nothing to say #3

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.