cravings which can be harmful to my body.
I can also write all day about how I find peace with my troubled mind and the practices I use to achieve that goal. But I have noticed when reading most step-by-step guides to learning those things. I find the with or without realizing it, most authors sound a bit arrogant, at least to me. now if I have sounded like that to my readers, I apologize for that was not my intent. Still my AI Overload (my writing editor) pushes me to give more detail. But here’s a revolution that came to me while in the bathroom. “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink.” In other words I can babble all day about my triumphs and tragedies. But unto you are ready to help yourself, what good is it listening to me? Lately I’ve been trying to let go of my utter hatred of positive affirmations. Being a stanch unyielding realist I find myself putting little value in positive affirmations. Mostly because I found them to be nothing more than condescending rubbish. But during the last few months with all the housing troubles that we’ve been having. Every now a then a kind word truly given out of concern have been a God send. So as I try and not preach at you (I’ll leave that to the hypocrites that surround me). Be kind to yourself, be aware of the things that wrench you peace of mind, and each other unconditionally.  It’s only ten o’clock in the morning and I felt like I’ve crossed three times zones. First it was the crack of dawn and clearing, then it was rainy and cloudy, and by the time I got to the diagnostic lab it cloudy and foggy. Now that I’m back home (at least till mid-December) it’s cloudy, damp, and cold. But my weather app claims it’s not supposed to rain till tomorrow, but if you know me you know how much I own stock in that.
It feels like any other Wednesday with the exception of some out of town contractors having already left for the holiday. I remember doing contract work and getting the long holiday off. Clearing out the motel room for the long drive home. Trying to spend as much time as I could with my family, before making the long lonely ride back to the job site. Boots is wrestling with the fringed stings of an old throw blanket I washed getting ready for our big move. Our lives feel a bit nomadic in that every ten years or so we pull up stakes and move someplace totally different. Without genuine roots moving feels like you’re always leaving apart of yourself. Maybe it something as simple as an old pair of shoes or an old hotel receipt from that summer vacation. Mementos that for a moment made you feel like somebody and not just a visitor in town. So while this next move is again a temporary residence with a one year lease. We’ll do the best we can to truly feel at home.  I didn’t want to wake up angry, but after a violent bowel movement, stopping the washing machine from tearing itself apart, and finding wet dirty clothes mixed with clean clothes. You can say I’m in a pretty foul mood. With the skies outside clouding up for the upcoming showers, me and Buffy are stuck in the room stewing over a shitty, yet seemingly correct horoscope. But there I feel better now getting that off my chest. Without a news site, email, or text message open; I’m sitting here working on my Zen listening compassionately to myself.
Yesterday was fairly productive I spent part of the day chasing down who will hopefully be our new landlord. Having her reassure me to our application was fine that she’s still waiting on corporate to okay it. Meanwhile I sit on a ticking timebomb of my own creation worrying about things beyond my control. And that, my friend may be the gist of this story. A dear friend mentioned in an IG post, “If it doesn’t honor peace, my growth, or my magic. I’m out”. Remembering does works definitely strikes a cord with my soul. For far too long I have been allowing the “What If’s” of life rob me of my joy. As a realist it’s hard to accept any kind of good news without shoring up my backside for whatever backlash my fouled up optimism will bring. I’m sorry but that’s just the way I’m wired. In the business I was called “The Boy Scout” because I was always prepared for the worst case scenario. It is also the way I prep myself for the disappointments of life. It’s my shield, my armor against any form of attack. And believe me when I tell you I was attacked a lot. But in my Pseudo-Buddhist practice I call on the energy of nature (God) to remind me that “This to shall past”. Clearing my mind and through awareness I am able (most of the time) to just chill out. In closing with whatever faith you practice, if any. Don’t bury the pain free yourself and focus on connection and the symmetry of it all.  Warmed by the rising sun, the dew on the ground nourishes the fading green grass. Anticipating a long winter nap, the seasonal plants and trees await their pruning, by the stewards of the earth appointed by God. Sitting in the relative quiet with the occasional car passing and the distant sound of loggers clearing some land. I am reminded that this to shall pass leaving me with the gift of another peaceful day.
Waxing philosophically is all that’s left in my arsenal. From a life scattered with both joy and tragedy, taking me to the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. But at the moment I am at rest. The troubles that weigh on my heart are tamped down for the moment. Giving me a reprieve from the obvious troubles that surround me. So I must be patient as I hear the distant sound of the geese flying above. With the stubborn sound woodpecker as it continues to hammer away at that power pole in the corner of the yard. I love writing, it’s a gift I long suppressed. It’s just unfortunate that my way I express myself has fallen out of favor to the quick quotes and shocking memes of today. I guess it shouldn’t matter, I don’t have the stamina to entertain a large following anyway. If nothing else my art brings me incredible joy, and in the end that’s what matters. So live in your moment. Rather you thrive in silence and grace or the noise and confusion of the modern world. Find your joy, as I wish you another peaceful day.  It’s a dewy wet morning outside. I spoke with my father-in-law as I usually do on Sunday morning. He is doing well telling me about his holiday plans. I on the other hand will continue packing for our eventual move from our current home. I can’t seem to nail down an exact date of our move so I can get utilities, and such switched over seamlessly. Still other than that it’s a quiet morning with a little traffic moving down the highway. While my neighbor’s the Baptist another morning of Sunday worship.
I’ve written several pieces over the past few weeks, but nothing really seemed worth publishing . They were mostly journal pieces where I was mostly venting more frustration than anything else. And while some may say, “That hasn’t stopped you before posting about that before.” I don’t know, I guess I’m just trying to be a little “cheerier” when it comes to my circumstance and attitude. As I delve deeper into a more Zen-like state of mind, I’m not trying to fool myself by looking through “rose colored glasses”. Instead I am working on not being so controlling or possessive. Thereby freeing myself from the fear and worry that ego often places on the heart. It doesn’t mean I’m any less empathetic, it just means that I take on a less “what if” view, by seeing things as they are and remembering nothing is permanent. So as I sit outside as much as I can, knowing that soon I’ll be more confined in an apartment. But still that doesn’t stop me from remaining hopefully that more opportunities for peace and reflection will come my way.  There are moments when I believe God just doesn’t like me. Now my hardened Christian friends and family would probably say, “It’s because I don’t keep his commandments” or at the very least that, “I’m just a backslidden heathen” (that what my wife likes to say). Well all that may be true but if you check my record I think I’m a pretty good guy. But then my religious loved ones would most certainly reply, “Without Jesus you’re still just filthy rags”. (Isaiah 64:6)
My feelings about God have never really changed, but my attitude towards organized religion definitely has. Some will argue “You should look towards the Lord and not man”. But like a good friend once told me, “They might point one finger towards you, but there’s three fingers pointed back at them”. But I didn’t come into this holiday season to pick a fight. Such shenanigans are just low hanging fruit that only leads to anger and strife. What I’d rather say despite the forecast for rain is that I’m only out here enjoying God’s creation with wind and mild, partly cloudy skies. Now my day didn’t start off great, for one I couldn’t sleep, and I was having painful cramps in my abdomen. To write another sad sob story really wouldn’t do anyone any good. While at the same time carrying your misery in your pocket isn’t going to do you any good either. So despite this being the 161st anniversary of the Gettysburg address and my birthday. I suppose I’m due a foul day. So do I have the right to blame “God”? Honestly the only person I can really blame is myself more than anyone else.  Candler-Telfair Women's Hospital Image From: Georgiaencyclopedia.org It’s about an hour away from my birth date. At approximately 3:36 on the morning of November 19, I was born at Candler-Telfair Women’s Hospital in Savannah Georgia. My mom was just 17 years old when I was born. And despite rumors to the contrary, my parents were married for over a year before I was born. You may ask how I know all this information. It’s because I’m sure our mother at one time or another told me, my sister, and our little brother our birth stories at some point.
It's funny how the years keep rolling by and that now I am three years older than my parents were when they passed. That thought often weighs heavy on my mind. Thinking about all the events my parents missed, the proms, the graduations, the weddings, and the great-grandchildren. I mean you look up to your parents for so long. Then it’s like, you’ve grown beyond them in a way. My kids often think I’m crazy bring up the past like I do. But I want them to grow up with the same since of family history like I did. Now I’m walking into retirement with my fading heart and my Walmart cane. I talk a lot about legacy knowing now my parents did they best they could. While I sit here in the dark worrying that I wasn’t the best parent that I could. But I’m proud of my kids, they are all doing a lot better than me when I was their age. So who knows maybe on some distant family holiday me I’ll get a kind mention. Mostly because my wife will live to be 106. Hopefully their kids will see them as good role models. So as the clock slowly ticks away to 3:36am, I’ll just keep these things to myself. But maybe, just maybe they’ll be a time when they’ll read my words.  With my back turned towards the sun, I’m sitting outside with a bottle of Gatorade next to me. Not thinking about much, having just finished up a visit at my PCP’s office. I had to catch her up on what all the specialists have been doing (even though it was her office that scheduled all the appointments in the first place). I also had to do some more blood work for her which I had already done twice last week. But they did give me a urine sample cup to deposit to them later (I threw it in the trash). So now I’m sitting here staring at a sycamore tree listening to my wife fuss at a cat. Reminding myself that the sun will still rise and fall with or without their help.
With the usual morning traffic passing by me, I wonder if they every give a second thought about me sitting under this fig bush. I highly doubt it answering my own question. A genuine response I’m sure we all would make on any given day. As a mindfulness practitioner one of the things I notice that often surprises me the most is watching people going about their day like they don’t have a thought in their head. You know, kinda like when you’re driving, but you can’t recall a single thing about the trip. It’s sorta sad in a way. But even in my mindfulness practice I find myself doing the same thing. But then there are the moments of near perfect clarity where the whole thing just seems to come into focus. Where I understand what my purpose is and what I need to do to achieve it. I hope that’s now it is for a lot people, but realistically I know it’s probably not. I still here under the partial shade given off by the branches with a tiny yellow jacket buzzing around my head. I could swat at it, but it ain’t bothering me so why should I bother it. We all must maintain a certain balance giving ourselves a moment of peace even when things just seem upside down.  My dear sweet wife has the unique ability to tear things up. While hanging out clothes this morning she torn down the clothesline for the ten thousandth time. But this time I watched her and discovered she grabs the clothesline to keep her balance and sometimes pulls it down. I’m not really complaining (at least not now) but it does solve a ten year old mystery. Anyway, the line has been fixed and I got the clothes hung out… Yeah!
I know that was petty to bring up such a trivial to waste your precious time reading. I guess it would be far easier to load my story on a tic tack video so I could get two or three likes. But I am old so I still live in a world of words. Where despite my disability (dyslexia) I’d rather take the time to choose my words carefully. Anyway, it’s a bright cloudless Sunday morning and I’m watching my good Baptist neighbors gathering to worship their one true god (the g is lower case for a reason). But that’s water under the bridge and soon I’ll finally be gone. Back to the big city where I don’t have to drive 50+ miles to the grocery store, the drug store, or the doctor. But what I will lose is the serenity of a small town, but I’ll still get to keep the apparent hostility just without the “politeness”. I’ve created a number of posts lately where I have vented my frustration over my current situation. I’m just trying to remind myself that petty anger and jealousy gets you nowhere. Just as I've learned to accept my wife's many quirks, I must also give that same hand of grace to my small-town neighbors. We all have our own unique ways of living, and judgment of others only leads to division and hurt. By learning to agree to disagree, we create a more tolerable community. Hostility and paranoia only creates more pain, maybe I should be delivering the sermon next door? |
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October 2025
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