a glass of bourbon on the hotel balcony by the beach a poor substitute for a family night prescribed perhaps I have not tried hard enough the way the dice fall always a pair and this is autumn how many springs and summers will I for surely less than more night has calling sunset missed, I blinked midnight scrapped, strapped, a bedouin lies in my bed, perhaps.
notes: I am in Cape May NJ this week, one of my escape hatches, but that does not always let me free of my thoughts, as they are, and so here they are…
on occasion little things like this pop in my head, today, @ work for example, which is strange, usually work is not the place I am musing, must be a friday thing…. anyway, without further pause…
A prayer to absorb from those who came before might I turn to the wind and hear your voices bathe in your wisdom if only for a moment if only a small slice of the vast share with me your vision so I might not repeat the past
the road to purity (that is the term that popped into my head and inspired this post), or the better version (or best) of one’s self, is this just a path to destruction or salvation, or is it a matter of perspective, I spent the whole of the week walking along a beach, cradled in a spider web hammock of self introspection, I mean what else do you do on the beach, oh yeah, normal people, swimming, tanning, a touch of volleyball perhaps (I was a bit more into kadima ball and kites I must confess, back in the day), not me, well, not anymore, somehow the shore has become my temple, my church, my place to unpack the world and move in with just me for a time, an extended sunday morning as sunday is the traditional day of rest so I’m told, the sound of the surf becomes a lullaby for an overactive mind, a drug administered by mother nature in kind, just as intoxicating as any chemical otherwise known by mankind, I am truly moved to a different plane of existence, everything just sheds, or is washed away, glaciers sheer off so easily, alone with my thoughts, conversations I should have had long ago, or did and forgot them, or they have been obscured in the so called real world, no shiny distractions here, no plethora of channels of niche information to browse, the reality of life, the cycle, birds, fish, insects and plants – your breath, all engaged in being what they are or what they were born to be, so odd, us humans, we have the right to decide what version of ourselves in which we reside, and I guess I know, at moments like this, I am not living up to my end of the bargain, the bargain of life that I have been gifted in this limited, there is only so many things you can do with this realization, be better, get better or just accept that perhaps you are not quite the lion on the golden hill you might have thought or were told, but am I shorting the world…? and myself, for not going all out, and where down the road does that mate with actuality indeed, as I walk here among all the broken shells, some seem familiar, a pattern of at once perfect forms of life laid now in tatters, all these thoughts flood my matter, no one will ever know, except this inner-verse that I am conversing with now, I suppose it is this way with everyone, even those we think have the perfect life, from the outside, who knows who they really are unless you walk in their skin for awhile, along a beach, see what washes up, hearing their thoughts, wearing their feet.
I am perhaps worse than most, to actually like the confines of the yoke of comfort, much like egg yolk it is sunny, gooey and oh so comforting rolling like delicious lava all over the plate (and in that process infecting everything), but perhaps that plate needs to be swapped with a contemplate (or a quantum plate?), as I said I might be guiltier than most, the familiar is a familiar coat, every pocket worn, every corner turned, it is so easy to slip into the easy cave and slip on your slippers and slumber into oblivion, but life is finite, as is our choices, common things just feel great, I imagine that is our evolution, our protection, but we must use that thing that raised us out of the norm (intellect) and overcome those barriers of Darwinism.
All this because I ordered some Korean fusion food today. I saw an article online and a place was within a couple miles of my office. I have had tons of Korean food before (hello, Ft Lee is a few towns over) but I fell for comfort the world over. So maybe I won’t like a lunch one day, better to break the yoke/yolk and say…. I tried something different today.
Sometimes roads lead somewhere else, somewhere unexpected, GPS is not a human trait, and that, is a good thing.
and not to be droll but comments and thoughts are always appreciated, thanks!
Of course the ole tradition of making resolutions… much older than you might think in a blink, the early traces are back to Babylon (more of a right of honoring the harvest) but our tradition is most likely traced back to Janus (a two faced god… well, in a good way) whom could look back at the past year and into the new one (and sacrifices were made hence to ensure the year to come). But resolutions… like the breath of wind upon the prairie, gone in nary a second as the dreamy bubble of the holiday expires and we climb back into our normal star ship of life (and blast off forgetting). So, dispatch with resolutions. If you want something done in your life commit to a revolution. That is a plan of action in the place of words. The latin is “revolutio” quite literally meaning a turn around and if that is what you seek – seek revolution! If your tool is resolutions they will wind up as bits of fast food wrappers on the side of the highway of life in a few moments by. Revolution takes effort, planning, put through and then… more effort. Revolutions are never won and done, they are messy, they are looked back upon with gilded guides but in the moment – nothing glorified as such – but the end result is what matters most.
You want to make a change? Commit to a revolution in the scope of the next revolution of our planet around the sun, that new year, from this then old one. Not so far now we will already have come, the countdown begun has the first shot rung?
Shades of My Garden 