Saturday, December 9, 2017

Morning Euphoria (and other perspectives)

Sometimes I write a letter to someone and feel like the whole world should read it. Sometimes it's just ego telling me I might get some attention, positive reactions, response, or feedback. Sometimes it is a deeply intuitive sense of connection to an ethereal universal feeling that suggests the words might actually help save humanity from self-destruction and/or record a meaningful moment in the epoch of human existence on this planet. I don't think this next letter is any of those things because I think it may be all of those things and more. In that sense, it likely dilutes any profound meaning or value while possibly giving some modicum of worth to the egocentric babblings that give me my own little mental madhouse in which I can find refuge and amusement when I wake up refreshed enough to find it.

Feel free to decide for yourself because, after all, that is the only thing we can do.

lol lam laa :)

If this in any way gives cause for pain of any kind to anyone, please do not keep it inside, please let me know and work with me to find out why... for my intent is to do no harm and to offer something worthwhile... I hope I achieve my intent, always. That last statement just expanded and became a part of the right column (or pane) of this blog and seeks further edification and sharing. That wonderful feeling of clarity comes over me right now and I thank you for inspiring it. May it do no harm. :)

Your first paragraph, yes, it is so true and so much of what I do to... though I do it differently (than you and than most people as I certainly use different words, and a lot more of them, which makes your writing more valuable because it is more succinct, on topic, neat, and therein offers more clarity and yet, my way amuses me and offers me more insight and amazement and pleasure, so I am grateful for our communication because it provides me with both my way and your way and the best of both), the outcome - turning lemons into lemonade, finding some positivity in everything, even humor, that is my way. I do it internally in silence as you do but also through words (redundantly and repetitively as may become obvious any moment now lol lam), my way meanders through thickets full of thorns and spiders and snakes (am I remembering a stereotype of what boys are made of or am I hearing a Carly Simon song in my head here? lol lam... of course both and more) but I do get to what many have called an overwhelming perspective of sugar and spice and everything nice in the end when I close my eyes and let my world unfold around me and sooth me and lead me to the awareness that I am part of everything as is everything.

Then I start all over again trying to interact and understanding the world outside of my head.

See? A lot more words and meandering lol lam :)

I am so happy we continue to communicate and you are ok with whatever I share. My butt still hurts when I poop and blood, still, and yes, another doctor, I should do... cryptic phrasing serves it's purpose... and tell the new doctor that the other half dozen doctors I saw this year say nothing is wrong. Naturally nothing is wrong with dying, we all do it and it is a natural part of the life cycle that no one cn avoid as far as we know, but come on, chronic pain and bleeding should not be a natural part of daily life, right? There are many who know the limits of the medical profession and industry better than I and yet, if they even seemed like they cared I might buy into their meaningless words a bit more. Two of them with a lot of expensive letters after their names did expensive exams of the poop shute, colon and rectum and anus, not necessarily in that order. The last guy looked three times. Way too impersonally for me so I won't be back in spite of his highest ratings on the doctor rating websites. Still, nothing to be concerned about, they all say.

Happy happy joy joy lol lam laa :)

Seriously, I woke up happy and I am having much fun today in spite of the poop pain. Naturally that provides the opportunity to dig deep into my psyche and mine for the angst and agonies cuz the euphoria provides a sense of invincibility. It is a wonderful feeling (and all ego aside, we won't pretend it is not true and real, even if that seems like an illusion {or delusion} to those who do not understand the awareness that brings one to this place of consciousness).

I realized last night that I have not sat back comfortably in a recliner or couch to relax and watch TV or listen to music or write in a year and three quarters. That is sad. In the past couple of days I reached a new level of understanding and acceptance of life and the people in it and giving up on close personal friendships as I felt myself moving from hoping Jackson or others will maintain closeness to accepting distant family relationships like anyone in the world can be and actually is instead of being close personal individual trusted friends. That is sad. It is sad when someone who is trusted to share all the hopes and fears and vulnerabilities inside suddenly disappears and does not care to be there when you feel weak or afraid. Very sad, but I am so very happy I have reached that point of acceptance again.

Maybe that is why some do not feel comfortable sharing their most vulnerable weaknesses, their fears and pains. Maybe some have experienced the sadness of depending on someone outside of themselves to listen, to respond, to care and they disappeared once too often so we reach a point of not sharing, not hoping, and not allowing ourselves to depend on anyone outside of our self. I know I am there inside, somewhere, but I also know I still nurture the hope and hunger to share an intimate dependency of trust so I experience an agonizing loneliness. I so hope you don't.

Did you notice how the pronouns morphed from general external to mutual to you?

Shhhhh, that would be telling lol lam lam :)

Roller coaster rambling is so much fun (even more than an open sleigh of some configuration). This is the waking up happy and in love with myself and everything mood I am in. I can let the roller coaster roll through what may appear, in words, to be deep sadness and profound pain and it is - make no mistake that it isn't - yet the joy of feeling it and experiencing it and expressing it overwhelms any pain or fear or doubt or weak feeling because in expressing it I find strength and hope and joyous celebration.

Makes sense to me (so there's a party going on in my head lol lam).

In case you did not know, I am actually laughing when I lol lam... it may not be heard in the words, but I am :)

And smiling such a self-satisfied smile :)

Yay too. :)

I caved in last night and ordered Italian. $40 which should have easily been two big meals and could have been four, but I ate it all in one sitting. Eggplant parm, spaghetti, more eggplant parm, and a calzone with extras inside. And a salad. Still, I no longer drink anything but water 98% maybe 99% of the time. That helps keep me from going too far over the 220 pound mark.

I read through the doctor's paperwork that was posted on the hospital portal last night. The paperwork says my weight is normal. The paperwork also says that I am a light smoker. This is official medical documentation that insurance companies can review and they can't even get basic intake information correct. What a sad state of affairs in such an expensive industry.

What books are you reading? I miss reading. Reading puts me to sleep now. The last time I read was around the time the last Harry Potter book came out. I read those and all of Stephen King and so much more during the first decade of this century, millennium, even. The library was part of my weekly rounds. I loved the atmosphere in the big libraries. I was getting books by mail from the library too. I miss my library. I forgot whether it was 10 or 20 thousand books in storage up north. more that 20 thousand, I think. Even more magazines. I was getting more than a hundred different magazine subscriptions in the 1980s, the peak years. And the more than 10 thousand vinyl recordings. I miss my collections suddenly so much more than I usually do. Most days I barely think about them, though they are ever present in a layer of consciousness just below the surface, a layer I am always aware of, yet I've learned to skim or skip over as I wander through my daily activities Jane is the only one interested in the storage stuff of the people in my local physical environment. Local has become up to an hour away these days as people move around this area. Soon, California will be local (don't know whether to laugh or cry, so I'll laugh lol lam lal) :)

While I love the intimacy of personal correspondence (and even love the intimacy of blogging and the intimacy is very real for me here as I pour myself into words for all to see), intimacy really should be a lot closer than this sometimes, ya know? :)

Maybe you disagree and I understand that words can be as intimate as any connection, I've been there more than a few times. These words I share with you are as close to my core, as unfiltered and vulnerable as any I share I think.

This is intimacy too.

Your county library, I read the word county and realize I am a caretaker of my county. Hundreds of thousands of people and I have a role in every one of their lives in my job. Wow. Are you in LA county? New York of Kings or... those are huge counties. So many people. And then I realize that every county has an emergency management department or division or office or person. In the smallest counties, it's the sheriff who serves as just about everything. Sometimes it's the fire chief or mayor, but there are counties without either I think. Small places with few people who pretty much govern and take care of themselves rather informally. And outside of this country, so many other ways of social agreements and peace. That is what government is, ultimately, just social agreements intended to keep the peace. Pity they wander so far from their purpose when they get too big.

Someday I feel like that last paragraph could be worth reading, in fact, this is one of those letters that feels like valuable writing for humanity and posterity (or is that just my ego and euphoric mood? lol lam)... perhaps with some excellent editing lol... but it is written to you and it should not be shared without editing, fictionalizing, depersonalizing. So I edit, fictionalize, generalize, and depersonalize wondering if it is disrespectful to the level of sacrilegious or considerate?

One person's reverence is another person's sacrilege.

The truth is that some the greatest writings, fiction or non-fiction, are those that are deeply personalized while still being universal.

As an avid reader (yu are still reading this so I make an assumption with a mischievous grin), does that not make sense? Agree or disagree, Very seriously, I'd really love to know your thoughts on this thought about writing.

That reminds me that I loved Stephen King's On Writing ... it is a top ten non-fiction book in my library. Just one more reason I love King.

And suddenly the phone rang, twice.

Sarducci called to invite me to his party next Saturday. Helen called to ask me to stop by today to fix her shower. She would take me to dinner tonight, but my digestive system is still coping with the Italian food pig out (no pain, no gain lol except the gain in this instance defied {and defiles} the intent of that phrase, aye? Anyway, no pain or discomfort other than bloat and pain on the toilet seat, so far, thank goodness... crazy as I am, I might change my mind and go to the crazy buffet by the evening.. if only because it is so appropriately named).

I checked my softball calendar and saw there was no game today so I told Helen I'd be there about 5 as I have a party later tonight (she doesn't party or socialize in large groups much partly or even mostly because she does not enjoy the social bullshit most people consider communication which is why we relate well and is usually in bed by 9 PM so I stopped asking her to come along long ago and she's good with that cuz she knows she's welcome) and I thanked her and put it on my calendar.

I thanked Sarducci for his call and invite and put that on my calendar. He said he knows I am not on Facebook much (most people use it more than telephones or any other form of communication, even as a personal social calendar) and that is why I sometimes don't show up to his parties. Good deal, you want me, call me (or at least text me)... or write me a letter if it's not needing a time-sensitive response :)

Facebook, sigh, it is such a misnomer. It is the single most powerful reason that people do not actually have as much face-to-face communication as they used to. Used to be that distance was the primary reason, but I really think if a scientific study could be done, people who live more than 100 miles away from each other who are not Facebook-dependent actually see each other and communicate better than people who live in the same town or city who are Facebook-dependent. I think the DSM-VI needs to include Facebook, or at the very least Internet-dependency as a category of mental disorder classifications lol (actually, there was controversy about this when DSM-V was being written so while I laugh, the thought is not as absurd as it may first appear).. As far back as 2011, Madison Avenue and techies were talking about Facebook Addiction. There is actually growing evidence that it dis-orders a lot of minds. Can clinical evidence be far behind?

Yeah, so there I am off on a linking tangent again so here you go, another letter in your box. Since the links have begun it means I am rolling along and ready to head to my babbling blogging mode. I hope this roller coaster of words and topics was fun for you. It was much fun for me and I feel even better than I did when I woke (euphoria is infinite, ya know?) because resolution and reassurance emerged from responding to your words. I love it when the writing process works. :)

May today start out easier than most days and turn into a beautiful day full of love and laughter and quiet peace. I hope the noise of the world outside is quiet and some life flies and flutters by your windows. I hope you feel like enjoying the world outside your door and the weather welcomes you with comfortable breezes and the sun warms your face. May it be a good day. :)


I wish the same for all of you.

Narf :)

Monday, November 13, 2017

Autobiofocal?

Other than a play on words merging autobiographical with bifocal, I have no explanation to offer for the title which might mean it's profundity is beyond comprehension for the moment or the rash on my belt line means more than it could ever mean, whatever it is. The sun is also rising, which means, because it is a Monday and not a holiday, that I must prepare for a work day. Before I head out the door to join the madness humans call life, I shall share a bit of my correspondence with J (along with the usual parenthetic asides, explanatory notes, background information (and music}, assorted sundries and other additives designed to amuse {really, not meaning to confuse} and entertain and otherwise encourage you to know me, always hoping you might actually want to, ya know?) simply because I want you, someone somewhere out there, to somehow understand who I am and maybe, just maybe, want to be my friend. I apologize to J if this in any way does not feel good or right, but I want to share everything with someone and until I find my own personal precious individual someone, I offer everything to everyone. How else will she find me?

I woke after laying down to sleep shortly after dinner and found the urge to write mixing with the frustration of not having alternative writing positions that are required for comfort and health in this body because this body is rebelling against sitting too much in some very awkward and uncomfortable (and occasionally itchy and painful, I'll leave it at that for this blog but you can find the gory details elsewhere if you are that curious... or morbid)... so I reached for the mini-laptop and attempted to type laying on my side. This proved even more frustrating due to the typing happening far slower than the mind was pouring words into the fingers so I shifted to a prone position with three pillows propping up the upper body and that was better, reminiscent of ow I used to write as a teenager, until the lower back said enough and I concluded the letter.

Let's see what was revealed, for what it's worth...

ok, so i try another new way to write... maybe i need more pillows... maybe i should try to find a voice to text system that works for me... this room stinks... i laugh...

Sitting too much has created some body dysfunctions so if I am to continue writing as I must for my happiness and clarity and positivity and sanity (among other kind of important things for maintaining life in this body), I must come up with alternatives... I am finally facing just how much I miss a recliner, a couch, and a bed (I have an air mattress and a fairly comfortable desk chair for now, but a recliner offers the most comfortable writing position and a couch offers an alternative sleeping position necessary for body comforts and health at some points along the way). This may be the longest I've gone without all three in this journey through this life and the physical discomforts are finally taking their toll on this rapidly (time is relative) aging body.

Returning to the teenage experience, living in the parental apartment, sleeping on a two inch thick foam cushion that was the bed on old convertible couch, Writing in a prone position, pillows propping up my upper body and head...

Increasing font size to huge might help at this angle of view (ah, the darkness and the eyes don't always get along)...

So many thoughts... obstacles... solutions... possibilities...

there was a time when everything fit
and i was simply a part of it
life's experiences I recall
loving it all

and star dust, we are... I really am still loving it all...

so where were we?... what was my point?... what was I trying to say?... maybe I need another joint...

I feel. I feel so much it hurts. I care. I care so much it hurts. I want. I want so much it hurts. Most of all I want to give I want to share. I can't get what I want because I am alone here.

I have six (or is that seven?... who's counting?) unanswered texts in my phone from people in this town. I fell asleep after dinner, before most arrived, so I did not respond yet and I do not want to risk disturbing them at this middle-of-the-night hour. I do not have anyone to call or text in the middle of the night. So I find my way back to a semi-comfortable position laying down... so I can write.

Jackson sent a text yesterday morning telling me to come say hi if i am at the fields... I was not at the fields. She can see the schedule and knows when I play if she wanted to say hi or even stay and watch my game. We used to watch each others games all the time after we stopped playing on the same teams when we lived together. We used to play on the same teams even before we lived together. She stopped sharing softball some time back after she fell in love. Probably my fault,at least in part. My competitive spirit increased her anxiety. I sort of stopped chasing after her this season. I suppose she misses the attention and support. Some time last week or so may have finally crossed the letting go line to the point where it actually happened (the letting go). Maybe she senses that as I did not send a smiley face back to the last time she sent one because I did not have my phone with me at the time at work. It was a busy week. So yes, I was at work and didn't see it, but when I did, I did not feel it. That urge to immediately respond in case her feelings might be hurt if I didn't or in case she really needed me and did not know how to say so. She sucks at asking anyone for help, always has. Hopefully she's fine. I may text her back tomorrow. Life goes on.

Helen texted yesterday to tell me that she made reservations for Thanksgiving at a local hotel buffet. The Rosen Center. $70 or more with tax and tip and parking and whatever, at least. Probably $10 in gas just getting there. Good food, mostly American and not my favorite, but good... fancy place. We've gone there more than a few times for Thanksgiving over the last 17 years. I may go with her this year. She's an independent person who enjoys going on vacations alone and doing things by herself. Admirable, in my mind. The unanswered text that came after I fell asleep was to let me know she was going to a "Festival of Trees" next Saturday afternoon. I may have softball, I'll have to check the schedule.

Jane's unanswered text is a response to my texting to ask 'how are you?' yesterday. She's good. Tired from being too busy. She's my most active friend, a runner and cyclist and very social and almost always dating or in a relationship. I love her, but too much dating for me to want to get in that mix with her, though she's one of the few friends who holds some qualities that are physically attractive to me. Over the years, more than ten now I think, I am likely better off and happier staying platonic with her.

A guy from my Sunday softball league stopped by at the fields today to let me know about a storm drain issue. I gave him my work email and told him to send me the video he took of it. He texted to see if I got it.

The Monday softball team manager texted to let me know the game is at 7:30 tomorrow, which is today now. Group text. Responses popped up throughout the night and started up again before 5:00 am.

The Tuesday softball team manager texted to let me know the game is at 8:30 Tuesday. He always told me that at the fields.

Google texted me to upgrade Gmail on the phone.

D... I don't know if I have a blog name for D. I think I do, but for now, D. D texted to invite me to see 'Love Never Dies' because I clicked 'interested' when I wen on Facebook over the weekend to check on an invitation Tinman told me about. I will go if it fits into the schedule. D is a friend from the game groups on meetup that I used to attend regularly for several years... from about 2006 through 2010 and less after that after Jackson moved in and I got more into softball, work, and doing things with her. D is one of the group who still gets together regularly to socialize beyond gaming from those game groups. She actually is the game group organizer now. Fun, intelligent, and a good heart.

I suppose I took the opportunity to introduce some people (or catch up) by reviewing my texts waiting for response. If it wasn't the middle of the night, I'd have just responded and probably not have babbled on here, but the thought process happened and was written down. That's how the brain and this writing life works, in case you haven't been reading or paying attention. Sharing everything, remember?

So with all that in the phone on a Sunday evening, why am I feeling so alone?

First, because I am alone. No one to talk to, no one to phone. Just like the first time I wrote those words in one of the first 'poems' I ever wrote in this life about a half a century ago. Then, there the awareness that none of the people I know in this life are the right best friend for me. No really close friend, no softball partner, no running or exercise partner, no hanging out anytime --- friend. No one I really feel like getting closer to or trusting unconditionally. Though Jane or D could possibly be roommates if they lived closer to where I work and wanted to be. Jane probably would. Unfortunately she lives almost an hour away and loves where she lives. I love where she lives too, but I work an hour away. Sometimes life is like that.

Naturally I have some hesitation trusting anyone unconditionally as I am healing from Jackson's lies and betrayal (and the many before her), but I still think I can try again. Just need the right candidate in the physical space.

Thank you for being here in words. I hope you too feel the good feeling of knowing I am here for you too. You help so much. Knowing I can write these words, sort out what is in my head, share the simple details of life and those in life here, assess what I want, lament what is missing, and continue to believe there are people who understand and who can actualize unconditional love because you and I do (proof it exists and can be done). Thank you.

I drifted away this week. I suppose I needed some alone time and that probably had something to do with letting go and readjusting to the aloneness that is this life. Giving up the illusion of having a best friend or family is never an easy thing to do. It is necessary though. There's a song that says it well... let's see if I can find it.


Of course it is more of a broken heart love song, but I can't think of a "lost my best friend' song and the words are close to the same so it works. "it's hard to find a new dream... with an old one in your eyes."

I can see clearly now... the rain is gone.

Ok, so that is not my song. The rain is never gone, thank goodness, for the flowers would die and there's be no rainbows if the rain was really gone. My song says something like...

Some people let memories fade away
But I hold on to my yesterday
Foundations I can build upon
The best lessons are never gone

The fullest peace and happiness
stays with me over the years
is as simple as it appears
I've learned to empower love over fears
so I can see rainbows through my tears

Or something like that :)

i miss my recliner... i laid prone propped up on pillows while i wrote the words above but the lower back finally said too much compression to i rolled on to my side and now type with one hand, one finger, actually, as i hold the little laptop up sideways with the other and... it makes for slow somewhat choppy typing which makes for much lower and somewhat choppier thinking... and a whole lotta typos... too man for amusement...

i fixed more than a dozen typos in the last paragraph and the stream of consciousness is gone...

there was so much more...

but i must stop sitting as much as i do...

and on a related point, i must also stop eating as much as i do...

but not writing... i must not stop writing... in fact, i must find a way to write more...

for now though, I thank you for being there..

Take care of you... I am here...

honest love,
ric

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Long Lost Life

Decades ago I fell in love for the third time. At least I think it was the third time. It depends on how I define being in love or falling, for that matter. In any case, it was the last time, at least so far. Decades can be such a long, long time in this life as we know it. And furthermore, there was a more distinct purpose to this introduction once, but time pass, a few days, and the original purpose may be gone, at least so far. A few days can be such a long, long time in this life as we know it. And repetition is not just a literary technique.

And starting sentences (or paragraphs, for that matter), with ad is not my usual style, but then, what's style got to do with it and yes, that is a reference to what's love got to do with it even if I am at a loss for the connective tissues of this thread of a thought that seems connected to love somehow. Love, or more specifically actively sharing love with the one soulmate person of y dreams, was once the most important imperative in this life as I've known it. Now, love is simply what I do alone. Beautiful feeling, still, and complete in it's own experience. And yet there is still a longing buried deep in my core.

I found my last love through the written word. It blew up, perhaps because I believed the written words and the physical reality was not as represented in the written words. I apparently gave up on that path and yet, again, I still love to write and communicate through written words so I once again stick some toes into the waters of correspondence by signing up as a member of a penpal website and in doing so, found myself writing to the last person I fell in love with and whether that is coincidence or foresight or predestined happenchance (or do I mean happenstance?), it is what it is and here it is now:


A least as we experience it, life is time. Shared time gives us the illusion that time exists more than solitary time. Mix the two, as most of us do in this life, and time seems to speed up and slow down depending on whether it is shared or solitary. I hope your time pleasures you and there are few regrets in your memories. Maybe we need another word for regrets, for there are regrets we create due to choices we make and then there are regrets that we feel because of choices others make I regret you do not stay in touch. Somehow that is an odd use of the word and yet, it makes sens on some level. It is a clean regret, as opposed to the regret I feel about leaving Toronto. I do not miss cold winters at all, so personal physical comfort does not regret leaving, while I loved the city and miss the family.

Anyway, I took a rare day off from work and while laundry spins, I sat down to pause in the cleaning I intend to continue today and here I am. I wish it felt more special, but writing into a void that only you have access to seems mostly futile and futile is anything but special, except maybe in SNL Church Lady terms (still finding myself laughing at absurdities and references, still hoping amusement overrides offense). Life is excellent on most levels, though a couple of areas (living space, intimacy, health, and positive input from others) could improve rather a lot if I was not so complacent and comfortable living as a refugee in what the middle class call squalor (laughing at the Procrastinators Unite Tomorrow T-Shirt waiting on the top of the next wash pile).

Blogging slowed dramatically in the last month or so as I worked a lot of hours (225 in one two week period) as my job is 24/7 during public emergencies and we did have that Hurricane pass through. Some areas are still flooded, debris clean up will take through November, and many here have it a whole lot worse than I do and many on islands have it much much worse than anyone in the US, but I was pointing out why the blogging paused more than wanting to discuss conditions or state of emergency orders or disaster work. This entry may be here, in large part, because I am reassessing the whole point and value of spending time writing words to no one - or to the ethers and posterity and the hope someone might someday find the words and understand and care enough to respond (leading to the possibilities of actual friends in life offline and more dreams coming true). No doubt I want to continue as the dreams are still as alive as ever. Is it odd that I stumbled into this writing space to way it? :)

I have one pen-fried left and she's been loyal and dedicated to almost instant responses (even when I disappear for years) since the turn of the century or so. Once upon a time I thought she might be you, but she does not have your writing style or penchant for long correspondence. She just appreciates every word more than anyone I've ever written to so I continue on and off all these years. This past year she has replaced Jackson as the person I babble on to and share most with in this world. The epitome of correspondence, I suppose, as we've never met in physical space and there's no hunger to on either side. Caring words are enough.

Words can't express just how important J has been throughout the years. Every time I found myself wondering if reaching out and trusting is worth it. she'd remind me of how much words can mean. Even when I stop believing in humanity, I find her words and that spark of hope that there are people who can be trusted revives.

This writing has turned into more of a catch-up introspective blog post than uniquely a message to you, but it's here and this blog continues because t is here. Life shared, however one sided, like a writer and a reader might. Is a writer a writer if there is never a reader?

I hope your time, shared and solitary, is smiling more than frowning. I hope, if you find your way into this blog, that the words are welcome. I hope you and all you love are and is well as well as you want and you are satisfied with your life and comfortable in your space and more happy than sad in your time.

honest love,
ric


Narf? :)

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Art Thou Letters?

It appears that clarity of purpose is not being sought in any earnest way for this blog as I believe letters to friends and letters to strangers and letters of introduction which once were are now, for the moment at least, all being dumped into this repository with some modicum of abandon, if not reckless. So, with little or not thought of where this belongs beyond ths paragraph that does not seem so seek a conclusion even as it comes to it's end, we present to you, for your edification and reading pleasure, this latest letter with little more explanation than this fanfare and a few minor modifications.

There are definite differences between the feel of the flow of the words at different times of the day and not just cuz it's morning or evening, but cuz it's wake up and sleepy and also the location and posture of different chairs, lighting, environment distractions, and more. But just the morning atmosphere/environment is different from the evening, like day and night sometimes - oh yeah, and then there is light and dark too lol :)

I may not have much dark for a while... I slept with the full room light on last night because I am hoping the full room light keeps the spiders away. This body reacts very poorly to spider bites and I do not want those annoyances and potential infections again.

No dark is probably not a good thing for me.

We shall see.

Back to your words now, a couple of letters behind sort of... just because I am aware of being a fool does not mean I will stop being one... I really love that :)

Yes, yes, yes - there is a difference between escaping and numbing. Escape is not necessarily reducing the experience, in fact, it can enhance the experience, while numbing is reducing the experience by reducing the sensory input and/or reducing the synaptic activity.

Such clarity, for me at least, is exciting.

I escape often, all the time in fact. I numb very rarely, if ever, though I wonder if that is accurate, conscious, or from a bigger picture that I do not see, a revelation awaiting discovery. Or a forgotten revelation awaiting re-discovery, even.

The challenge for me in this life is to continue riding my seemingly endless and irrepressible flow of positive hopeful energy while still experiencing the full load of depressive negative energy the human race exudes (emanates) almost all the time as a species and for the most part, as individuals. It is the reaction to fear. The choice to empower fear. That is what I mean.

I leave that thought incomplete, slightly disconnected, and without as much clarity as it could have at the moment deliberately to haunt and provoke because it should.

And the gloves are still on.

Hear that, humanity, the gloves are still on.

. . . . . Now, the last few paragraphs (especially from "because it should" but the challenge itself too) was inspired by thoughts you shared but is not a challenge to you - that distinction is important and I probably should make it more often.

I see you as a mind who understands me, or at least much of what I write - though I imagine there are times when you take my challenges to humanity are personalized as a challenge to you and I hope this helps you find more clarity in those moments. I think you, in your mind, reach for bigger pictures if only because you can and must - to see beyond your daily physical existence which is limited by your physical shell, your body, even more than most because of your experiences.

I imagine you can grasp more of the concepts that I present than most, more than anyone I know and am in contact with at this moment in this life, and in that sense you can see the challenges I throw out are challenges you might give to humanity as well.

I hope you understand what I mean.

The distinction between what might be viewed as harsh words, depressive words, angry words, or any sort of negative words are challenges to myself and to humanity to wise up, to wake up, to open senses and see beyond the fears and prejudices and limits of modern acceptable thought and find reason and clarity that exists and can free them from the chains of our limited minds.

I believe you venture farther along that path with me than anyone I know does.

I don't believe I reach any sort of end on this path, whether we call it enlightenment or nirvana or euphoria or complete and total awareness, consciousness, or "being." I mostly hope there is no end to this path and the expansion of understanding and learning and experiencing new experiences with bigger pictures and more acute perceptions is a never ending story - an ever expanding experience of being.

From my limited scope of knowledge and awareness and experience, I would imagine the god concept, the end of the growth of knowledge and awareness (omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence) would be a virtually stagnant and quite boring place and way to be.

When and if I ever get there, I dearly hope I am wrong (and I laugh at that thought either out of some giddy nervous fear or because I already know and awareness, even unacknowledged by consciousness in these words, is fun {shhhh, secrets, ya know? lol lam laa} and yay).

So anyway, get it? Any of it? Some of it? There's always hope (I hope) :)

Meanwhile, back to the point of escape and numbness before I bumble or stumble or grumble, even (words are just so much fun and no I don't want to rumble... I'm much too humble for that and the self-mockery concludes, for the moment, in almost endless laughter. . . )

I think escape's bad reputation comes from how some (most) escape (poisons and other destructive actions) in this world (or at least in human cultures) today and through history. Also from avoidance of responsibility many (most) choose, which sometimes comes due to escape (or vice verse and they are potential an example of mutual causality), but then, some escapes are very much fun and virtually harmless like playing with the latest Google toy when what we meant to do was search for something that would continue an activity, like writing a letter, for instance lol lam laa). Yes I had some fun with the toy, here is an article about it in case you ever want to be a DJ in the modern hip hop world of dance clubs and such.

Absolutely no to do we have to always be present and accounted for. I love to get lost. Love it even more when I get lost with someone who enjoys getting lost. Unfortunately, few people do. Those darned fears of the unknown, of being "out of control" of whatever. Sigh, I wish people would get over it already and learn to enjoy life.

I do believe escape is rich and fertile soil, in fact, escape is where creativity and invention live.

I am running out of time as softball is coming up soon and I must shower and dress and drive, so it is time to suddenly pause...

There is a butterfly somewhere out there that is smiling for you.

I asked her to. :)

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

What Is Love

Am I waxing poetic or making excuses? Am I philosophizing or trying to win someone over? Am I trying to find the truth or trying to be right? Tell me the truth, that is love. :)

This next writing is inspired by the 7 drivers of old habits of thinking (those are the words in bold below) that came from the website 7 drivers of old habits of thinking. The websites appears to be suggesting ways to stop negative thinking. This lead me to ponder if I have these habits (the words in italics below) and on a deeper level, whether I am a negative thinker or have a habit of negative thoughts. I'll leave the question of just what are negative thoughts for another long and winding ramble. Feel free to join me (or lead me) on that tangent another time. For now, I share a deeply satisfying smile that was inspired by what follows. A letter to the friend who sent me the 7 drivers of old habits of thinking (the words in bold below, each numbered 1-7, got it?) leading me to think whether I have any of those habits. Thank you for the inspiration. :)

I love you. I appreciate you. I really don't think you ever really got to know me. I think that's mostly because I held back because I was always afraid of scaring you away. Life is so much fun for me. People disappoint and I turn to you to understand my disappointment and sadness and I guess that is mostly what you see. Do you really think I do these things? I ask with a smile, so neither of us should be defensive :)

1. Living on “automatic pilot” (rather than with awareness and conscious choice). - From my perspective, I am too aware of almost everything and conscious of every choice I make. Every moment is a brand new moment and anything can happen. That perspective seems to scare everyone away. I used to dumb-down more than I do now and it's not satisfying beyond superficial momentary distraction from how lonely it is to have no one who really sees me and there is no one to come home to. I've always been the giver because I always had more to give and I love giving. I welcome someone who truly understands how wonderful it feels to live as I do. :)

2. Relating to experience through thought (rather than directly sensing). I feel how scared people are to share, to care, to be themselves. This is why I bloat up and get uncomfortable physically, joining in the reindeer games, so to speak - the human condition is self-destructive. That keeps most people apart and fighting - I finally gave in and joined the human party about fifteen years ago, maybe twenty. It hurts less feeling less.

3. Dwelling on and in the past and future (rather than being fully in the present moment). Do you really think I do this? I live more in the moment than anyone I know - but when there is nothing to do but rest (cuz a body needs rest) I babble (write) because my mind keeps wanting to play so I play with words when the body is tired.

4. Trying to avoid, escape, or get rid of unpleasant experience (rather than approach it with interest). If anything I stay in an unpleasant experience trying to make it better long after people tell me to give up and move on (I face myself and everything in words, hoping someone will come along and find the words - or just want to talk. Until someone does, I write, I work, I play ball (three nights a week and weekends), I go to dinner with friends, I play cards and games, I've been to six meetups in July, I'm exhausted lol.

5. Needing things to be different from how they are (rather than allowing them to be just as they already are). The only thing I really want different is to find someone who relates to me as I am. Everything else is my choice. I wish people would not be so disappointing, but I don't need that to be happy - the world does though (and I wonder if you understand why I laugh at that multi-layered thought) :)

6. Seeing thoughts as true and real (rather than as mental events that may or may not correspond to reality). Everything is relative and an illusion in the mind. We believe what we want to believe and choose to make it real by sharing it with someone else who chooses to believe the same thing, but it's just a mental construct that can change with a blink of an eye. It is so much deeper and multi-faceted than words can begin to express and so I laugh as I dream the impossible dream of putting it into words. Did you know one of my dreams was to write the song that saves the world? :)

7. Treating yourself harshly and unkindly (rather than taking care of yourself with kindness and compassion). Honest love is the kindest, gentlest, truest love there can be because it is the most real unconditional love - without limits or pretenses. It may seem harsh or even cruel to anyone who does not get it, but they is only because they are afraid to see the conscious awareness and acceptance of reality it brings.


I welcome a different perspective. I welcome someone who cares to analyze me and life and everything. I love it when someone presents a thought I did not think of before or even more, I love it when someone cares enough to take the time to prove me wrong. That has not happened in a very long time because no one comes close enough to really touch the reality I see and feel and experience. That's lonely, but that doesn't stop me from enjoying every moment of this life (even subdued as I am).

Listen to Dan Fogelberg's Part of the Plan one day. It is one of my core songs. When I say core songs, I mean words that come close to expressing my perspective or even who I am. The Who's I'm Free is another. Some are collected here: Heart, Mind, Song John Denver's Seasons Of The Heart (and some others by him) contains some core songs. Harry Chapin has many, Everybody's Lonely is one. It has been so long since I found anyone into the music I am into - so long since I found someone who wants to explore music or the things that matter to me most. Don McLean's Vincent can be so related to my experience in this life in some deep ways. On a slightly lighter and less intense note, this site is a collection of videos I put together that I call The Video Me. Someday I hope someone wants to listen and watch and appreciate me for it.

Longing for a soulmate is part of who I am. Melissa Etheridge's Melissa Etheridge pounds home some truths for me. Reality so sharp it cuts away the BS most of us call life. I live for love, it is what I do. I give everything I am, that is what makes me happier than anything else. When I have no partner, I adopt people and give and care and share and you experienced that - unconditional love and trusting a heart's good intentions. That is real, you know better than most that it is what I do. So maybe you look at the surface whining and complaining and sadness I put into words to you and forget the wonder of the child inside me who thrills at the chance to give to someone else and take care of someone else. Until someone comes along who does something similar for me, it is the best I can do to be who I am.

So sometimes I lament
for someone to love me
the way I love and give
unconditionally
And sometimes I am sad
when I face how alone
I am in this life
I survive on my own

And I am happy to be me
There's no way else I'd rather be
how many can say that and
make it reality?

I love the way I am
I live life fearlessly
and someone someone will understand
and fall in love with me

So sometimes people say
I should not live this way
I should protect myself more
I should lock my door
but that's not what I'm here for
I am here to share
it is the best feeling I know
to give and show I care

And I am happy to be me
There's no way else I'd rather be
how many can say that and
make it reality?

I love the way I am
I live life fearlessly
and someday someone will understand
and fall in love with me

It is a simple song. I am a simple man. Someday when love conquers fear, we all will understand,

I have nothing to prove. I have nothing to lose. Giving everything for love is just the way I choose.

That's what makes me happy. That's how I want to be. Someday we all will understand and live in love like me.

La la la la :)

I watch everyone rushing through their lives missing so many opportunities to be kind and generous and experience the gift of giving, sharing, caring - doing it. I hear everyone say it in passing, the acceptable words how are you? and wanting nothing more than I'm fine because, after all, who has time to really listen to someone's story anymore?. The sincerity behind have a nice day is often so shallow, words with no thought behind them other than see ya or more honestly, Hi, Bye, Don't have time for more... it's not that I don't care, I just don't have time to actually do it.

That is the reality most people avoid. Caring is a verb, it is something to do, not just something to say. Doing it makes it real. Yet how many people actually do it anymore? Perhaps one on one or in very small circles, relationships and families, but even there I see so much superficiality and pretense. The words are just so much easier than the actions.

I understand. People are struggling to pay bills, to keep their head above the water. Trusting is scary. Sharing is scary. I think most people have forgotten how to do it in reality. Caring is scary. I know it's how I live, it's who I am. But love feels better than fear. Love is realer. Fear is what might happen. I can't control what might happen. I can control what I do, so I love. Love is what can happen. Love is what does happen when I love.

Someday it will not push someone away and that someone will be the one I've been hoping to find this entire life. Until then, I love every minute of the experience from the empty depths of loneliness to the limitless heights of imagination, from the agony of insensitivity, betrayal, and cruelty to the magical bliss of kindness and generosity and caring sharing. It is no accident that Billy Joel's Honesty is the longest running first and last song on my life's playlist.

It is the song I sing to the world. It is the song I sing to every person. It is the song I sing to the one I hope to find someday, soulmate. Elton John's The One and Believe In Love are close to the center of my core, of who I really am. But Honesty... is all I really need... from anyone.

Honesty is love.

It takes unconditional love and trust to be completely honest. And isn't that phrase, completely honest, the sad truth - that we are not always completely honest. Seems like an oxymoron, I mean, how can honesty be less than honest?

Yet isn't that the way of the world. From the things we do not say in relationships to pandering of Madison Avenue to the politicians and leaders of countries, honesty is so seldom heard. We tell ourselves it's kinder not to say the whole truth. And the lies spiral out and corrupt our lives until we don't know what is real anymore. That's why most relationships do not last. Honestly.

So am I negative, or am I simply facing reality and not avoiding truth? It is a matter of perspective, a choice to believe what we want to believe - a mental construct - an illusion. We may choose to have different opinions of me, but who is to say what is true?

We believe what we want to believe. I choose to believe in you, in your heart. I see your beautiful intentions. I feel your pain, I feel your fear, I feel your confusion, I feel your intention to love. That is you.

So who am I? Do you feel safe? Do you feel the honest love, the unconditional caring? Do you feel something else?

I know, finding the words can be a challenge. It is a commitment to find the words to express thoughts and feelings. It is a commitment to self, to express self. What if it is not right? What if it does not please? What if it upsets someone? It is easier to let someone else speak and nod our heads. That is what most people do. Accepting that reality, I can still reach for more - for what is missed, the personal, the meaning, the commitment, the truth that is who one is. It's just a feeling, but it is everything. Within the philosophical ramblings may be wisdom, but it is easier to be a fool (I am happy being both). :)

I hope you keep sending me the good advice and therapeutic thoughts. :)

I appreciate your inspiration - may all these words mean something to you - they definitely mean a lot to me because they express much of who I am.

Sweet dreams,

hl,
ric


So did we learn something about me (or anything) after all that? :)

My experience in this life may seem sad to you, I mean, I know few people who know the experience of no family in this world where people take family for granted and assume everybody has some, but I do not know any other experience so it is only sad to me when others tell me it's sad. It is all I know and I am happy being me enjoying experiencing each moment with my senses (I suppose few people know that experience, unless they are infants lol lam, if only I could meet another independent infant like me, aye? lol lam).

Expressing my experience, sad as it may be to you, helps me accept reality and acceptance leads t clarity and clarity leads to euphoria and who doesn't want some euphoria, right? :)

Someday you all will understand :)

Narf :)

Saturday, July 15, 2017

PS

More...


Oh my, how dramatical of me. Note the odd adverbal emphasis of the adjective objective coalescing into a sentence that would make some people's skin crawl, as if that metaphoric simile is even possible. I may have even mislabeled some of the literary turns of phrases in this mockery of language and self, but that is the fun of writing, always trying something new to get a point across... even if no one really understands it beyond the voices in my head.

I leave that for posterity (and you), to ponder.

I woke feeling shitty and after drinking 20 ounces of water and about the same of gatorade and leaving a really large poo soft in the poo repository (fecal material in soft-serve ice cream texture rising above the water line, if you really must know - as some do or we all poo, after all - and just think how my own body blog has been neglected even more than this body I loosely call mine has, really mucking it up now, aren't we? {speaking for the voices in my head, which get a rare second reference within the same writing session as if they really exist outside of a contextual form... only my inner hair dresser knows for sure, ya know?) and a cleansing shower and a cooling down, I feel much better now.

It is time to make the softball, however, so this writing mood must wait (with the same hope, naturally.

Cuz there is always hope (I hope) :)

Lest we forget.

So don't forget, m'ok? )

honest love,
me :)


Everything's better with hope :)

Sensing a Divergence

This belongs in letters to the night, however live journal shut that down, so it is here for now. If I return I may find or create another blog for this, but time is not available until later (hoping there is a later, of course, for who can predict the future). I will not even read for typos, just as is for now.

It was written to...

Ok, disorganized thoughts reflected in disorganized and intermittent writing likely stemming from a relatively disorganized and disconnected life at the moment.

Anyway, I woke with a muscle cramp in my upper right calf this morning. Anxiety? Stress? Fatigue? Medication Side effects? Dehydration? Electrolyte imbalance? Overheating? Another disease? The soft air mhattress that has me sleeping with my lower body slightly more elevated than my upper body and head? Cronic Kidney Disease? Congestive Heart Failure? Chronic Fatigue Syndrome? Multiple Sclerosis? Muscular Dystrophy? Simply Aging? Lack of exercise? Weight gain? Overeating Taco Bell and Bar food? Something in the supplements I consume? (Chromium, Vitamin B/C Complex, Multivitamin, Cinnamon, Apple Cider Vinegar, ?). Something else? A combination of these and possibly other factors?

I am not hypocondriacted, just an inquiring mind.

Some years ago I felt similar symptoms and attributed them to the side effects of the medication and I stopped the medication for a while, ignored my elevated blood pressure, and the cramping and heat exhaustion symptoms went away (as did the dry cough and fatigue), but was it that simple?

In any case, I prepare to head out to play a double header in the heat again. 1:00 pm and 2:00 pm games on the oven-baked fields with no shade or cooling factors. Some might call me foolish (or a lot worse), but I've done it for years (whole day tournaments and whole week tournaments in this sort of heat as well just over the last two summers and I did notice aging but I did fine and felt great).

Today is a test.

I hope to return here and not end up in the hospital again.

Or worse.

I hope these are not my last words.

At least there is still hope :)

There's always hope (I hope) :)

honest love,
me :)