the public version

2011-05-03T16:35:00.001-06:00

sink

2011-03-01T17:30:00.001-07:00

I was never told there would be days like this.

Everything is fine on the surface, and nothing has happened that is unusual. I almost feel like I want to walk out into the desert and just disappear. Of course that would probably only cause more problems though. I have no excuse to feel like this. I have a life better than any I could have dreamed up. I am healthy, and I function reasonably well in this world. I have a very special woman in my life who loves me far more than I deserve. I have been relieved of a deadly affliction that kills most people afflicted with it. I have all this stuff going for me and yet I feel totally empty at the moment.

My best diagnosis of the problem, is that I feel as though I don’t deserve any of the good things in my life, and I feel incapable of holding on to any of them. The Buddha said that all suffering stems from the attachment to things of this world and the delusion of permanence. I wish I could find some solace in that. It is like I was saved from a terrible fall by grabbing on to a limb, only to know that my hold will fail, and I am doomed to fall anyway, and possibly breaking the tree apart in the process.

I don’t know what to do. I pray. I have faith that this feeling will pass, as all previous ones have, but right now it seems to be gripping me so tightly that I can barely breathe. If I could do some work, and accomplish something I might be able to beat it into submission, but I am almost paralyzed by the thought that I will fail and only fall deeper into this conundrum.

To Be Continued….

Birthday

2011-02-07T09:20:00.002-07:00

Thirty-three years old. This adulthood thing still doesn’t make all that much sense to me, but it isn’t so bad. It seems as though the past couple of years I have just been sort of floating downstream and watching the sun peek through the cottonwoods overhead. It’s easy so long as I remember to relax and keep breathing.

This past year has been unlike any that has come before. I have made a partner, and I am slowly learning how to live my life in conjunction with someone else. At first it was a little strange, and vestiges of my isolated mindset kept trying to get me back to solitude, but this new lifestyle is slowly becoming comfortable and the love I have for my girl has eclipsed my selfish motivations for the most part. It is strange to learn how to open my life to someone after a decade of pushing everyone away. She really does make me want to be a better person; not to change who I am, but to improve who I am.

Life is funny. My adolescence was so full of pride and contempt that I thought it would never leave me. I thought I was destined to walk through life fighting everyone and everything that pushed me in any direction but the one I was headed in. I pounded my fists against the wall only to turn around one day to find that nobody was watching anymore. At some point, I opened my eyes and found that I had surrendered, and in doing so I had been lifted by a current that continues to carry me into experiences more amazing and comforting than my best childhood daydreams. I like where my life is carrying me.

I am not the best at anything, and my ignorance leaves a lot of room for me to grow. I am grateful for that. My expectations and entitlements were dropped with my pain. I feel as though I am past my expiration date, but nobody has noticed yet, and I continue to thrive. Each day is a day I am not owed. Each experience is a measure of grace. I did nothing to deserve this life, or all of the splendid people in it, but that won’t stop me from soaking up every last drop of love in this world that I can find.

I want to thank you. I want to thank this world for everything that you have taught and given me. Someday this body will shrivel and fall, but this life will always be, and it will always be amazing.

tattoos

2010-11-15T13:07:00.001-07:00

This collection of days, and this scratched up mind of mine, often seem incompatible with the present moment.

In this flat light it is hard to tell where I stand.

I walk past a building, or a space that holds some ghost of an emotion, and it seems like I am still there, hanging in the past.

A face conjures up some draft of an idea that I am unable to reconcile with the current circumstances.

I was so broken… so utterly irredeemable, and yet here I am; all shiny and new. I wear matching clothes and I pretend not to know how transparent my mask has become.

Everything is on the surface, so that it blends in with the passing of the seasons. I wear the loss of alternatives just like a bad tattoo.

But everyone seems to have tattoos these days.

Gallatin

2010-10-14T19:25:00.000-06:00

I got out of the rental car at about ten in the morning on the bank of the Gallatin. I had to put the smart phone down as I couldn’t stop looking at my work emails. When I got my waders on, and the rod put together, I was hoping that I could find a place to cross the river and just get off the beaten path. I definitely got what I was looking for.

About half a mile upstream from where I parked, the river was broken into at least ten different channels by a large beaver dam that created a spider web of small meandering streams that spread across a marshy, isolated wonderland of blue sky, green reeds, crystal clear water, and vibrant, lively spotted trout.

After about two hours of winding my way through the reeds and staring into the water, I realized I was lost. I had no idea which direction my car was, or how long it would take me to get there. I just knew I had to follow the current back downstream. Right about the time I started walking, I noticed that the bottom of the stream I was standing next to seemed to be moving. My breathing actually stopped for at least thirty seconds when I realized I was staring down at about forty trout lining the bottom of the creek that each measured at least twenty inches in length.

It was at that moment, that every single remnant of stress I had ever had in my life was completely removed from me. I was a child in God’s universe. I was precisely where I was supposed to be at that moment, and I knew nothing but absolute joy.

I only caught one of those fish, and I let him go, but I never plan to let go of that amazing moment, in this perfect day. I even made my flight.

Chester

2010-09-29T21:42:00.002-06:00

I went outside to have a cigar this evening and learned something about life. After standing in the doorway of my hotel for a few minutes, I decided to walk around the block and do a little people watching. I get a great deal of pleasure from the anonymity of the city.

Most of the time, I guess I have a look on my face that discourages a lot of people from approaching me. I suppose this is the same mechanism that leads a lot of people to think I am aloof. Really, it is just a preemptive measure to limit the times I make a decision to give something of myself or say no to someone. I am uncomfortable with small talk, and I am even more uncomfortable saying no to anyone. This can make being in downtown San Francisco kind of uncomfortable, if I leave myself exposed, because on every street there seems to be someone trying to sell me something, or trying to get a hand out.

Anyway, tonight I must have left my mean mug up in my hotel room, because I was catching smiles and eye contact from other people out wandering in the city evening. Eventually, I was approached by a guy looking for some money. I told him I didn’t have any cash or cigarettes, and he asked if he could just talk to me for a few minutes. Usually I could have just given him a hand wave and a shake of my head while somehow pretending to be polite, but tonight I just didn’t have it in me. I leaned up against the wall and said sure. I stuck my hand out and asked him his name. He told me his name was Chester, and that you can't judge a book by its cover. I agreed, and told him I had some life experience that has proven that statement to be true.

The details of the conversation aren’t too important, but we proceeded to tell each other our stories and reminisce about Caprini Green when Chester told me he is a transplant from Chicago. He told me he would be sleeping on the street tonight after he hustled up enough money for a couple of beers. I wished him luck. I told him that life has ups. He told me life has downs. I told him that I have been in shoes pretty similar to his, and I think he believed me. He didn’t ask me for money again, after about forty five minutes, he asked if he could hug me, and I said yes.

When I saw this man, I wanted to hide. I wanted a shield to protect myself from the discomfort of telling him no. I was sure I would leave the encounter with something taken from me, if only my pleasant mood. I was wrong. It was me who gained from the exchange, and I hope I will never forget it.

Good luck Chester. I hope you get everything you need.

The Duke

2010-09-22T20:29:00.000-06:00

2010-09-17T14:12:00.000-06:00

This is Mowgli:

Mowgli is interested in romantic evenings cuddled on the couch, long strolls on a beach or next to the river, and playing fetch. Mowgli is settled down and happy, but from time to time he would like a little variety in his life. Please respond with a photo.

Like Like

2010-09-10T14:28:00.001-06:00

Old Friends

2010-09-02T14:45:00.000-06:00

I ran into an old friend yesterday.

She is as beautiful as ever. The last time I remember seeing her, my life was in pieces and hers was smooth. Those roles are a little different today, but I still feel so small and ignorant when she smiles. She shared an anecdote about a boy who stopped breathing a decade ago on her living room floor. I felt some vague recollection of hearing the story before. It could have been a dream.

It is funny how the things and situations we find so permanent and definite sometimes seem to get really small when you are reminded of the past. My life seems to be full of such extremes. In my youth I so arrogantly thumbed my nose at death and the inevitable consequences I was told so much about. When I see someone who knew me then, I can get proud, embarrassed, grateful and nostalgic all at the same time. The combination of awkward regret and ego are my first reaction. Eventually, though, I take a look at them. I absorb the story in the wrinkles starting to form around their eyes. I hear the triumph in their voice for making it to today alive. It is at that point that I am reminded we are not very different. We all have ups and downs. We have all done foolish things. We have all hurt others, and we have all been victims. My story is not that unique. When I remember that, I remember to love.

Test

2010-09-01T14:47:00.000-06:00

Autumn is here, and I still haven't taken much of an honest moment to observe the summertime. I waste so much time complaining about how I don't have any time. That being said, I think I can safely say that this has been the best summer of my life. I said that last summer too, and it was true. I am happy this is the case.
The mornings are crisp, and I can smell the history of bus rides and kicking leaves as I walk around in them. Instead of feeling exposed, I feel protected by this little city I live in. I feel home. Autumn is here, with pale mornings and blushing afternoons. I am in love with everything. I am still testing things out, but I trust my footing.
This is the middle of my life. I don't know how I got here. I don't know exactly where I am in the scheme of things. It is impossible for me to pay attention to much of anything while I am in all this awe of just being here. I am the stuttering fool who crushes the things he loves. This is my life, and I don't deserve it. I am the kid with the brand new skateboard that is afraid to use it.
This Autumn I am reminded just how fast the seasons end. Soon my body will wither, and my mind will slip. There are advantages to that too of course, but it is time to take advantage of what is in front of me this very moment. Plunge!

2010-07-24T23:01:00.000-06:00

This is not my real smile.
I don’t have anything to say. I don’t know why I have a blog. Nobody is going to gain or learn anything from what I write here. I guess there are worse ways to waste time, but I hope you know I won’t be offended if you don’t read this.
I don’t have anything figured out. I am just putting one foot in front of the other most of the time. I don’t deserve anything I have. I didn’t earn it. I just have fortune and grace. There are a few tips I have learned that help me navigate this world I find myself in, but how am I to know if they will work for anyone else? Why would I bother wasting my time or yours spewing them out here on the internet? Why am I writing this? Why this drive to put a message in a bottle and expose myself to the world?
The older I get, and the more I experience, the less I feel like I have figured out. I don’t have a clue how the world operates or how other people think. I don’t even know what I think most of the time. I can’t seem to come down on one side of most controversies. I really miss that adolescent feeling of being so sure of what I believe in. Today, I really have no clue. I feel adrift a good deal of the time. I feel less and less willing to commit to anything. I don’t want to be painted into a corner. This leads me to be alone a lot of the time, and I think it drives people away sometimes. Better to be alone, though, than to be forced into insincerity just to be around someone.
Most people make me feel uncomfortable. I don’t like small talk. I don’t always like to break the ice. The ice keeps a buffer between me and the friend I can’t say no to. I mean, it is easier to stay at arm’s length, than to attend another friend’s funeral, or to have to push someone out of my life. I am better at avoiding the whole thing than trying to enforce boundaries.
This is a rambling mess. This is what I do instead of drinking. This is how I waste my time. I sit in front of a computer and think myself around in circles until it is time to go to sleep. There is nothing really wrong with that. Where it becomes wrong is when I broadcast it out there for you to look at.
Goodnight.

Resentment

2010-07-23T23:22:00.000-06:00

I left work today just a little bit angry about a comment someone had made. Actually, it was a comment someone had made that drew a reaction from someone else toward me. That is to say, it was a comment that I didn't even hear myself.
Anyway, the point is that when I left work, it was just one part of a day that wasn't really any more stressful than any other. In fact, it was a pretty decent day. It was a Friday, and I had accomplished some things. I left work with less loose ends than average. I had to stay about an hour after the work day ended, but there was really nothing upsetting or strange about that. I was even going fishing after work, so life was good.
The thing about resentments, is that they tend to grow. They are like those crystalline cancer cells I remember from high school. Resentments have a way of killing me from the inside out. At first, like today, they are just small annoyances. At some point, however, they turn into obsessions that eat away at my life. They rapaciously take more and more until I can think of little else. That is the point, if I can't find a way to let go of it, that I begin to self destruct. I have been down that road before.
By the time I was out there in the middle of the river, I found myself grinding my teeth thinking about it. I was doing the old stupid imaginary conversations where I say just the right thing. I was out there in the middle of a beautiful stream with calm all around me, and I was gritting my teeth. I guess I felt like I couldn't let it go.... but then I realized I hadn't tried.
I don't really know why some people can just go through life and react to things in a sane and reasonable fashion. I don't know why my world is a little bit crumpled from time to time. I don't know why my lenses get blurry. I am a little bit off. I have learned that it isn't the worst thing in the world, I just have to remember. I have to remind myself that the way I react to things is often strange and dysfunctional. If I remember that I am a little bit insane, and adjust my behavior, things usually turn out okay. Somewhere along the line I had to learn how to let go of the illusion of control. I have learned that there is very little difference between other people and myself. I have learned that we are all just trying to do the best we can. I have learned that it is far better to just love and accept people the way they are, and that life goes a lot easier for me when I cease fighting anyone or anything.
The thing is... I forget, and my natural state is to be in conflict, insane, and twisted up. That is what I am used to, and once in awhile, I find myself back there for no good reason. I am just glad I can wait to act out on my insanity until it passes. I didn't learn that. I didn't gain that through strength or will power. That is just grace.

2010-07-11T14:30:00.001-06:00

I sit here and try to capture the magic that is a hot day in the city with words. It is a futile exercise. I can get so lost down here that I almost disappear. All that is left blends in with the surroundings that I love so much. For moments that seem to stretch out past time, I feel a part of the whole scene; the kids splashing each other in the fountain, the soft asphalt that releases the memories of past summer nights with each slight draft, the young couples who walk down the sidewalk seeing nothing but each other.
It is times like this that I wish I could write. I wish I could just take a piece of the way I see this scene and share it with the people I love. And these are just two eyes; this is one heart that can’t even begin to take it all in. As I sit here in the sunshine, I know I could stay here forever. And maybe I will. I know I can’t keep any of this, and I know the faces and the forms will change. It is just that the way the world holds me right here, the way I am cradled by everything I can observe… I feel like I am a part of something so much bigger than my little problems and ideas.
This heat brings everything out into the open. The city is exposed in a way that might seem shocking or outrageous in October. Today anything goes. This is summer in Boise Idaho, and we are all out here in the open. The bricks, the trees, the lights, and the heat. We are all here together sharing this moment in whatever way we choose.

a breath of summer

2010-06-17T11:46:00.001-06:00

I haven’t had time to breathe.
Yesterday I was driving down State Street with the sun in my face and the dry taste of traffic filling my head. The heat and the lazy carelessness that comes with it just slammed into my consciousness all at once. It is summer time again. Summer, with all the crazy beauty that comes with it; all the endless nights and insane half memories that linger on into the twisted mythology of our youth; it is here again.
For just a moment, I was crazy again. I longed for the rush of self destruction. I longed for the trembling empty feeling of doing something that I absolutely know will have awful consequences. I don’t know where this comes from. I had an urge to smash my success, to mindlessly destroy something I cherish, for no payoff but the thrill of doing it.
I don’t know what stopped me either. It is not my intellect, or my judgment. I had those things before, and they never stopped me. It wasn’t the fear of losing what I have worked so hard to gain, because in that brief moment, that thought was absolutely absent. I don’t know what stayed my hand. I just know that it is beyond me. It is above and greater than I am. I do know I am absolutely grateful for whatever force that allows me to hold on to the amazing things I have in my life. I know that I owe all my effort, and all my attention to whatever that thing is that allows me to go on living this amazing life that I live.
Sometimes I wish I could dissect these things. I wish I could understand and diagnose what makes my life work out the way it does. But at times like this, I realize that if I could understand it, it wouldn’t work. This grace is beyond my comprehension, and the fact that it is indefinable and transient is a fundamental part of what makes it work so well for a guy like me.
And another breath in, and another breath out.

freedom

2010-04-21T09:03:00.000-06:00

Today is an anniversary of my freedom. Today I remember just how fortunate I am for the choices and opportunities in my life. I hope never again to lose sight of how lucky I am for this life, for the people I get to surround myself with, and the grace that has been given to me. Today I remember that I once relinquished my liberty.
I will never again take for granted all the things that make life so amazing. I will never again give my life over to the control of any other human being, substance, or doctrine. There is some magic in this world beyond my understanding, some love that has carried me through the painful consequences to my own insane thinking and action. That power is the only power I will ever give myself over to again.
Today is the anniversary of my freedom. I get to make choices, and I get to feel all the experiences that come into my life. I get to relish joy, and learn from pain. Today I celebrate my emancipation from the little ideas, plans, and designs of myself and others. Today I celebrate my deliverance.

flight

2010-03-15T18:47:00.001-06:00

I was on an airplane the other day. When we were about to take off, I obediently switched my portable device to the off position. After doing so, and properly stowing all carry on items, I started eavesdropping on a conversation taking place in the seats behind me. I never saw the boys, but I guess their ages to be about six and eight. They were at first arguing about why they needed to put their backpacks under the seat, but when the plane started to take off, it was very clear that this was their first plane ride.
At first, the younger one was a bit scared, and the older brother started talking about their destination in an attempt, I think, to distract him. When the plane accelerated to take off, they were both silent. I could almost feel their anxiety from where I was sitting. As soon as we were airborne, however, any trace of fear was wiped away, and I listened to a hundred shared observations from outside the window to their right. I didn’t even need to look, as they narrated everything visible outside their window in between sporadic “whoa’s” and “awesome’s.”
I am not sure if they realized that everyone else on the plane could hear every word they said before the pilot reinstated our right to turn on our computers, and headphones again, but I am sure they didn’t care. They were totally amazed both at the world outside the window and the magic that allowed them to see it from such an amazing perspective. I sat with my eyes closed and listened to them for a few more minutes.
Had I been in a more distracted state of mind, or too caught up in some imaginary drama, I may have been annoyed rather than enthralled with their dialog. Instead, I listened with gratitude, because even though I may be a bit quieter about it now, I still feel the exact same way.

2010-03-07T15:15:00.000-07:00

change

2010-03-01T18:22:00.001-07:00

People change. Sometimes people don’t change.
Buildings get torn down. Empty spaces get filled. Sometimes they don’t.
As I see the layers of my past amid the buildings and friends who still hang around my life, I like to think I can make predictions. Somehow the idea that I can comforts me. But it is not real. I can be sure only that new things will come, old things will change, and some things will remain just the same. By the time my predictions come true, it doesn’t matter anymore that I made them.
One thing I always forget to predict is how small the places from my memory seem when I see them again. My nostalgia stretches things out so that they can wrap the whole world up in one event, one view, and one night. I go back to a courtyard entrance of a building made up of cheap studio apartments, and I seem like a giant. How did such big things happen in such a tiny, dingy place? How did the smell stick with me for all these years? How did my life get so shaken in a building that still stands?
I went back to my old Junior High school the other day. I walked up the same steps I walked up to sneak back into class almost twenty years ago. It seem so monumental, until I realize that kids who ended up dying in World War Two walked up those same steps before me. I wonder how small that playground seems to them now.
Time is amazing. A lifetime seemed so huge a few years ago. And now, like the apartment building, it seems a little smaller than I remember. But that is only when I look forward without remembering how much I have been able to do in the portion I have already explored.
Today I am nostalgic and excited. I have so much love in my heart for all the people in my life. I am so proud of my friends and my family. I am so happy that I still have so many people to meet, and things to see. As the buildings around me change, and take on new stories, I see it as a reflection of the changes in my own life. And while it is fun sometimes to remember what used to occupy the spaces, it never seems to give me any better ability to predict what will come next.
Thank God.

my spot

2010-03-01T14:11:00.000-07:00

2010-02-20T11:48:00.000-07:00

I don’t know how or when this happened.

Today I was at the neighborhood health food store purchasing toaster waffles and overpriced milk when I realized I belonged there. I never felt that way anywhere before. That isn’t to say it is the first time I have ever felt that way, I guess it was just the first time I realized it as it was happening.

Now the neighborhood health food store isn’t particularly a place I really want to belong, and it isn’t that I felt I belonged there anymore than anyone else. I guess all I am saying is that I didn’t feel like an outsider. I didn’t feel as though I were a fraud, or a ghost in a place where real live people live their life. I discovered that it is comfortable to belong. I felt the gift that this life really is.

I think as an adolescent I found myself constantly trying to fit some mold that I imagined would make me acceptable and lovable to the people I wanted to love me so much. Somewhere along the line I got rather hung up on the idea that I needed everyone to like me, even the people I tried so hard to pretend I hated. I got stuck in that state for a long time. As a result, I spent so much of my time trying to pretend my life was something other than what it really was; I missed out on a lot.

A friend of mine told me this summer that when he stopped trying to be cool, he became cool. So naturally I tried to be just like him for a few days. It didn’t work.

I used to think adulthood was the death of the heart. I saw these grown-ups so involved with the business of living, that I thought they had lost the capability of feeling. Of course this was because I imagined feeling was another word for experiencing pain or longing. I had all these ideas. I knew so much. I was so confident that everything I guessed at was a fact. I was wrong.

Adulthood has been the best part of my life so far. I am pretty new at it. I have learned a few things in the past decade or so however. I have learned the value of humility. I have learned that the most important things in life are the relationships with my family, and the true friends I have found in this life. I have learned that I am often wrong, and the quicker I am to accept that fact, the more I learn, and the more helpful I can be to the people I love. I have learned the value of using my mind more than my mouth, and the value of using my heart more than my brain.

My grandpa once taught me that one of the most valuable expressions he ever learned to say was “you may be right.” I believe now that is how he became probably the wisest man I have ever known. The more he learned about life, the more he was open to let other people have their beliefs and to learn what he could from them while being helpful all the time.

Today while in the neighborhood health food store, I realized that this is my life. I am not the center of the universe, nor am I absent. I get to live this life today not because of the choices I have made, but because of grace. My responsibility is to live this life to the fullest, to be present, and to experience every moment, and every situation as a part of this amazing thing we all share. I don’t know that I deserve all that I have, or all I have been given, but I am certainly going to make good use of it. I love my life, and all the people in it.

2010-02-11T19:32:00.000-07:00

2010-01-30T18:49:00.000-07:00

january song

2010-01-26T17:17:00.000-07:00

What will the captain think?
Out on this road with the weeds
Blowin from one direction on home,
Wonder what will the captain think?

And where did that girl go now?
Running from nowhere
With a fist full of guilt
Tell me where did that girl go now.

Sometimes it gets hard to know.
Its hard to find normal leaning into the wind.
I don’t want to ask why I feel so alone,
I don’t want to remind you.

No I don’t want to remind you.

Who do they talk about now?
I pretended to resent
when they talked about me,
But I wonder, who do they talk about now?

How far is it to my home?
And where will I meet
The one who is waiting for me,
Tell me how far is it to my home?

Sometimes it gets hard to know.
Its hard to find normal leaning into the wind.
I don’t want to ask why I feel so alone,
I don’t want to remind you.

No I don’t want to remind you.

tonight

2010-01-14T23:21:00.000-07:00

I lie here tonight halfway between loneliness and gratitude. This dissonance is much less amplified than the dissonance I lived in the past. Still….
I keep writing drafts, and I keep throwing them away. I guess that is because I don’t know the story yet. I don’t know where I want the protagonist to go. I am not quite sure who he is going to be yet.
I just don’t know what I want. Maybe that is because I have everything I need.

warm in here

2010-01-08T16:08:00.001-07:00

It is still cold outside. For a moment I look out of a window and think about who is out there. Struggles are harder when the shivering won’t stop. It is so easy to be grateful as I sit in this warm room given to me out of sheer grace. I wonder how easy it would be to have that gratitude if my path had been harder. I don’t think I have that in me. I wonder how I would feel if my life weren’t wonderful. Would I be bitter? Would I want to blot it all out?
I don’t feel guilty; at least not usually. I definitely didn’t get what I have now out of hard work and honesty throughout my life, but I didn’t get it by taking it from anyone else too. Rather, by some fortune, I find I have everything I need, and almost everything I want. There is no answer to this. There is no solution, as it isn’t a problem. It just is.
Still, I sit here and look out into that gray cold, and I remember living there too. I remember putting myself there, and hating everyone else for it. I remember being invisible as I walked through store isles just trying to stay warm, or even to have a conversation with a real person, that is, someone not like me.
I want to give what I have today. I want to share this feeling of actual enjoyment of life. I am not sure I know how. And somehow in all this, I hurt a little. I sit here with the whole beautiful world, with everything I need, and all the best of friends… I am extremely happy, but I hurt a little for what I can’t give away.
I know that there will be pain. I know that every life has some static. There will be losses and tragedies in my future. I am not blind to the realities of life. I know that someday all of this will end, that this story has some kind of conclusion. I want to be there to perceive fully how it plays out. But for right now, I am just so happy to be alive. I am happy for it all. I just want everyone else to be too.

for you

2009-12-23T23:20:00.000-07:00

Yes, this is for you. How could it not be? You take up the whole world for a second, and you block out the sun. But in a good way. And the way you walk down the street, with that confidence in each subtle movement? It is just grace, and a reason to wake up tomorrow.
I don’t really know how else to say it… so I should really just stop, but I want to tell you that you are noticed. You are not only the reason I walk an extra block past my car, but you stay with me all day. And while it is likely I will never talk to you, that you will never know my name, I will never forget you. You completely matter, even if I make you up.
This is for you. I am not lonely, and I am not quite crazy. I just can’t seem to shake you. You are behind my eyelids as I try to sleep, and you won’t even say hello in my dreams. But I can see you smile, and that is enough.
I don’t know who you are, and maybe that is better. Maybe it would be too much, or maybe the illusion would shatter. But still, I am so grateful for that brief glance; that trace of a smile. You give me just enough to think you like that I notice you. This is for you.

nothing to say #3

2009-11-16T22:39:00.000-07:00

So this is the third draft of something. I don't know what. I know that I have a desire to say something. But my mind is empty. Sometimes if I just sit down and write, I figure out what it is, but I admit I have no confidence this will be the case tonight.
The light outside at around five o'clock reminds me of something. There are a million stories or more from November. The last of the dark leaves dry up on the trees in my neighborhood, and every corner holds a memory. It has been a long time since I have seen it with my eyes open. I am here now, and I am not sure I am taking advantage of it the way I promised myself I would when I was far away.
I admit that I forget how magical this all is. I slip once in awhile, and I lose perspective of how fortunate I am to be here. These little insignificant distractions are just enough sometimes to take my eyes away from my gratitude. I get to breathe this air into me! I get to kick these leaves on these sidewalks!
I may have been born into this, but I can't pretend to deserve it. I try to, but when I think about all that is available to me, it takes my breath away. Once in awhile I catch a glimpse of someone who seems to be thinking the same thing. That is when I know I am alive.
I have these friends. Some of them are hurting. Some of them I can help. I get to know amazing people. We write each other in to our stories, and we try to keep writing. It is easy when the sound is turned down for a little while. I am trying to take all the narratives to the same place. I am trying to pull my reverence into my job, my driving, my personal interactions. I am not to that point yet. But my friends help me remember.
I have the fortune to work with a few of them. And without being able to talk to them, I would lose my way. What would I be without my friends?
So I am pretty sure this is still about nothing. I haven't really maintained any kind of consistency in this thing. I hope I have clarified something to myself, if not to anyone else. I am getting to know myself a little these days. After years of avoiding myself, I am not really sure what I was so scared of for all those years. I cringe a little bit about who might read this far, but if you have, I am not ashamed. I don't mind letting you know me a little too.

2009-11-09T08:33:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, I used to ride my bike to school on early fall mornings and daydream about being a grownup.
Today, I sit in front of a computer on an early fall morning, looking out my window and daydream about being younger and riding my bike to school.

four minutes to write

2009-11-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

People surprise me. People drain me.
And I don't even know what to say. There often seems no explanation. I am sure it is me.
We are all children of god, or whoever. Respect is due. Say what you might, we all have a right to be here, and to our piece of this thing. I just relish and remember the people in my life who I have been able to be completely comfortable with, those people who have made me better when I am around them. People exist in this world, who not only love you, but they can help you remember to love yourself.
The places I have been lately are filled with all kinds of people from all kinds of places. I enjoy meeting them. I enjoy getting little glimpses into their lives. I enjoy the perspective that experiences bring. Still, I long for just a few more of those people who make me smile just to see them. I long for people who I know I don't need to think about how to behave around, or what to say. I can't wait to meet the next person who brings out the best in me.

2009-10-18T16:56:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it is harder not to see the leaves falling. No matter how much you try to stay in the summertime the autumn comes. And it becomes not a matter of attempting to be in the present, not a matter of should... but a matter of not being able to. If you haven't done a little practicing it can take your breath away. Of course you miss out on your life if you are focused on anything besides what is in front of you. I think we all know that. But I also think we know that you just can't help it. The mind travels too fast to cage. And if you can, like a butterfly, it tends to lose it's magic. But then the leaves fall. You see the gray hair in the mirror in the morning. You start to forget the sound of someones voice. You just can't help but notice that life is short, and getting shorter everyday. This thing we share is amazing. It hurts, it makes us laugh, and it makes us reverent. While I don't put much stock in shoulds, it is hard not to make a recommendation: Take a breath. Open your eyes. Watch the the leaves fall. And smile.

2009-10-02T15:52:00.001-06:00

When it comes to possible experience, there is so much in any direction it is almost overwhelming. Sometimes it feels like I want to catch up and experience everything I have missed. The reality I suppose is that choices determine the stories we collect, and nobody can collect them all. We can only walk one direction at a time. That is okay. What is important is to value and experience each story as it unfolds. Without presence, there is no quality to the world. We must demand to soak in every last detail of the life we surround ourselves with. We must take it in to ourselves, and allow it to reside in our character. And when the next decision presents itself, we will be ready for the direction we travel next.

Today, I am headed to Golden Gate Park.

2009-10-01T14:12:00.000-06:00

It is difficult to imagine the potential for change in people, and in general. Black swans exist. And not only do they exist, but sometimes they change from black to white. As I walk around on the streets of downtown San Francisco I am impressed by the amount of wealth, and poverty sharing the sidewalks. What impresses me more is living in a place where it really is possible, although difficult, to go from one extreme to another.

Of course it is easy to discount my own metamorphosis because of luck, and the hard work of others. Still, I recognize that it hasn't all been handed to me. I had to learn some skills to be able to walk around in these clothes and pull it off. It isn't so different in that respect to the life I lived before.

Once again, this narrative is not about me, but I must filter the observations I make through something, and in most cases it is my own experience. This is especially the case because my education is of the experiential variety. As I look around at all the different people on the streets outside my hotel, I see how close we all really are. Last night I offered a beggar a dollar to take his photograph. He refused to do it for one dollar. He demanded two. At first, I thought to myself that he was in no position to be so choosy. However, upon a little reflection, I realize he is in exactly that position. I applaud him for it. At some point, an opportunity may present itself to this man. If he doesn't let himself get sold short, he may just fall in to a better situation.

2009-09-26T11:09:00.000-06:00

When you hear about someone else's struggles with relationships, or just growing up, it tends to comfort.
Today is still summer in boise. It has matured. The warmth is ripe, aged of a season. And it is comfortable. The dreams of the summer are accomplished or abandoned. Maybe next year is okay today. Downtown is not concerned with who is there, only happy for the company.
My neighborhood is heavy with full leaves, and the lawns are stretching out to sleep for the winter. Everything is okay, and none of the smiles seem false.
The love of the springtime is accepted as a part of the past and a hope for the future once again. No one has a broken heart, and the resentments are mere nostalgic smiles at our own silly hangups. Life is life outside today, just as it is.
And we are all beautiful.

2009-09-20T23:50:00.001-06:00

Life is at hand.

Things are occurring.

For once.

And time is apparent.

Right here,

outside.

The neighborhood was full of smiles this weekend. Old friends met new ones, smiles were met with more. There were scores of hula hoopers dancing to bluegrass in Camel's Back. The music made everybody dance. And whoever was there, got to be a part of it.

Some days it is impossible not to be grateful.

2009-09-19T11:42:00.000-06:00

Do over

The last time for the fair, I couldn't see. Clouded with conflict. Trying to be. And last night, vindication at every glance, every scent, every eye.

The park was beautiful. The people were open, exposed, and smiling.

Swaying to the music, and breathing community. I felt like a hippy, seeing everyone love each other with smiles and consent.

Built to spill, arms wrapped around my past. Holding on to my future, and loving the in between. Amazing.

So today, more music, more people, more opportunity. People will miss it. I have. But not today. I am right here. Right in Boise.

2009-09-17T23:25:00.000-06:00

2009-09-17T23:06:00.000-06:00

My mind is suspended in syrup.

Motel rooms, training, networking, airports, and now back in front of a screen when I should be in bed.

I guess in some ways I am starting to feel like an adult. I don't know if that is comforting or tragic.

It is a little of both.

We have these long talks about our ideals, and we make silent resolutions to change. We do, in increments. But it makes me wonder, did my intention have anything to do with it at all?

People, right now, are falling in love everywhere. People are abusing each other too. And we are right here in the middle, maybe in the middle of a story ourselves, or maybe just observing, but a part of the same soup nevertheless.

The street fair starts tomorrow. Another season is passed. They are not unlimited for the characters we have become. Tomorrow is a day to live. Nobody is watching, and if they are, they just love you. And they are just bored. So dance. Sway. Breathe in this life. Hold it. There won't be another chance to live it. But if you do...

I am going to bed.

2009-09-17T06:45:00.000-06:00

Okay, so the sun hasn't come up yet in Montana. The Rockford coffee shop has it's first customers walking through the door for their regulars and a look at the paper. Apparently the sandals with socks look is perfectly acceptable here in Bozeman. I am okay with that. It is a custom people must carry with them when they leave.
Last night I learned that a building exploded downtown here not long ago. The rumor is that it was an arson job to collect insurance. A woman died in the fire. I walked past the hole in downtown last night, and it was hard to imagine such a violent event in this smiley little town. I suppose anywhere has history, but the history of wherever I am seems so vital, as the locals walk past it in the business of living.
There are so many stories brushing past on the sidewalk, and all it takes is time to hear them. Time seems to appreciate in value when the business of living becomes more of a commodity.
I have another airport day ahead. Back to Boise. First, I have some more seminars and buffet meals. I am skipping out on the meth clean up workshop to catch my plane. I am quite happy with my visit to Montana. A beautiful place filled with beautiful people. I suppose anywhere is, when you have the time to open your eyes and look around.

Go Cougars.

2009-09-16T23:58:00.001-06:00

I heart you.

2009-09-14T22:34:00.000-06:00

What if all the maps are lying?
What if a long time ago there was an agreement among the people with the sort of power to make such agreements, that there was to be no mention of the other continent?
The secret continent.... Where all the spoils end up.
What if everyone is in on it, except you?

And another thing:
Montana is amazing. It is beautiful, and strong. The people seem raw, and vibrant. But it is not the last best place. I can not accept that.

So I sit in a hotel room in Forsyth... Check that; a motel room. I talk on the phone, I order flowers for a girl in New york, and I lie here and dream with my eyes open. Maybe the next best place, but not the last. My life is better than it has ever been. I would not be anywhere else right now if I could chose to.

I am writing about nothing/myself again. Hopefully A new author will come save me from this indulgence soon.

The buildings I saw today have a history unknown to me. Almost every building I admired in Forsyth was built in 1907. That must have been quite the year here. I sat in a restaurant and tried to soak in some of the stories that have been set there. I got a little essence, but not as much as I would have liked to. This town knows it's worth. It doesn't put out for just anyone.

There are broken sidewalks, and sunsets. There are baseball games, and jars of string beans. There are grandmas, and fourth of July parades. I think the kids play kick the can.

A town like this has a personality, a little shy, but eager eyes, and salty skin.

Tomorrow I leave, and I may never stay here again. But I got to know it just a little. Not the last best place, but one of them perhaps.

2009-09-13T21:56:00.000-06:00

Does the right woman come in to your life? Is that how it works? Or do you go out and find what you want? I know right now, I tend to avoid any women I might consider wanting to be in a commitment with. I am afraid of something.
Bozeman is very comfortable. I went to a nice little coffee shop on the corner of seventh and main. I had one of the best cappuccinos I have had in my life. It was also served by one of the sweetest baristas of all time. I then went and purchased a Herbie Hancock cd at a local jazz music and used book store. Really nice place.
There is a reason they call this big sky country. It really is beautiful.

2009-09-13T09:04:00.000-06:00

I am currently sitting in gate sixty-eight at the Salt Lake airport. I can't help but recognize how far away I am from the city I used to know here. The advance in time, and the advance in my own time, have made it impossible to touch that place I knew so very well only a decade ago. It does not exist. But it did, and I can still taste the hungry dust in my mouth from the summertime on those filthy streets next to the mission.
Pioneer park is now a place people take their kids. The district that used to be crowded with desperate people selling cocaine, heroin, and sex has transformed into a place filled with dispirited people pushing lotions, khaki's, and fried foods.
A man just sat next to me on the terminal bench and caused me to bounce a little. This happened right as I typed the word fried.
When I was last in California, I got a chance to ride a bus in to San Francisco from Santa Rosa. Also riding the bus that day was my best friend Jared, and a dwarf bull-dyke. She was quite friendly, but had a homeless odor about her and seemed full of misinformation about the bus schedule. It was difficult to show her appreciation for her accommodating nature, while not encouraging her to continue to keep talking to us. These are the experiences I remember.
A friend of mine is having trouble breaking up with someone who is not really in a relationship with her. I suppose he has convinced himself that he is through wishful thinking. Things like that happen. I recently broke up with someone I was not in a relationship with. The difference is that both of us knew that. In retrospect I wonder why we took the energy to break up. Closure is comforting.
I will be in Bozeman today. I have never been there. I am mildly excited.

2009-09-12T16:51:00.000-06:00

The title is for me. I have to remember that people don't want to read about my life. I am not that interesting.
Everything I have written before is personal, it is written for me, or for someone to read after I expire.
I write this with the grandiose idea that someone might be interested enough to find this. If this is you, my ego is very grateful. Don't ever tell me.
I have been told to write as if everyone I know is dead. I find more comfort in thinking that no one I know will ever have time to read this. However, I will preface with the fact that I will edit what I say here. This is done as much for reasons of trying to be mysterious, as to protect my selfish motives. So here goes:

The street outside my building is hot. People move by with various means of transportation to get somewhere else. Once in a while, someone glimpses in, but usually through the windows I choose to present. Right now, as I write, there are two children walking by, a brother and sister I think. They are on their way somewhere too. I wish there were no reason not to ask them. This would not do. I have the neighbors opinions to consider.
I know people with no boundaries. It can be compelling. It is also tiring. I talk to people on the phone about the kinks in their minds. Actually, I don't talk to them, I mostly listen. When I talk, it is to people who are far less interesting, but much easier to know.
In case you were wondering, this blog is about nothing. There is no reason for you to be reading this. It is going nowhere. There is no knowledge to be gained here. There is no group to join, no comfort to find. So it is likely you should stop here, and go clean your bathroom.
It is just faster to write in here than in a journal, different things come out on a keyboard than from a pen. I like them both, but I am lazy, and I have to use my computer for something besides farming on facebook.
I went to an auction today for condominiums in downtown Boise. I didn't get anything. I really didn't even bid. The idea was to get a place to live away from my landlord and the drain of rent. I would like to be established. I would like my money to go in to something tangible, but that is such an illusion anyway.
See, that is what I want to stay away from. I am not writing about me. I am here to write about the world, as it looks to me. And it is beautiful. I really mean that. It amazes me how much passion I have for every little aspect of this world I am surrounded by. I suppose it comes from spending so much of my life in such a self-centered state of mind.
I don't need to go camping to feel the beautiful warmth of the sun on my face. I feel it as soon as I step out the door. The trees in my neighborhood speak to me with every soft sway of the breeze.
They tell me that everything is okay. And it is. All these things so tragic, and constricting, are so temporary and transient. This is not a spiritual statement.
I am off to a large social gathering to watch athletes. I will observe it all.