Gently Bent; Needs Some Straightening Out

It's fitting that I'm writing a post on Groundhog Day about history repeating itself.  The great Spanish philosopher George Santayana (1863-1952) said in The Life of Reason: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it", suggesting that if we are not cognizant of our past mistakes, we'll continue to make the same mistakes over and over again.  I guess that's two-fold in that you have to be aware of them when the possibility of the mistake presents itself... and you have to do the work to make sure you've learned something to prevent it to begin with.  In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean questions himself several times... can he actually be the thief as accused... or does he have the potential to be better... and does he even know which is which?  It's something he struggles with throughout his life, particularly when faced with different challenges.  This blog has been very cathartic for me to work through many issues (and by 'many', I mean a whole shitload).  One area that I have a particular mental block is having to do with love... perhaps because there are several heads working against each other when they should be in tandem... perhaps my DNA makeup... perhaps the constant fight I have going on in my head... or perhaps it's just my eternal damnation.

For those who are familiar with my 30 year love life, this is the point where you can think "here we go again"... and go back to your internet porn.  For those gluttons for punishment or those who like to endure pain and suffering... I have managed to derail another start of a relationship.  Taking all things into consideration, I could blame the other person.  That's what most people do because, let's face it, then we don't have to look at ourselves for contribution to the problem.  In this instance (as with some others lately), it's not the other person.  In fact, he couldn't be a better person in every aspect.  I targeted him because of the kind of person that he is... caring, monogamous, kind, compassionate and funny, to name a few... all of which are difficult to find in guys in this day and age.  I instantly fell in love with the idea that he would be a safe bet and, coming off a run of assholes, it was a welcomed change and I jumped right in.  I could instantly see our lives several years down the road and it felt really comfortable... add water, instant relationship.  And then the familiar scenario happened where someone falls for me before I get a chance to really know them. I, instead, spend my time managing the situation or holding them back, never really figuring out what I feel, so I don't feel.  After 4 weeks, I totally connected with the idea of him rather than the actual person, none of it his fault.  This has happened to me in the past. 

After twenty-five years of one relationship after another, some for many years... I have always been on the relationship track way back to when I turned 21.  While my friends were out banging everything that walked, I never had much of a single life, content to be building a life with someone in our home.  After my last major relationship about 5 years ago, I haven't had much luck with steady relationships.  Since that time, while all I've ever known is relationships in the past and I continued to steer myself in that direction, changes in that time period have given me a different outlook and contributed to a me that I don't recognize. At 45, I have no idea of who I am when it comes to love.  I have no idea what it is that I need from someone or sex... or what I really want.  All I have is a track record where I've applied a formula that doesn't work for me in my current situation.  Coming to grips with that, much less accepting it, will be difficult for me being so set in my ways all these years.  The wheels of a cart can jump out of the indentation in the road, but they'll eventually fall back in.  Introducing the person that I think I am in my head with the person I actually am (in thought, practice and preference) will be a tall order.  Meanwhile, I'm steering clear of involvement along the relationship lines and sticking to areas of honest, self-discovery.

Hope Love

Walking Ten Miles to School

It's not easy getting older.  When you're young, in your teens and even in your twenties, you really don't think about getting older... it's almost unfathomable.  And when you're older, you can't stop thinking about when you were young and how you wished you knew then what you know now.  The mid-life crisis is a reality.  As your friends and relatives get older and get sick  and die and you, yourself, develop health issues, you're smacked in the face with reality.  Having my Dad live with me has been a rude awakening and now dealing with clearing out my Uncle's house after his wife died last year and he's not healthy enough to live there by himself.  As I clear out drawers and closets, the reality is that what you have kept your whole life, to show for your life, becomes someone else's burden to clean up.  70+ years of money spent, memories had and things amassed are stripped away, thrown away and emptied out.

Life was simpler then.  No responsibilities, no goals to be met, no pressures and no stress.  Your biggest problem was what you were going to do with your Saturday.  Those were the days.  We had it so good and we didn't even know it.  Things that I miss:

-  My Mom calling me in the kitchen to lick the beaters after she made a cake (with raw egg in the mix).
-  Playing with my Rolls Royce Matchbox car without worrying about having to make car or insurance payments and whether it'd be stolen or dinged up in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
-  Walking to the bus stop with a foot of snow on the ground, your nostril frozen shut and not worrying about frostbite or being stolen by a guy in a van.  And what's a 2-hour delay?
-  Taking in some sunshine laying up on the back window ledge of the car, without being seat-belted in or in a car seat.
-  Leaving the house at 8 a.m. on a summer day and not coming home until dark, walking into the house with the back door open and the screen door unlocked and parents asleep in the living room.
-  Lathering on baby oil for a few hours in the sun to get that cancer-free, deep, dark tan.
-  Torching model cars by spraying something flammable, like hair spray, while holding a match in the other hand.
-  Getting a big bag of candy for Halloween without having to check it for pins or razor blades or having to test your blood sugar for diabetes.
-  Playing doctor with the neighbor kids and not having to collect a copay or turn someone away for not having adequate coverage.
-  Being able to dream about being an astronaut, fireman or police officer when you grew up without even considering the danger involved in your career choice.

A Diamond in the Rough

It's that time of year, with Valentine's Day fast approaching... love is in the air (and, completely unrelated, the flu).  With it being cold out, you're forced indoors and under the covers.  If you're lucky to have a dog or, better yet, a significant other... then you have it made.  It's funny how we're like the bears in the sense that we hibernate in Winter.  Still, I can't imagine lying in a cave for many months, but the peace and quiet and rest would be nice.  Lord knows, I have enough fat to live off.

I know a lot of people who have found a special someone lately, myself included.  The Greek god of love must be shining down on us all... maybe 2013 is the year.  Now 45, I don't think I've ever been so sexually charged as I am at this age.  I totally believe in guys maturing sexually later in life... not to be confused with your teen years and early twenties when your wiener got hard with the slightest breeze.  It's different at this age because you know what to do with that energy.  This is most evident if you've watched twink porn or been with someone younger... dumbasses have no idea what they are doing or how to do it.  It's all about getting to the climax whereas when older, it becomes about the whole experience... for both people and how giving can be just as pleasing to yourself as receiving (touch, or whatever the case may be).  Foreplay isn't part of the equation with the younger guys.  Much like getting a present and tearing through the wrapping to reveal what's inside, many aspects are lost in the action... admiring the paper... appreciating the time, effort and manner that it's wrapped... the possibility of saving the paper/recycling, not to mention the mystery of guessing what's inside.  And while this isn't a bashing of younger guys, it does address how most younger guys have no idea how to think of someone else and want things immediately.  This is most easily seen when you hold back sex on a twenty-something... the interest in you is quickly lost.  Maybe this generation is used to getting things instantly by pressing a key.  Constant stimulation is required.

It's funny... Robin and I go to this local coffee shop for open mic night.  The first time, there were a bunch of older, Vietnam war types that sang folk music.  This past week, there were a lot of hipsters who got up and sang and played the guitar.  And while I can appreciate any type of artistic outpour, it's hard for me to watch someone singing about strife and hardship when it's possible that they've never gone through any.  Very few could sing well and play at the same time and I suspect their parents telling them they can do 'anything'... (and not 'anything that they set their minds to' (because that would require doing the work)), is why they got up there.  Much like graduating from college and expecting a $70k/year job but not getting one, you aren't owed anything and you just can't show up.  There's always work to be done and relationships are no different.  You can't pick up a guitar and play a beautiful song unless you've learned the notes and practiced.

I think gays have a hard time committing because they don't put much effort into anyone other than themselves.  They're always looking for the next best thing and don't see what's in front of them.  They fail to connect in a way that love needs to grow and don't do the work to nurture it into something deeper.  As a result, they go from person to person never having anything real... just a surficular (only on the surface) interaction that's unfulfilling. 

I'm glad I met the guy I'm dating.  At 39, he's very caring, attentive, selfless, compassionate and one of the best people I know.  He's a rarity in this 'lifestyle'... a real gem... and I'm so thankful that he came into my life.

A Bunch To The Gut, A Blow To The Ego

Well, it's mid-January... just enough distance from New Year's Eve to start working out and have it not be cliché.  I'm done traveling and being sick, so I have no other excuses.  It's been a real eye-opener as I walked into the gym yesterday and asked the girl at check-in to look up the last time I was there.  I thought it had been about 7 months, but she didn't see any record of me being there at all in 2012.  Yikes!  With my back problems last winter and then starting work in the spring, it doesn't surprise me, but it doesn't make me proud either.  And despite asking her specifically to keep a straight face when looking up the information, I could see "welcome back, fatty" written all over her face.  The walk of shame, back into the gym... never any fun.

And the fun didn't stop there... after stepping onto the scale and doing a fat percentage reading and body mass index, I am back to where I was two years ago, if not worse.  Ugh.  20.4% body fat and 194 lbs.  Furthermore, I started out doing some spinning on the bike to get warmed up and 5 minutes into my 20 minute ride, I was winded and my ass hurt, and I was praying for some 'downhill' coasting that never came.  I managed to get some stretching in, my ab work and a light upper-body workout.  All-in-all, I was there about an hour and a half.  Not a bad start, but I have a lot of work to do. 

I don't have the metabolism that I used to, but I've always been fortunate to be able to hide my weight and lose fat fast.  Clothes definitely do make the man, until you're shirtless... then it's your gut and moobs that define you... or don't.  It's a shame that men are judged/measured by their stomach as women are judged by their boobs. People don't realize how much of a belly I have because I hide it.  The above pictures were taken yesterday... and it's amazing how much a black t-shirt can hide.

So, as I did before, this is my declaration to myself and the world... see my belly, hear it roar.  8 weeks until I'm back to work again.  Let the games begin. 

My Time?

Like love, a song only needs a great story that flows well, that is full of harmony and evokes feeling when heard.

In the past, I've been hesitant to bring my current dating situation onto paper... it seems like as soon as I did, it was over and I was left standing there with egg on my face. I guess I see things differently now. After going through about 5 years of not being able to find much that was real, things feel so much differently this time around. It's the first time I feel hope for the future... that I can see someone sitting beside me... walking with me... laying next to me. Maybe I'm different inside or in my head or maybe he's different than all the rest, but I've met a great guy and somehow everything is falling into place. And while it's in it's freshman stage, it feels right. When you least expect it... maybe it's my time for the right one to come along.

Silver Lining

Mid-way through January already... where is the time going?  Well into 2013, I feel like I'm going from one thing to the next, but never getting to a fresh start for the year.  Ending my season last November then going away to Florida for ten days... getting the flu... then dealing with Christmas... getting the flu again... then dealing with New Years and then a jaunt to D.C. with friends for 4 days... it's been a busy off-season for me already.  I am finally back, healthy and ready to get going.  8 weeks from today, I'm back to work again and I'm really looking forward to it.  It's not good for me to have too much time on my hands.  I start to think, and that's not a good thing.

After last year's conspiracy theories and end-of-days bullshit, it was hard to get any kind of focus on the future.  I mean, why even put your hair up in curlers and put on a fresh smock if we're not going to make it through the day?  And while the world isn't any more better off for all the things that have been happening, I can say that I do have some hope for 2013.

My Dad is somewhere in the middle of his treatments and he has completely lost his voice and most of the ability to eat anything solid.  The skin on his neck is showing signs of burning from the radiation, but we knew all this was going to happen.  He has lost some weight and I have to keep after him to eat since all he wants to do is drink Ensure 4 times a day.  I can see it in his color and his weight that this is taking a toll and it worries me since I don't think he's strong enough to fight anything off should he get sick or more worn out than he already is.  And even though he is doing as well as expected, it's difficult to sit and watch him be miserable.  I was never worried about the cancer doing him in since it was treatable, but it was the malnutrition that I've worried about from the start.  I'm trying to not be selfish about it, but if something happens to him, logistically my world will change drastically.  As a result, I am in limbo with any kind of decision I have to make until we see what the next month brings.

Meanwhile, I am finally feeling healthy and I'm ready to start my exercise routine and further curb my poor eating.  I've been doing better... since I got home a month ago, I lost about 10 lbs just from changing my eating habits a little bit.  With winter being my most depressed time, I can honestly say that I've not had many bad days this season.  It definitely helps that I met a really great guy a few weeks ago... and things are going well.  It's the first time in several years that I see a future with someone, which gives me something to look forward to and keep going.  Sometimes all it takes is a silver lining.  It's important to have a focus.

A Simple Theater Outing

I recently watched the amazing performance of Daniel Day Lewis as Abraham Lincoln.  His likeness is uncanny and you almost forget that it's not him.  As Mary Todd, Sally Field turned on her angst-ridden performance as she often times does, whether for Norma Rae, M'Lynn in Steel Magnolias or Nora Walker in the short-lived Brothers and Sisters TV show, it delivered the crying fits that I so expected.  I can see why it garnered awards, but more importantly than the performances was the message of the movie, which can be carried across any minority;  Everyone should be equal.  We all know the story... free the slaves and BANG, he gets shot.  What I liked about this telling was that it was centered more around the fight and circumstances of history in getting the 13th Amendment passed.  With all due respect to the slaves, we didn't see any plantations or Negros picking cotton or getting beaten and even the assassination was down-played, with not even a mention of John Wilkes Booth or his reason... this was centered completely upon how the Civil War played such an important part in getting it passed and the mechanics in the House and Senate.  It was confusing in the telling since back then, the Republicans were today's Democrats, and vice-versa.  Regardless, you sit there wondering how God-fearing humans could feel so poorly about other human beings regarding their rights.  The idea of pulling people from their homeland, stripping them of all rights and treating them like property is incomprehensible.  We've come a long way since then... or have we?

Gays, as a group, have endured a lot of prejudice over time based solely on who we love.  A difficult idea to wrap your head around when being straight comes without thought to straight people, it would seem that if we don't hold hands in public or tell anyone what we do in the bedroom, we should be able to escape the majority of the prejudice, less those gays that have fireworks and pansies shooting out of their asses; let's face it, they have it a little harder and always will.  I guess if we don't fight for our rights for equal treatment under the law, etc., we could just blend in and be tolerated, much like the slaves did, building their families and living the hand they were dealt, doing their 'jobs', but with no rights.  The same could be said about women, although less dramatic since, let's face it, whatever men think about how many rights women should have, at the end of the day, they still want to get laid, so it's a little more tricky.

The idea of people who have all the rights voting on those that do not's rights makes no sense to me.  Would there ever be any progress?  Why would there need to be?  It only threatens the rights of those who have already.  I guess you hope that there's a Lincoln in ever fight;  someone that puts their own life at risk for the lives of the down-trodden.  Eventually, ignorance will filter out and be replaced with human beings that care for other human beings.  The odd thing that we see is those religious, led by their love of a man who loved all, especially the down-trodden, are the last to ever come around.  How is a message at the heart of a mindset so lost in it's followers, even as they are spewing the Word?  And yet, time and time again, each of the minority groups are last-accepted by those who preach love for their fellow man under the guise of religion. 

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".  Is it really self-evident?  I think the prejudice will be with us for a long time, if ever it would be over, especially in this country.  "Give us your tired, your huddled masses" are other words suggesting unity that, somehow, along with other sayings etched in granite or steel, that no more cement our actions than the written Word.  Neither by speech, law, decree or sacred word will change the black heart of the prejudice.

Brother, Can You Spare Some Change

If we're honest with ourselves, to make a new years resolution is almost as pointless as giving up something for Lent... being realistic, how many times have we tried and failed?  It's almost easier to give into it and perhaps tell yourself that it's all too cliché or trite so you don't have to bother... that you're more of an individual for not following the herd... most times, over the cliff to your demise.  And yet, the gyms are full of would-be hopefuls at this time of year. They say if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

The tradition of the New Year's Resolutions goes all the way back to 153 B.C.  Janus, a mythical king of early Rome was placed at the head of the calendar. With two faces, Janus could look back on past events and forward to the future, hopefully righting your wrongs. Janus became the ancient symbol for resolutions and many Romans looked for forgiveness from their enemies and also exchanged gifts before the beginning of each year.  A somewhat tradition in the U.S. has us dressed up in masks seeking a kiss at the stroke of midnight, symbolizing the evil of the mask being purified by the kiss.  Another theory is that whatever you're doing when the new year arrives, is what you'll be doing the rest of the year, so hopefully it's not working too hard or being sick, like I was.

I think it's fun to have something like the new year's resolution.  It's kind of a get-out-of-jail-free card, much like the Catholics have every day.  'Sorry you didn't meet your goal of __________, give it another go' is the new 'say 5 rosaries and it'll be just fine'.  It's a do-over, because don't we have enough shit to worry about and strive for already?  Isn't there enough disappointment? I've been wanting to learn Spanish for, probably, 8 years now.  It's my recurring resolution.

So, having said all that, I'm lining up to make some resolutions.  I'm excited for this year and with everything up for grabs in all aspects of my life, it should be a good year for some much-needed change, and I don't mean the kind that jingles.  I haven't exactly laid any plans out, but having a positive outlook on tomorrow is half the battle for me.  Suffice to say, blogging is one of my pledges, and I'm excited to slowly reconnect with the friends I've made on here.

The Land of the Living

Gone are the days of my youth when I was full of piss and vinegar, not afraid to take a risk or accept a challenge... willing to start all over again from scratch just for the 'fun' of it.  I used to have goals and look forward to things, often times finding ways to turn my life upside down or keep it interesting or push myself.  Instead, I find myself a middle-aged man just treading water, to keep from drowning... not looking for anything... not being able to see anything beyond what's in front of me at the moment.  I'm paralyzed in fear.  Afraid of what, I don't know. Adding more to my plate?  Change?  Death?  Life?  Or is it a combination... possibly that I just may have to engage myself in the land of the living?  Out from the shadows?  Out from the miserable place that I hide?  Where am I?

A few weeks ago, I was watching the movie "Seeking a Friend for the End of the World".  With a giant meteor headed for earth only weeks away, certain things didn't matter as much as they did before.  Consequence didn't mean as much when you didn't have things carrying forward and you were able to just let your guard down and just enjoy yourself... just enjoy what you enjoy and let go of all the stuff that we heap on ourselves.  As I watched the characters in the movie lose their inhibitions and think about what it was that they most regretted not doing, scrambling to get that one last thing in before it was all over and the time ran out, I felt such a calm come over me, having felt like I was a part of the movie.  With the apocalypse teased back in the summer and the end of the Mayan calendar more recently, it isn't that far of a reach to grasp... and with all the zombie movies and TV shows like Revolution, contemplating an end of days seems very probable nowadays.  As I thought about what I would do... who I would want to see one more time, I suddenly felt clear-headed and light and a feeling of relief washed over me.  When the movie was over and I realized that it was only a movie, all of that weight came flushing back in.  Shit.

I've never been afraid of dying, in fact, I think that so much of living is bearable for me because I feel like I have control over how much of my life I will have to endure.  With no religious consequences to consider, I think I look at death as a way out just as those religious may look at heaven; a better place for me to ascend.  I haven't prepared much for the future because I always feel like I'm just making it from one point to another... maybe a task that I have to finish or maybe something to look forward to, but there's no real long-range plan.  For years, it used to be my dog, Shelby, that helped me through the harder times, not wanting to leave her behind.  Now, I guess it's my ailing relatives...  and always having been a person that had control of their life, I resent that I am trapped now.  I cherish the time with them, but all I think about it getting out of here.  At some point, I lost complete control of my life... and quit caring about much of anything.  So buried underneath an avalanche of shit that doesn't seem to stop coming, I live completely on the defensive, only reacting to everyone else's more important thing.  They don't bother asking me what I want or how I am or what I dream about... that's never the question.  If they only knew what I dream about is getting away.  I have a tremendous amount of guilt that my life will start when they're gone.

With my back problems last year, I was afraid to move at all... worried that my back would give out.  And this year, it's the same thing with me having the flu.  I get a good day and then hours later, I'm back in bed.  Coming to grips with my aging body has been difficult having always been the person that could accomplish anything.  It's been a real eye-opener, that I'm not invincible and that the clock is ticking.  I have a sense of fear that my life is over... and that my life is not.  At some point, soon... I need to get a focus... a goal... a purpose.  I need to start enjoying life again, letting go of the bitterness and anger that I have.  To get out from underneath things and do more for me before it's too late.

Why Stop Now?

I saw an interesting movie tonight with Jesse Eisenberg and Melissa Leo... Jesse is a piano prodigy and after a crazy day trying to get to an audition to get into a musical college, this is the piece that he played. I saw a lot of parallels in the movie, but basically, I just liked this piece by an unknown, named Jay Israelson.

Yes, Virginia... There Is...

It came without ribbons, it came without tags, it came without packages, boxes or bags... I ignored Christmas this year, and it still came.  Fortunately, it left much quicker than it came... much like a $10 whore at the end of a long night of tricks... money on the dresser and a slam of the door with no exchange of a number.  Good bye... good riddance... good luck.

Being an atheist, single and not a parent, it seems very logical that I wouldn't be into Christmas, and yet I still tend to fall into all the guilt traps that my friends and society puts on us.  Let's face it, the true meaning of Christmas is buried so far under an avalanche of consumerism, commercialism and hypocrisy, not even the star of Bethlehem can light up a return pathway.  Last weekend, I attended a concert at my friend's church.  It was the telling of the nativity through the songs of the Beatles set in 1969 Pittsburgh.  And while it was excellent (who knew their songs would be able to match up to the birth of Jesus), there were so many perspectives that I lost track of the story along the way.  The message of the whole season is lost any more.

Being a bleeding-heart liberal, oddly, I'm very traditional and conservative in my thinking, especially when it comes to monogamy, love and relationships, but religion as well.  Don't get me wrong, I don't believe in any of it and think it's cult-like and brainwashing and hypocritical, but I have much more respect for someone that follows it to the letter... even though I don't believe a word of it... than for someone who does the a la carte religion, picking and choosing what works for them.  Logically, that rationalization of religion makes more sense to me if they weren't picking and choosing to make themselves feel better (i.e., being a hypocrite) but, for some reason, I'd rather see someone following it whole-heartedly than half-assedly.

"Please, Lord.. let this plane arrive safely without any mishaps or accidents or anyone getting hurt" is my standard prayer when I'm on an airplane.  That's about the only time that I'll have a conversation with 'Him'.  I guess I'm no better than your garden variety Christian... hedging my bets, but from a different angle.  Having been strong-willed since I was young, I've always felt that being religious... needing someone else to give you strength rather than finding it within... was always a sign of weakness.  Are there times I think about if I'm making a mistake by not accepting God... perhaps... but, as with being gay, I have to rationalize it that if I'm standing there on my judgment day and He's in front of me, then it was Him that made me that way... and he'd surely have to forgive me for trying to figure it all out on my own as well without help.  Perhaps I'm too much of a logical realist to just blanketly believe... but He made me that way as well.  It's all His fault.


There's not much about Christmas that I believe in any more.  I don't have a strong sense of family... there aren't any kids around to see it through their eyes... I don't like getting presents... I don't have a partner... I don't believe in running up bills to exchange gifts... or cutting down pine trees for a few weeks... or the religious parts of it.  What it means to me is that there shouldn't just be one day where you are nice to someone or that you spend time with them.. or that you give back or give thanks.  Those should happen all year long, just as you should worship Him, if that's what you believe in.  Meanwhile, for me, it's just another day of trying to be the best I can be.  All the snow, presents and words of good cheer won't change that.

It's That Time of Year...

The holidays are upon us... and it seems like they have been since August.  Whoever says there's a war on Christmas needs to get their head examined; it seems to get earlier and earlier every year.

I took ten days to do some relaxing and visiting in Florida.  I was hoping to meet up with my half-brother Gary for the first time, but that didn't materialize.  Instead, I saw my friends David and David and Rick and traveled between St. Pete, Sarasota, Tampa, Orlando and Daytona.  It was a good way to wrap up a particularly difficult landscaping season but my head wasn't really into it.  I've gained some weight back and wasn't feeling up to laying out in the sun... and I got the flu a few days before I left to come back home, so I was just eager to get back.

I have a number of projects to concentrate on this winter but, first, I need to get myself organized and wrap up a few things before I go forward.  My Dad started his radiation therapy for his throat cancer, so I'm keeping an eye on him, anticipating week 4 - 7 to be more difficult as his throat gets more sore and he won't be able to eat easily.  I'm throwing him a birthday party on Sunday with several relatives that haven't seen each other in many years, so it should be nice.  Thank goodness for my friend Robin who is helping me with the food since I am less than stellar in the kitchen.

I'm doing well with my normal winter depression.  I feel hopeful.  I've already started my diet earlier this week and lost 4 pounds.  I need to get to the gym and get back into my routine.  This is the second end-of-the-season with experiencing back problems and it makes me nervous wondering if I'm going to have a repeat of last year not being able to walk and in bed for months... and how long I'll be able to do this line of work.  At the same time, I'm considering expanding my business next season because I don't feel like I'm accomplishing enough in life any more.  A busy mind is a healthy mind... I have too much down time and I need to push myself.

I'm present in my current self-dealt mood.  It's a good day.

Carrie Underwood Concert

 



Great concert tonight at Consol Energy Center with Chuck. 

The Crush: An Original Poem

Things aren't always as they seem... what's this poem about?

Trek-ing Along

I haven't posted in a while... I have a poem I'm working on... a trip to Tampa for 9 days to meet my half-brother... finishing up my season... and my Dad was diagnosed with throat cancer and I've been trying to deal with that... and really couldn't talk about it (although I need to)... can't deal with logistics and emotions all at the same time. They don't play well with each other. Soon though...

Are We There Yet?

I've been on the go so much over the last couple of months and this past weekend, I attended another Body Electric workshop in Philadelphia... currently at four times attending now.  I blogged about my experiences the other three times, so I'm not going to go into a play-by-play of my experience this time around but, rather, a few other observations. 

The first time I took the class, I was a newbie participant, full of anxiety and apprehension as to what the workshop entailed.  I had a little insight my second time I was a participant (after already having gone through it), so my perspective was a little skewed knowing what was going to happen and when .  With so much of my personal anxiety gone, I found myself living vicariously through the other participants who weren't aware of what was coming.  The third time was a live-in situation where the entire workshop was held at a huge mansion where we stayed there the whole weekend.  The other difference was that I was an assistant for the first time, helping with the setup and logistics of the whole weekend.  This also meant that for the major exercises, we assistants may or may not be needed (depending on the total number of participants), which resulted in a feeling of being half in and out, having only done some of the exercises.  In one instance, we were involved emotionally as if we were a participant and the next, we were attending to some task.  This most recent workshop, with my back still screwed up, I wasn't involved in any of the major lessons, so I had a true 'assisting' experience, mostly being there for the group and not myself.

Before I went into the massage business, I had to seriously think about whether I, a bundle of nervous energy, could actually calm a client down in a massage instead of filling them full of my anxiety.  Low and behold, I proved that I could, but that concern raised itself again this past weekend in regards to my dealing with the other participants.  With the many things that are going on right now in my life, I am particularly full of anxiety and nervous energy.  I also felt that I wasn't up for being prodded emotionally, mentally and physically going into the weekend, but I quickly settled down and gained some center and focus when I got there.

My friends in Body Electric live their lives in a somewhat calm state... they are constantly taking workshops to better themselves and they speak in a low, slow, calm voice.  "I invite you to..." is usually how they start a sentence... and they rarely speak without taking a moment to collect their thoughts.  And while I admire them, this is not me... not by a long shot.  I rarely think about what I want to say... it just comes out and, oddly, I rarely ever take something back I said.  I am usually blunt and don't hold back, so this makes me feel like an outsider in the staff circle.   Also, I am comfortable in the life that I live, almost to the point that I remove uncomfortable situations from even being a possibility.  A good example of this might be my baseball cap.  While I have hair, I wear my hat all the time and don't go into a situation where I can't, except for a funeral or a wedding.  At some point, I have to realize that not putting myself in an uncomfortable situation greatly hinders my life experience.  With all of them being vegans, I was again on the outside when we went out to eat.  And while these aren't all that important, I started to question whether I was totally out of my 'league' and whether I could add to the workshop experience.  Fortunately, while my demeanor isn't like everyone else's, I was able to connect with several people using my intuition and caring, which validates my efforts.  A gift is a present, no matter what packaging or bow you use.

Several things came out of this weekend... first, I realized that while I am different, we all have our ways of reaching out and effecting people's lives.  Secondly, I am no where near where I need to be at either having my body where I want it or being ok where it's at, and that's something that I need to get off the fence about.  Next, I realize that if I'm going to continue to invest in myself with these self-help workshops, I need to move on to the next step to challenge myself to change.  Four times doing the same class isn't exactly pushing me in any direction.  Lastly, I realize that, no, I'm not there yet, and don't think that I ever will be.  Life is a constant flux of change and acceptance, and finding a middle-ground may be a better goal than looking for some end result.  I'm a work in progress... little by little.

What Being American Means To Me

We take a lot for granted;  battles that were waged and won before our time... those who lost their life fighting for our freedoms... more progressed technology and the things that make our life easier... to name a few.  Growing up, I was one of those who didn't think too much about things that were outside of my immediate bubble.  I wasn't involved in politics until I was in my mid-thirties and I didn't really pay much attention to things going on in the world.  While I'm not proud of my ignorance and blind eye, I can honestly say I was more happy then than I am worrying about so much.  Looking at the world through adult glasses yields a pretty dismal view, for the most part. 

I got involved in politics in the Gore/Bush election, and we all know how that turned out.  My immediate thought was to move to another country... and Canada was looking pretty good (eh!).  The puppet movie 'Team America' pretty much sums up the feeling of the country at the time... "fuck yea... we're Americans... we're the best".  It became pointedly clear to me that the rest of the world didn't share our self-love when I was in Paris and received a rather 'cold' reception when I didn't speak much French.  Over time, I became more and more embarrassed by the air of superiority that came over the country... and while 9/11 should have humbled us, it propelled us even more skyward in our 'America-conquers-all-gimme-gimme-you-don't-speak-English-WTF?' mentality.  Yes, the world hates us, that was clear.

My Dad never asked for much for himself.  He got up for 45 years and went to his job on the railroad out in the cold, doing back-breaking work because it was his job to provide for his family, period.  He didn't graduate high school, never went to college and still did well for himself.  That was, of course, in a time where if you worked hard, you could get ahead.  I never went to college... I worked twice as hard as my peers to accomplish all that I had and did well for myself.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be rich... it's all I dreamed about as a kid.  Even my matchbox cars were all Rolls Royces and Lincolns, but I knew even as a kid that I had some hard work to do, starting out with my paper route around 14 yrs old... and the two jobs that I worked while still graduating high school with honors... and putting in long hours to get ahead.  At some point, I gave up that 'dream' of being rich, and I've never been more happier in my life then the day my life went in a different direction from accounting and management to massage therapy... and then to landscaping.  I scaled back my life and kept my debts to a minimum, not really needing more than I already had.  Turns out my American dream was to be happy... not to be rich... just like my Dad's and the members of his family that came to this country before him who started out with nothing.

With the election, I've been floundering on the different messages hoping, like everyone in the country, that someone would come up with some answers and I could feel good about being a Democrat again.  Watching the Republican convention a few weeks back, I found myself at unrest with the constant speaking about the 'haves, and the soon-to-be-haves'...in a society where winning the lottery or a reality show or sport or music contract (straight off the heels of our mothers telling us that we are so special, that anything's possible) is much more plausible than getting anywhere through hard work.  Lost in their message was any talk about just being happy with who you are or what you have and missing was any connection to the founding father's hard work that they supposedly respect.  In listening to my Aunt talk, some of the best times of her life was when they had nothing, ten of them living in one house and helping out any way they could.  With the middle-class almost extinct thanks to the Republicans, we're now forced with a choice of becoming aggressive and back-stabbing towards reaching wealth or settling into the misery of being poor.  When it was the Democrat's turn, the message was very different... full of stories of people's upbringings and how those before them were only trying to make their kid's life a little better.  It was a simple message that resonated with me and suddenly, I felt my connection back to my party, because that's exactly how I feel.

I don't make any excuses for who I am.  I pull weeds and cut grass for a living. I'd rather break my back than trample over the backs of someone else to get ahead.  Perhaps that's a self-defeating attitude to have, but I know that I am, for once, happy.  I know that I will never be rich and that I'll probably work until the day I die, and that's ok with me.  I can look myself in the mirror every day and know that I am probably more Christian than most Christians in my willingness (without punishment or reward) to do what's right and help my fellow man.  When people look back at my life, it will be my helping others that will measure my worth, not how much money I was able to amass before I died.  I don't begrudge the person who needs all that... but I sure as hell am glad that I don't the way that they do which obviously makes them greedy, selfish, paranoid, angry and never at rest.

I am, again, proud to be (this type of) American.

Being

It's been so long since I've written anything of substance.  In fact, the last time I was on a roll was probably the best time for me... I was probably the most happy that I ever was.  I think that getting things off my chest was doing a world of good for me.  When I stopped, things started bunching up in my head again and now I'm a combination of overwhelmed and angry, especially with all the election stuff going on.  There's so much in my head right now... I can't even begin to write.  Baby steps.  I feel an awakening.  Perhaps tomorrow.

The Pinata