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I find it appropriate that I write this post on the 20th Anniversary of “The Simpsons” first airing on Fox. I am getting a cosmic dope slap (Doah!)
I feel like Homer when I am reminded that The Cosmos help one to find the imbalance and to right what is wrong. After posting yesterday, I received a couple of well-meaning, but strong reminders. In a nutshell, I need to (again) get my head out of my butt.
I need to be fair: to My Love, to the reader, and to myself. I need to move on. My Love is no longer my lover, but she is my friend. She cares about what happens to me. She does feel badly about how we parted. As much as I would like to have an intimate relationship with her, it isn’t possible. We are both not good at dealing with endings. It has been as painful for her as it’s been for me, although she hasn’t intimated those thoughts with me. I wouldn’t expect her to do that. But she is trying to figure out the why’s and what’s behind her decision. I wish her well.
With that being said, I need to take the advice I posted yesterday and integrate it into my life. I am just starting to become more comfortable in my own skin. I am becoming more and more accustomed to my life. I like what I’m seeing in therapy. The Shrink is wise and understands me all too well, so he knows how to push me and guide me. He is helping me toward my goal of living a valued life.
One of the issues I need to abandon is the notion that My Love is coming back. She isn’t, so I must move forward. Yes, there will be days that are emotionally frustrating. But I will get through them, just like I’ve been able to work through the events of the last two years. I must regularly remind myself of this and that I am traveling in the right direction.
Another reason for this post is that I imagine there are some who read these posts who are thinking, “Get over yourself!!” You are not like the casual reader who is looking for an emotional trainwreck. I am anything but that. My difficulty is in getting stuck at certain points of the journey. I am encountering self-created obstacles, and I need to stop doing that. I don’t want to be a whinning pathetic creature. I want to live life and enjoy what it has to offer. I am learning to understand what to do with the pain I’ve experienced, to accept it for what it is. I’ve discovered (usually in hindsight) that I deal with my emotions in writing instead of understanding the situations that trigger those emotions.
All that aside, things are good. I will be looking forward to having my evenings to myself again. I have been so busy these last three weeks I barely have time to have an original thought. It makes me wonder what directions my thoughts will go. I want to stay busy and keep myself occupied. I’ll be okay. I just need to be mindful.
ONLY TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY
“If something is leaving your life, no matter how valuable or important it seem, it is because in some way it held you back. If something leaves, know that something better is coming. (See) what things are real and important, and what things are unnecessary and unneeded.” ~ Sanaya Roman
In as much as I like this quotation, I am not ready to understand it. There needs to be a level of trust in oneself and the Cosmos, in order for the true meaning to be understood. It also means that one has to take a hard look at their life, and determine what is needed and unnecessary.
This quote is very timely. The Shrink and I got together yesterday. I took advantage of an AH-HA moment at a traffic light and pulled sharply in front of a small Thai restaurant. A one-star pad thai later and I was off to see the wizard. The Shrink is abig supporter of ah-ha moments, so he complimented me on my choice. We’ve been looking at what is important in my life. Things, such as family relationships, romantic/inimate relationships, and community relationships, were examined to see their order of importance in my life. I determined that romantic/intimate relationships are at the bottom of the list. The last thing I need is that type of commitment. Besides, according to what I’ve been told, I do not have the finances to sustain a romantic relationship. I don’t need that kind of rejection again. I don’t need the headache and frustrations. Being told you’re not good enough really sucks.
Anyway, that’s why I’m in therapy: to deal with these issues and create some positve change.
I am discovering some interesting things about myself. Nothing to divulge at this time, but I will let you know when the next ah-ha moment comes along.
COUNTDOWN: THREE MORE DAYS UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY
Memo to readers in the Midwest: I feel your pain.
As I write, New England is receiving the brunt of a huge storm. Snow is falling at a rate of an inch an hour. Inland, they can expect a foot of snow or more. Here on the coast, we can expect 6 inches of snow before it turns to rain. At the moment, it still looks pretty as I look out the open bay door on the loading dock. But I am not looking forward to driving in this.
The Shrink and I had a confab yesterday. We talked about suffering versus pain. Everyone feels pain, but we shouldn’t have to suffer. I feel the pain of losing My Love, but I shouldn’t have to suffer. I don’t want to ignore the pain. It is a part of being a human being. I also don’t want to try and fix it. It is what it is. All of us should just accept the pain, feel it and move on. We get into trouble when we dwell on the pain.
The Shrink and I also talked about what I think is important in my life. That conversation was triggered by the story I told about finding the $10 receiver at Goodwill, the expression of utter joy when I spoke about writing here, and when I spoke about music. He said that the expression on my face was so animated, so full of energy and passion. I explained to The Shrink how I felt when I listen to music. I allowed myself to feel the music which, in turn, generated some wonderful feelings.
For example, The Shrink put on a recording of Luciano Pavoratti singing “Nessun Dorma”, from the opera “Turandot”, by Puccini. I closed my eyes and let the music fill my senses. My first reaction after 30 seconds was that, although I couldn’t understand what he was singing, I could feel his pain. Those amazing crescendos, the depth of his range and the wonderful melody picked me up and carried my like a wind current. If I knew the piece, I would’ve sung along. But the beauty of the song and the singer lifted me up. I had the same reaction when I first heard “Nether Lands” by Dan Fogelberg. The entire song is majestic and tender, a wonderfully orchestral piece with cinematic qualities. The whole song is beautiful, but the part that touches my heart is the last minute. That last 60 seconds of music is so gorgeous and I close my eyes in a similar way as I did with the Puccini, letting the music carry my heart upward.
Music, for me, is essential. I cannot imagine what Life would be like if I didn’t have music. Music can motivate, heal, and inspire. I makes you joyful, fills you with sorrow, and releases amazing power. Some of our most powerful memories are associated with music. It is an extremely personal experience. No two people have the same reaction to the same piece of music. Other than love, music is the stongest force in the universe.
But the power comes from me, not the music. The music is just a vehicle. I allow myself to let the music take me where it will. I remember the scene from “The Shawshank Redemption”, where Tim Robbins, after receiving a shipment of books and music from area libraries, selects a duet from Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro”. Two women, a soprano and an alto, sing a wonderfully sublime piece that, when played over the prison loudspeakers, causes every man to stop and listen. That act get Robbins a stint in solitary confinement, but it was the music, kept deep in his heart, that helped sustain him. It’s in a place that no one can touch. The Shrink and I agreed that music is a VERY important part of who I am. I can sing, but not like Pavoratti. But I can feel the music take me places, bringing me a level of joy that is indescribable.
I can get the same reaction while listening to “Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin, “Brown Sugar” by the Rolling Stones, The Chieftains’ Love Theme, from the movie ”Barry Lyndon”, and “Claire de Lune” by Claude Debussy, among others. They are all moving pieces of music. For me, moving doesn’t necessarily mean sublime. It’s also powerful, gentle, playful and some emotions I have yet to describe. But I feel in deep inside where no one can touch it or take it away. Google them or find them on YouTube. When you hear them, you’ll understand.
My homework assignment for the week is to begin to find what is important to me, and what I need to live a valued life.
In this episode, gentle reader, we introduce a new character to the always-growing list of folk running in, out, around and through my life.
Meet The Shrink.
A few posts ago, I mentioned I was going back into therapy. This week, I went back. All things considered, I should’ve gone back in June and gotten everything off my chest, instead of letting it fester over the summer.
I am a big advocate of therapy. Everyone should go in for a tune-up. I believe more people should do it, that way our society wouldn’t be so stressed out. Some issues are best worked out with an outside agent. Personally, I couldn’t work out my issues alone. How some folks think they can solve their complex problems alone doesn’t make sense. It takes longer if you go it alone.
I like The Shrink. The guy plays golf and he’s been to Scotland. Talk about copassetic. We easily spend the first ten minutes of the session talking about our golf games. He strongly suggests that golf is good therapy for me. Too bad he couldn’t prescribe a membership at a local course, but the insurance nazis would deny me. This guy is geeky cool. Most LSWs and therapists are geeky in some way. I had one therapist who was into fishing and he kept rods and reels in his office. He also had some putters and balls, which was cool because I could always stop our conversation and putt to relax. I get the same benefit from The Shrink. I feel comfortable talking with The Shrink. I feel I can trust him. He’s also turned me on to some cool Buddhist thought that has helped me in the past. I’ve started a form of Buddhist meditation as a way to relax and clear my brain. I’ve attempted something similar but didn’t stick with it.
It was good to unload all the crap from the last 5 months. He was an advocate of my relationship with My Love when we first started, and was disappointed when I told him she had broken off the relationship. Then I told him about my feelings of alienation, isolation, and identity issues. All of these issues have been touched upon in assorted posts over the past few months, so there’s nothing new.
I will not talk about everything that’s discussed with The Shrink. Some things need to be kept private. But I will tell you that I have “homework” before the next session. It’s just some reading. I also need to begin to make small changes in my lifestyle. Only one for now and it can be a small one, like cut back on the junk food or get out and excercise. It’s about small steps towards success.
I won’t say that I see instant results, but I am more motivated and recognize that I need to put things in order. I don’t want the crappy life I resigned myself to this past summer. I don’t like feeling crappy about myself. I am so glad I made the decision to give romance a break. I am not in a place where I can be in a relationship. It will be a long time before I will go there. I’ve got “stuff” I need to deal with and fix.
I am happy to report that, despite my curious nature, I did NOT go into the belly of the beast on Friday.
Black Friday is for crazy people. Those who make the choice to rise too early and stake their claim at whatever retail store, are either smart shoppers or off their rocker.
I guess it depends on your perspective. Some would say that having a plan, shopping as a team, and work the stores to their advantage is smart shopping. I will give them that much. It’s a logical approach to the chaos that is Black Friday.
But most shoppers aren’t like that. It’s a mad dash, grab what you can and sort through it later. That’s a more primeval approach, and the most entertaining. Nothing more stimulating than standing in the aisles at Wally World and watch the trailer trash duke it out over a cheap, “Made In China”, piece of junk. I work with a “kid” – some kid, he’s twenty years younger than I – who works at Wally World. Some of the stories he’s told are too much. One example are the people who slept in the aisles, waiting for the sale to begin. That’s a bit extreme.
So, I am proud to say I avoided that scene, partly because I work at the ungodly hour. But if I had the time and opportunity, I still would avoid that scene like the plague. The closest I came to penetrating the perimeter and going deep into enemy territory was making a stop at our locally-owned music store for some fresh additions to the Christmas/Solstice music library. It was on the way home. I could easily avoid the mall traffic. And it was worth it. I was hoping to find a rare John Fahey Christmas CD, but no luck. What I did find was just as good: some Windham Hill Christmas compilations.
I love the WH catalog. It brings a sense of serenity to the chaotic sturm and drang that is the Christmas season. I got a good laugh many years ago, when I was working for the college radio station. George Winston was all the rage at the time. But Somebody got the bright idea that if it’s instrumental, then it’s jazz.
Nice try. Then somebody in the music press referred to their music as “New Age”.
Wrong again. How about calling it “accoustic music”. Pure and simple. It’s another example of how the record industry loves to label and compartmentalize music. They need to do it for marketing purposes. They deduce that if it doesn’t have a label that identifies the music, then no one will buy it. No wonder the recording industry is losing money to digital downloads. They’re so busy trying to keep the old marketing formula, charging outrageous prices for CD’s and not grasping the concept that it’s so much cheaper to download.
Let’s move on, shall we.
Windham Hill artists are great to listen to in the evening. The music helps me relax, and WH is definitely relaxing. It’s also great for setting a mood. It’s been awhile since I’ve gone down that road.
Sometimes, while listening to a new disc, I’ll discover some interesting takes on a familiar tune. I put on one of the WH Christmas discs when I came home. I sat down in The Man Cave to unwind a bit, closed my eyes to take in the music, and sat bolt upright, surprised by one of the tunes. The artist alludes me at the moment, but it was a guitarist interpretting “Angels We Have Heard On High”. The surprising, and very cool part, was that it was played as a Brazilian samba. It was great, it totally worked, and it made me smile.
One of Life’s little pleasures.
This one’s been rolling around in my brain for most of the weekend. It’s one of those philosophical questions that reach out and slap you in the face from time to time. This one comes from a John Grisham novel called “Playing For Pizza”. More on the plot, but here’s the question:
What am I doing here?
The story concerns a washed-up third-string NFL quarterback, who’s only option is to play in the professional league in Italy. His world has been completely turned upside-down. In the process, he begins to learn what life is all about through Italian eyes. He learns how to live well.
I finished the book in a few hours on Monday and walked away finding something I didn’t expect to find. I found myself mirroring the main character, and asking myself the same question:
What am I doing here?
My love had sent me a response to some of the posts I had written in these pages. One of the discoveries she made that we were “very good together but frighteningly stuck”. What does that mean? Did it mean our relationship wasn’t progressing the way she hoped? Did it mean I wasn’t progressing the way she hoped, or was she more concerned about her role? If we were that good together, it would be a step forward to bring this issue to the table and discuss it as a couple.
My guess is that she was waiting for the shoe to drop. She had been married twice. They were short courtships and quick weddings. Without going into details, both of her ex-’s betrayed her trust and hurt her deeply. We had two blips on the radar within the context of our relationship. While most relationships would take the experiences and learn from them, we separated for brief periods. It’s my guess she did that as a way to reassess the relationship. They were tow painful periods in our relationship.
Frighteningly stuck? Can a relationship have those times when it’s necessary to just “be” – taking time and recharging your emotional batteries? Were we “stuck” in the sense that we weren’t progressing and a couple or as individuals? Those are valid questions and could very well be applied to My Love and I.
Can you get unstuck? Is it possible to step back, see the realtiohnshiip for what it is, and make the necessary changes to make the relationshiip vital and interesting?
All questions to be answered at a later time.
It’s Election Day. If I were in Chicago I’d say, “vote early and vote often”.
It’s a gorgeous sunny day which made walking to the polls a wonderful experience. After a short line and an even shorter ballot, I made my way back. I decided to talk the long way, so to speak. Deering Oaks Park is a wonderful space, designed by Frederick Olmstead, the same man who designed Central Park in New York City. There are wading pools and a playground for kids, basketball and tennis courts, horseshoe pits, a very quirky baseball field (very short down the line and a “deep” center field of 350 feet), and wonderful walking paths under a variety of trees. As I walked through the park, I found some chestnuts on the ground. I hadn’t seen chestnuts since I was a kid in Bangor.
But the crown jewel of the park is the duck pond. The perimeter of the pond is surrounded by a 3-foot stone wall with flat cap stones. People like to sit at the edge and feed the ducks, along with the seagulls who come inland to “slum” in the park and steal the bread from the ducks. Today the pond was full of ducks, splashing and quacking.
In the center of the pond is a simple fountain. There are colored lights that come on after dusk, making the fountain look like a beacon coming up from the water. About fifteen years ago, there was a week-long festival in the park, put on by the Chamber of Commerce. One of the highlights of the week were the Chinese fireworks that were set off over the pond. It would stop traffic, turning State Street, Park Avenue and Deering Avenue into parking lots. I was living four street up from the park at the time. My Ex- and I would walk down and spend the evening.
Today, it was kicking fallen leaves, breathing deeply, and “looking up”. I remember a story I’d read when I was a boy. It’s was called “Frederick”, and it’s about a mouse who lives in a stone wall with other mice. Rather than help gather food for the approaching winter, Frederick is content to sit on the wall, basking in the warm sunshine. The other mice aren’t too keen on him not offering to help. But later, when the winter winds are howling and their food supply is dwindling, the other mice come to Frederick and ask him about what he stored for the winter. What the mouse stored were memories of the warm autumn days, the feeling of the stones on the wall, and the colors of the world surrounding him.
I was always touched by that story. For me, it’s about taking stock in the world around you, and keeping those cherish memories tucked away until the right moment. Someday you’ll pull them out when you need a laugh, when you want to remember a loved one, or to remember a time from childhood, when the only care you had was having a friend to play with or a bike to ride.
On a day like this, I’ll pull out memories of jumping in huge piles of maple and oak leaves. I’ll remember walking to school and listening to the crunch of the leaves under my Stride-Rite sneakers. I’ll remember hikes with church youth groups, stuffing scarecrows with my children and propping them up in lawn chairs in front of the house, and a first kiss. That happened on a football fan bus, heading south to Portland for the State Championship game. She was a year ahead of me. She also was the one who pulled me into a supply closet after school, teaching me to French kiss. We kissed on the way down and coming home, scrunched down in the seat so that no one would notice. She went out of my life as quickly as she came in, and I didn’t stand a chance.
I also remember the first time My Love and I first made love. It was around this time. We began our afternoon walking in her neighborhood, kicking leaves and holding hands. All the time in the world was ahead of us, and all the time was what we needed. I won’t get into details, but it was the perfect day.
And it was the perfect night.
Create your memories today. Let them bring you warmth when your life gets cold.
Here’s where it all goes down hill.
I have a theory about the post-Halloween weather in the Northeast. Here on the coast, once the candy has been gobbled up and the costumes put away, the weather seems to take a turn for the worst.
Rapidly.
My Daughter’s brithday falls in early November. Ever since she was old enough to have birthday parties, we’ve had Indian Summer-like weather around her birthday, so her parties were always held outdoors. I never thought leaf diving was a traditional party game, but we turned it into one.
But after that glorious splash of warmth, the temperature takes a dive and the chill in the air is more than just chilly. It’s cold, and it’s worse if it rains. Autumn rain is the worst because it is so cold. The sole purpose of an autumn rain is to bring down the remaining leaves on the trees.
This has been a good year for wanderlust. I haven’t acted on the urges yet and I know I should. Considering all the emotional maelstrom I’ve put myself through, you think I would get away more often. That would be a correct assumption. Lately, though, I’ve been questioning this wanderlust.
When does wanderlust and the desire for a change of scenery get misinterpreted for avoiding reality?
There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to get outta Dodge, but I seem to find excuses not to. Is it necessary for my wellbeing to hit the road every so often? Hell, yeah! So…. WHY NOT? Good question, gentle reader. Why do I find reasons NOT to do anything instead of creating solutions to help me achieve my goal?
That’s two questions- both of them valid and complimentary.
I say shit or get off the pot. Just go. Create possibilities instead of building barriers.
Here are some places I’ve thought about:
1. My sister’s in Massachusetts. She and her husband are empty nesters, sort of. My nephew is at the Massachusetts Police Academy. My youngest neice is at school in Fitchburg. Her older sister has two years of college under her belt but, for reasons not yet explained, she opted for coming home and working in her father’s small-town law practice. I haven’t seen for since the end of May, just before My Love and I parted ways.
2. My parent’s house…again. No. Dad and I had an argument about my financial situation. He is afraid I’m going to fall through the cracks. For years he’s been pushing the real estate game on me, put I’m not playing. Things need to cool down before I drop in again.
3. No place in particular. It’s always a good third option. I’ve thought about driving to Boston, Quebec City, and New York City. I’ve thought about pulling out the ol’ Rand McNally, close my eyes and drop the finger at random. Where the finger goes, the rest of me shall follow.
Would somebody give a good shove to get me started?
Look up.
I constantly remind myself to stop and look up. We all miss a lot of good stuff by staying at ground level. All the interesting stuff is up there above the ground. We can see things that are long missing from modern buildings.
Yesterday was a gorgeous day for a walk. It was cool, but not cold, and the sun was out a good portion of the day. It was a perfect day to leave the house and explore, a perfect day to breathe deeply and look around.
My town is a great town to walk. It’s an old seaport that still functions (barely) as a working waterfront, but has become more trendy. Like most seaports, there are a lot of interesting buildings. Lots of brick, but some with stone facades. There are modern skyscrapers built within the last twenty years. Can refer to a building as a skyscraper if it’s twenty floors orless? The best walking is in a section of town called the Old Port. There are cobblestone streets and brick sidewalks. The buildings in the Old Port once housed merchants’ shops and warehouses. Now, it is the biggest tourist attraction in town. There are plenty of places to shop or get a coffee. There are harbor tours and ferries to the outer islands in the bay. If you’re hungry, there are restaurants serving everything from pizza to seafood. Our cruise boat season came to a close yesterday, and it was estimated that each passenger contributed between $50 – $100 to our economy. Lots of people like to spend time in the Old Port.
I was walking downtown about 4-5 months ago and I happened to look up to study a building on Congress St. There are some interesting buildings there, but I know nothing about architecture. I only know what is pleasing to my eye. My friend The Squire is a huge fan of Portland architecture. He would make a great tourguide.
I’m standing across the street from this particular buiding, and I notice that it has an art deco facade. I didn’t think there were any examples of art deco in my town, which is why I had never noticed this building before. I remember The Squire mentioning it at some point during a visit.
I stood there, contemplating this building, and noticed that the facade had wonderful, organic lines just below the peak of the roof. These lines resembled a vine wandering aimlessly across the building. My curiosity peaked, I looked on either side to find more fascinating architectural characteristics on neighboring buildings. I wondered why I had never noticed these building before. What was preventing me from noticing these very cool things?
I never took the time to look up. My gaze was never lifted above the second floor. But how tragic would it have been if, after living here for over twenty years, I had never stopped to take the time and study these buildings. Ever since that day, if I happen to be walking downtown, I will take time to stop and look up. It makes me smile when I notice something new and unique that makes that structure worth studying.
We should all be looking skyward. We should all be looking for inspiration above the second floor. Our sights need to be raised above what we know, to give us a different perspective.
Look up. The stuff on the ground – we’ve all seen it before. The stuff up high – it’s all new.
