Red Light

A friend of mine died today.

I hate this. This acute awareness of mortality. I can't help but believe that we are not meant to have this awareness so close to the skin. How are we supposed to walk through life, pulling ourselves along our little assigned time line knowing that the...stuff...the stuff that urges us along that line is so fleeting, and so much of it of no consequence? If I were not here tomorrow, the TV station would still be on the air, a new person would move into this apartment, all my possessions would go in the trash or to Goodwill. Life would continue just fine without me.

Ah, but.....mortality wouldn't be so big, so powerful, so painful, so influential, so...present, if that stuff were the only thing on our little time line. There are people on each time line. Our little lines intersect, weave in and out, entangle with every other life we encounter. When one time line comes to its end, every line entangled with it comes to a sudden stop. Depending upon the degree of the entanglement, the stop may last a moment, a few days, months....or the remainder of a life.

I am sad to think that most of the world will continue on as though my friend were never even here. Those lines that never crossed his will not pause. I will go to work tomorrow and do the things I do, but tonight, I paused. I stopped. I stared at a red stop light, transfixed by it while aware of a constant stream of cars racing by in both directions underneath. I welled up with tears and felt the loss. I felt a bit angry at the cars racing past as though nothing had happened. They should all stop, but they didn't.

I am unconcerned with how many pauses happen at the end of my time line. What difference will it make to me? I'll be gone. I am, however, VERY concerned about when I may have to stop again. I dread coming to a place where another person's mortality will stop me dead in my tracks. A mortal line so closely entwined with mine that I can't imagine dragging on without it. This is the awareness I hate.

I am so glad my life intersected with yours, Eddie. You are, perhaps, the most unique person I ever met. You were a big man with big flaws, perfectly balanced with big love, loyalty and joy. Rest in peace, my friend.

Like a Pig in Mud

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Then if everything goes to hell, well, at least you have some lemonade. But, what if you don't feel like making lemonade? What if life gave you the lemons, stole all your sugar, broke your pitcher, and hid your spoon where the sun don't shine?

Sometimes, seeing the bright side is much easier said than done.

Yes, I'm all for positive thinking and I do believe it is very powerful. When something rotten happens in my life, I always get through it by finding the light and following it. You know, the light at the end of the tunnel. In my experience, that light is usually NOT a train, so I would say this is an effective life strategy....however...there is always that period just before I find the light. That period of time, usually only about a day or so, when I wallow in self-pity like a fat, pink pig in mud.

I declare that taking a little time for a pity party is ok. You heard me. That theory is contrary to what we're told we should do. Friends see you down and try to boost you up with love and happy tawts. Your mom tells you to quit feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it. Your grandma bakes you cookies. No person who loves you wants to see you sad, so they work tirelessly to get you over it. Ah, maybe that's part of the appeal.

I think brief moments of self-pity are therapeutic, as long as they are short-lived and you have the ability to pull yourself out of them, motivated to forge ahead. A pity party can simply be a request for a little help from your support system to refill your emotional tank in preparation for a difficult road ahead.

After all, pigs wallow in mud to protect themselves from overheating in the harsh rays of the sun. Wallowing in a little self-pity for protection against the harsh realities of life seems reasonable. Pigs are smart. They freak me out a little.

The Thing with Feathers

Life and Hope. Heavy subjects. Heaviness abounds. Not for one person, or a few people, or even many people. I venture to say most are feeling this heaviness to some degree or another. Whether due to direct experience or as it oozes over from a neighbor. Inescapable.

I have lately felt the heaviness of my own situation, but today the shadow of someone else's burden eclipsed mine. This brought to mind ideas like the fragility of life, coping mechanisms, perspective, insecurity. I sometimes peruse collections of quotes to see if someone more brilliant than I has managed to articulate a particular situation or feeling perfectly. Here are a few quotes about life that spoke to me today:

• Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets. -Arthur Miller
• We are born wet, naked, and hungry. Then things get worse. -Author Unknown
• Puritans will never believe it, but life is full of disagreeable things that aren't even good for you. -Mignon McLaughlin
• The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing. -Marcus Aurelius
• Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are good is like expecting the bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian. -Dennis Wholey

Ok, those aren't very cheerful. Obviously, we are not the first in history to feel this heaviness in life. Maybe we could use some with a bit more "glass half full" emphasis:

• There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats. -Albert Schweitzer
• Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they're supposed to help you discover who you are. -Bernice Johnson Reagon
• He who has a why to live can bear almost any how. -Friedrich Nietzsche
• Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. -Helen Keller

Getting closer. Perhaps this isn't the right approach. Yes, life has a lot of suck in it. While much good and happiness do exist in every life, the dark heaviness often seems to overshadow. How do we deal? Cope? ...Let's try HOPE:

• Never deprive someone of hope; it might be all they have. - H. Jackson Brown, Jr.
• Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. -Epicurus

Hope isn't something to seek and find. Hope is just there, ever present. Maybe some of us are better at recognizing it, seeing it, claiming it, feeding it. The most apt reference to hope I've found, as it relates to me and my experience is this simple verse penned by Emily Dickinson:

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
and never stops at all.

Inspired by Niersteiner

I wrote this a while ago, but just now decided to publish it.
___________________________________________________

Wouldn't it be cool to be a world traveler...and further cool to choose destinations based on some whimsical inspiration that zaps you when you least expect it? I was standing in Total Wine when such an inspiration struck me.

Adolf Meuller 2007 Rheinhessen Niersteiner Gutes Domtal Kabinett.

A German wine, obviously. Off-dry with citrus, peach and spicy notes. Recommended to be enjoyed with spicy Asian dishes, perhaps like the spicy Thai curry I will be polishing off for dinner.

Where is Niersteiner? Is it a small mountain town? Near a big city, or maybe remote? I've never been to Germany. It would be soooo cool to go get on a plane and just go to Niersteiner and see where this wine was made. I probably wouldn't have too much trouble getting around, even though the extent of my German language skills is "Wilkommen!" Would be odd to say "Welcome" to someone who already lives there.

This spontaneous travel notion is something I ponder at least once per day. I am a member of the online travel community called Matador. Not because I am a traveler, but because I am living vicariously through all those other people in the community. Many of them are writers, location independent. That represents the ultimate freedom to me.

Well, I do not have the luxury of that kind of freedom. I will just keep reading about the exploits of others, dreaming of a day when life gives me a break and lets me explore the world a bit. When that happens, I'll be sure to tell you about it....from a little table in a little town in Germany, perhaps.

Brain-Sucker

"Guess what this is?" My uncle would ask this question while his hand was on top of my head doing a weird pulsing motion. Then he'd say, "A brain-sucker starving to death!" *Insert knee slap here.* That annoying brain-sucker was actually harmless. I have, however, encountered more detrimental brain-suckers in my adult life. The most difficult, of late, has been my television.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love TV. I always have, and now it's my livelihood. Not only do I love television, but I want everyone else to love it, too. This affection for that warm, flickering glow is the reason I have difficulty admitting that too much of this good thing is not good for me.

Maybe I'm being too hard on television. "Brain-sucker" is a bit of an exaggeration. A more accurate description of TV's effect on me is "brain-clogger." The television doesn't actually remove material from my brain. It just causes cessation of creativity, productivity and inspiration. I find that a lack of stimulation around me prods my brain to fill the gap. If I am not occupying my mind with Homer Simpson's hi jinks, then my mind will occupy itself with dark forms of little birds sitting in swirls of a thick, blue-green atmosphere, paint and canvass, brushes. If Stewie's attempts at matricide aren't commanding my attention, then my attention drifts toward a more keen awareness of my real emotional state; why I feel that way; what words express it best.

Please understand, this musing isn't a damnation of television. I certainly don't have a melodramatic view of TV as some sort of destructor of society, family, or whatever. I actually believe TV is a glorious portal to a small world. A portal with tremendous power, and those of us who wield that power have a tremendous responsibility (yes, that's from Spiderman, but it happens to be true.) I must sometimes remind myself that this medium for which I have so much respect has a tremendous power over me, just like so many others. Ben & Jerry's ice cream has a similar power over me.

Everyone has brain-suckers. Mine is television. Someone else's may be video games, internet surfing, gossip. As is the case with many of the yummiest things in life, moderation is a necessary virtue. Less television means more art, writing and introspection. Less Ben & Jerry's means wearing the little red bikini without a t-shirt.

I think Homer will have to entertain someone else tonight. I'll catch up with him on Sunday.

Voices In My Head

That inner voice. Different people call it different things: intuition, God, your gut, psychic ability, the Shining. However you attribute its origin, we all have it to one degree or another. I believe that learning to recognize that universal gift in yourself, and then learning to trust it, are two of the most important lessons to learn in life. I, unfortunately, have learned these lessons the hard way.

I won't go into the gory details on such a public forum, but I recently bore the consequences of dismissing a strong gut feeling. I had an intuitive knowledge that I should not enter into a specific contract. Why did I do it? I let desperation, emotion, and a trusting nature override what I now know was an unmistakable directive from a higher power, a sixth sense, to walk away. The misery I've endured as a result is beyond anything I could have imagined, but I am getting out of this situation, and I am accomplishing that by trusting my gut.

Why do we ever dismiss intuition?

We dismiss it because intuition isn't logical. It isn't rational. When you stack the facts, inclusion of a gut feeling as a factor isn't possible, and often not defensible as a reason for taking a particular position. And yet, there is very little risk in trusting your gut. Even if a situation doesn't work out the way you expect, you can usually look back with the satisfaction of knowing you did what was right and good for yourself.

So, I now have the proof I need to confidently to go forward trusting my intuition, God, my gut, my psychic ability and the Shine. If I ever tell you to avoid a particular room in big, old remote hotel in the dead of winter, don't question it. Just switch your reservation to the Holiday Inn Express.

Coffee House

I wrote this the old-fashioned way: pen and paper, then typed it here later. It is of no import, has no philosophical point, is not even a compelling story. Just a literary snapshot of a quiet moment in my day....

I am sitting in Starbucks. An empty brown paper bag containing apple fritter crumbs is on the small table to my left next to some crumpled napkins and my half-consumed grande Sumatra. I am so tired, I can barely push this pen across the paper. My eyelids are heavy, as are my arms, legs, and head. A bluesy, soulful cover of "Yesterday" is playing, a bit too loudly, threatening to lull me into a stupor.

As much as I usually enjoy the opportunity to sit alone in a coffee house to read, write, or just think, I am wishing very much that I were instead reclined on my couch, or still in bed. This week has been exhausting in every way, and the madness has just begun. I really wish this caffeine would kick in.

The Starbucks is filling with people now, along with all of the chatting, rustling, chair-scooting noise that fills the space around such groups. Did that guy really just order a skinny vanilla latte with extra whipped cream, then ask for a fork to eat it? One shouldn't have to eat coffee.

I like this Starbucks. It has a lot of these velvety upholstered chairs. It's cozy.

I think I've killed enough time. It's time to go find my couch for a while.