Stillness, Focus, and Study.... Looking Inward

Today has been a very introspective day... It is overcast and sort of glum, but beautiful in a stark, end of wintery sort of way...

Elysia's mom is up visiting some friends, and we decided to go out for brunch together. When we arrived at our usual brunch place, we were surprised to find out that it no longer existed... it had changed ownership, and no longer offered Sunday brunch.. sort of an end to an era, I guess you would say... we had been going to this place for brunch on special occasions for about seventeen or eighteen years, now. But, in the way that these things seem to work, one of the workers in the new place suggested another place, not too far down the road, and off we went in search of it.

We found the place with no problem, and hit it off at once with the staff, and with the other guests... we were all wisecracking and laughing our asses off as we enjoyed our brunch.

I was somewhat less expressive today, not because I am down or sad... I'm not.. I am just sort of still today. I think that what all this really means, by which I mean my recent step towards a more spiritual focus in my life, may be sinking in. I have a great deal of work ahead of me... and a tremendous amount to learn. I am excited about it, and looking forward to it, but, I think that I have entered the calm before the storm at this point, and I am taking account of my inner resources and preparing both my mind and my spirit for what is to come.

In a little while, I will be heading out to work, and I wont be getting in until late tonight... so for me, at least, my weekend is more or less over with right about now... That sucks, but, in order to enjoy another weekend, I have to get through another week!

Slán go fóill

Bear

Acceptance.. A Journey Begins...

Yesterday I came home from work to a pleasant surprise. I received an acceptance letter from the religious order that I had applied to for membership.

I had begun to think that for some reason, the investigative process of the membership application had found me unsuitable. But, as it turns out, I was welcomed into the order.

I am including portions of the Acceptance Letter here, although I have deleted some parts, changed others, and censored or modified still others. My purpose in this is to leave the specific religiosity out of the picture entirely. I feel that this is best for a number of reasons. As I am sure that someone will send me an email asking me whether I am ashamed in some way of my particular religious beliefs, I will assure you now that I am not. I simply feel that in the context of this blog, it is not so important a part of what I am trying to convey that I feel that it is absolutely necessary to include it here. I do feel, however, that by deliberately not including, or alluding to my particular religious path, I avoid alienating readers who may follow a different path than the one that I follow. In this way, they can share my experiences within the framework of their own beliefs without feeling as though I am trying to preach to them, convert them, otherwise proselytize them, or in any way challenge their beliefs. As far as I am concerned, the important thing that I want to convey is the transformative process of undergoing a spiritual pathway... particularly a pathway that leads to one being ordained as a member of the clergy, such as this one. This will be a long pathway... encompassing years... before this happens, and I have a great deal to learn. I am very happy to have been accepted, and I feel that this is something positive and represents a new beginning in my life.

(and for those of you who are thinking that I have joined some strange cult that involves me giving away my personal possessions and the like.. it is not. And, if it were.. it wouldn't take long as I don't have much in the way of personal possessions to begin with!)

Here are the excerpts from my acceptance letter..



March 16, 2006
[City Where Headquarters of Unspecified Religious Order is located]

"We, the Triune Council, have reviewed your application for membership in the [Unspecified Religious Order]. We have read and evaluated your essays. You have demonstrated knowledge indicating you have read all documentation we have sent to you.

Based on your application, your essays, and your questionnaire, we are pleased to welcome you into the ranks of the [Unspecified Religious Order].

This is only the first step on a path that should, ultimately, become a way of life. We will work with you in any way necessary to help you as much as we can to achieve this goal. With any brotherhood, the person must fit the group and the group must fit the person. We hope that you will find all that you are looking for with us.

Once you have participated in the investigator's program you will be enrolled in the [deleted] course by one of our mentors. You'll be able to begin your lessons almost immediately.

From this moment on, you have the right to call yourself a [Title deleted] in the Order of [also deleted], although your actual rank in our Order is that of [Deleted](Beginning Student). How far and how fast you progress is up to you.

Your mentor is your primary teacher in all the [Unspecified Religious Order] has to offer. How much you utilize them is up to you. They will give assignments and will grade tests, and they will answer questions and read assignments. Do not be afraid to “bother” your mentor, which is what they are there to do.

Congratulations and Welcome!

The Triune Council"



Now the hard work begins! I am looking forward to getting started, and have no doubt that I will successfully complete all of the coming trials and tests. I am in good hands.

I have taken a step here, folks... and as of this moment, I am somewhat different than I was before. Although I live and work exist in this world, from here on out I will live and work and exist equally in the world of the spirit as well.

So. The decisions have been made. The first step has been taken. And now my journey begins.

It may seem odd to some that a person who spent much of his life as a soldier, learning to take the lives of others in various ways and practicing this craft with motivation and with vigour would turn to such a pathway, but, from what I have come to learn over the past few years, it is not actually so uncommon. I am just another person on the journey from warrior to priest.

I will let you know how this changes and affects me along the way.

"Get Rid of Her"

When I was about fourteen years old, I began dating a girl named Leslie.

Now, Leslie was a nice girl, but, as it turned out, she was looking for something permanent, and I was just interested in being a kid. When she began to talk about "when we are married..", it sort of freaked me out a little bit (..and me just wanting to ride my bicycle, sneak in to the movies, and go to gung fu class! Married?! Me?! What the FUCK is that all about?!! I'm friggin' FOURTEEN!!).

I was a bit of a late bloomer as it was, but this was just too much for my brain to deal with. I wanted to break it off and be done with the whole thing, but had no clue about how these things were done. Being me, I did what, over the years, has become a sort of a hallmark pattern of behaviour for me; I went to the library to see if there were any books on the subject. There was, in fact, a book on relationships which was directed at teenagers!! Perfect!! This was precisely what I needed!! I took the book out and hurried home with it where I proceeded to memorize the paragraph on breaking off a relationship. It said something about getting the other person alone, not doing it over the telephone (which, at the time, to be honest, sounded like a terrific idea...), explaining that it wasn't working out, and that it would be better to see other people, blah-blah-blah... it seemed to make sense, and I thought it would work swimmingly! To my mind, at least at the age that I was at the time, it seemed infallible. How could you find fault with the logic?? It was written by an author for Pete's sake.. how could there be anything wrong with something that was in print?!?!? Right? [Snort!]

I diligently memorized the whole damned thing, word for word, and practiced it in front of the mirror, until I had all of the gestures and inflections exactly right (or at least right as far as I was concerned... (( by the way, if you haven't figured out just how unprepared I was emotionally for any sort of romantic relationship simply by reading these last two paragraphs... go back and read them again! )), and then I screwed up my courage to meet with Leslie and let her know that it was time to move on...

The next time I saw Leslie, I avoided the kiss that she attempted to plant on me when we first met, and explained that I had to talk to her about something.. her reaction sort of caught me off-guard (in retrospect, I wonder if she thought I was going to propose!). I walked with her to a spot where we could have some privacy, and I began to recite my perfectly memorized paragraph on breaking up. I went through the whole schmiel, ending with, "So.. I've made up my mind, and it is time for us both to move on and close this chapter".

I waited for her to explode and begin hitting me or yelling or crying, but that isn't what she did. What she did do was completely unexpected, and caught me utterly off-guard; She simply said "No".

Bear: "Excuse me?"

Leslie: "No."

Bear: "Ahh... No, what, exactly??" (Completely baffled...)



Leslie: "We aren't breaking up."

Bear: (Blank mind... no thoughts... circuits are overloading..) (In a strangled voice -) "We aren't?"

Leslie: "No."

Bear: (Seconds of confused silence (I was completely unprepared for this reaction!... then;) "But.. I just broke up with you.." (Isn't it nice of me to helpfully point this out to her, as though she was ever so slightly mentally addled??)

Leslie: "No. You didn't. You can't break up with me. We'll never break up. You are going to stay with me forever!"

("Come and play with us, Danny... for ever.... and ever.... and ever... and ever!")



Bear: "Um. No! We are broken up, Leslie! I'm not going out with you any more. I want to be a kid! I don't want to get married. I don't want to go steady. I'm only fourteen!"



Leslie: "No."

Bear: (Beginning to think that four out of the five voices in her head may be planning my demise....) "Um... I gotta go..."

Leslie: "Can I have a kiss goodnight?"

Bear: (Dumbfounded) "Did you hear anything that I just said to you??!"

Leslie: "No! Kiss me!"



Bear: (Talk about an ice-water enema!) "..." (Turn on heel... walk away... very fast... holy shit!)

Leslie: (Creepily cheery bright shiny voice...) "I love you!"

Bear: (fuck!)

So... needless to say, this didn't really work the way I had run it through my mind... I avoided Leslie like the plague, particularly after she began to cry hysterically in the hallway in school in front of about 300 people, which made me feel like utter shit, and a complete lowlife, and which also assured me that my decision to break up with her was a well-thought one.

She left me notes. Well... she plastered every surface that I frequented, or was likely to frequent with notes, actually... she left me presents... she called continuously... even after my mom asked her to stop, told her to stop, demanded to stop, freaked out on her and threatened to cut her still beating heart from her chest and eat it in front of her... (okay... I'm lying about that last part... but, my mom did ask her to stop calling after 10:00PM. My mom liked Leslie quite a bit, and I secretly thing that she thought I was a bit of a shit for breaking up with her... they were both insane, and as fellow sufferers of severe mental illness, were able to communicate telepathically and conspire against me... I have no proof of this... but I know they were on the same side.)



So, after months (months!) of this. Months of me avoiding Leslie, or running in to her and feeling incredibly awkward... school finally ended, and the summer began.. blessedly. Leslie quit hanging out in front of my door (She would get up extra early and stand in front of my door so that she would be there when I came out to go to school!), it was all finally done with... or at least it appeared so. As the weeks of early summer wore on, I saw and heard less and less of Leslie.

My mom was at work one day, and my younger brother (I have two.. this one is five years my junior - he was about nine years old at the time - the other one was about a year old, and my mom dropped him at a babysitter on the way to work) and I were home alone. At the time, we were living in a garden apartment, on the upper floor, which was located on a semi-main road. Since it was summertime, and hot, we had the sliding glass door to the balcony open to allow a breeze to cool the apartment down. It was my habit to sit out there and read, or just watch the world go by. I was just about to step out on to the balcony when I saw Leslie peddling like mad on her bicycle, and obviously heading towards my house!!

"ShitFuckBastardCrapBollocksFuckShitFuckFuckFuck!!"

My brother just happened to be sitting right there in one of the arm chairs that was near the sliding glass doors at the time, and I said to him, "Get rid of her and I'll do your chores for a week!"

Brother: "Two weeks!"

Bear: "Deal!"

He shot out of the chair, graceful as a comet, and in a low blur, moving like a gazelle, headed towards the back of the house, where our room was located.

(What the F....?!)

I headed back there to tell him that he would actually have to answer the door.. but as I reached the door to our room, he was headed back up front, and moving fast! Good enough for me!

I was just closing our bedroom door, when I happened to glance at him and noticed the wrist rocket sling dangling from his hand... !!!



Bear Thought: "I wonder what he's going to do with ..... OH SHIT!!"

I bolted down the hallway, through the dining room, and rounded the corner just in time to see him let go with the slingshot... I heard the low 'thunk' of the surgical tubing as it snapped back to its original length, and reached the spot where my brother stood. At this point, I was just about on the verge of a stroke!

... just in time to see Leslie's head snap back, her feet fly up, and to watch her, as though in slow motion, topple off the back of her bicycle, which was moving at perhaps 20 miles per hour... her wooden soled Dr. Scholl's clogs (hers had the white leather uppers) flew in a low arc through the air, and landed on the street beside her scant milliseconds after she hit.. rolling and bouncing along the asphalt. The bicycle, now riderless, continued on for a few yards, before swerving, jumping the curb, and crashing into a fence, where it fell and lay on the ground... wheels slowly spinning...



Bear: (Wide eyed, and able to hear my blood pounding in my ears... absolutely incredulous at what I had just witnessed... though I have to admit it was a singularly perfect shot.. he caught her smack between the eyes... with a small lead fisherman's clincher weight. -- It can't feel that good to get nailed in the cruller with a lead sinker, though... and that was one hell of a fall!!)



"HOLY SHIT!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO??!! ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!!! WHY'D YOU DO THAT!?!?"



Brother: "You said if I got rid of her, you would do my chores for...."



BEAR: "ASSHOLE!!! I DIDN'T MEAN THAT YOU SHOULD KILL HER!!! OH, FUCK!..."

Utterly panic-stricken by now, I blasted out the door, down the stairs, out the front door and down the street at a run... I ran to the spot where Leslie was lying in the road, and asked her whether or not she had been killed.

Leslie was crying, and had the beginnings of what I knew would be one hell of a mouse on her forehead. She had road-pizza all over her arms, legs, back, face, head, chest... shit, she was scraped to all hell.. bits of road were embedded in her skin. She had a fat lip from bashing her mouth on something as she fell, and her nose was bleeding. One of her toenails had caught on something, and was sort of hanging off... she was an absolute mess.

I thought I had felt like shit before... Now I REALLY felt like a jackass.

I helped her to her feet, collected her sandals, and took her by the only undamaged part of her arm...

"C'mon inside, Leslie, we'll get you cleaned up..."

Through her tears, she nodded, and limped alongside of me as I guided her into the apartment where I cleaned and dressed her injuries as best as I was able.

When we first entered the apartment, I was just guiding her to a kitchen chair, when my brother rounded the corner, and with the most innocent look on his nine-year-old face, in a tone of utter and complete surprise and concern, said, "Oh! Leslie! What happened??! Are you alright?!!"

I was so taken aback by this hitherto unparalelled level of deceit that I simply gaped at him for a few seconds, with my mouth hanging open... I could not believe what I was hearing from his mouth!! He had just shot her in the head!, and now here he stood expressing his undying concern for her welfare... the duplicitous, wicked wee bastard!!

After we got poor Leslie cleaned up and bandaged, I went outside to retrieve her bicycle. The rim of her front tire was badly bent, and the chain was broken. That bicycle wasn't going anywhere unless it was pushed or loaded onto a vehicle. So it looked like I was spending the day with Leslie. Great plan so far... oh, man.

I called my mom at work to let her know what had happened. (I left out the part about the slingshot. Leslie was under the impression that a passing bus had kicked up a pebble that subsequently struck her in the head, and neither my brother or myself were overly inclined to disabuse her of this belief.. so we more or less just left it at that...). My mom asked to speak to Leslie, who began crying again once she heard an adult's voice on the telephone. My mom understandably felt terrible about what had happened, and invited Leslie to stay for dinner, offering to take her home afterwards. Leslie called her folks, told them what had happened, and explained that she would be staying at my house for the entire day, and then for dinner.

My brother, at this point, pulled me aside and enquired whether I planned on doing any of his chores for his valiant attempt at getting rid of her... at which time I began describing the various tortures that I was conjuring up for him.. and he wisely decided to hightail it out of the house... leaving me completely alone with Leslie.

Sigh. Welcome to Bear's world.

The day pretty much went exactly the way one would think it would go under the circumstances... it utterly sucked for me.

My mom came home, cooked dinner, and for some unfathomable reason, insisted on referring to Leslie and I as "You two lovers". I was secretly planning to do her in at that point... though I never actually acted on any of my plans.

To cap off the day, during dinner, my mom made some quip about me marrying Leslie one day and living happily ever after. This went straight up my ass, as I just knew it was going to completely revive this whole friggin' issue... and I made a smart assed comment back at her. (My mom didn't put up with this type of shit from us, being Scottish, and stern, and authoritative by nature...) She suggested that I recant my statement and treat her with the appropriate level of respect. My countermove was to offer a helpful suggestion to her that she mind her damned business regarding my love-life, or lack thereof, my marital status, who I was seeing, who I no longer wished to see.... and pretty much everything about me that didn't involve my school work or cleaning my room... her calm response was to plant a plate of Beef Stroganoff in my face.



In front of Leslie. Nice!

And so, not for the first time in my life... and certainly not for the last... I heard the resounding 'click' as the wheels of cosmic justice turned another notch and resolved the imbalance of injustice in somebody else's favor...



...obviously, it began to dawn upon me, there are probably better ways of handling these sorts of situations!

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

I just want to clearly and concisely reiterate my feelings about those who are closest to me reading this blog, and then it will be over, and I shant bring it up again unless some unruly individual should happen to shove such an untenable situation under my nose that I cannot avoid it. So here it is;

This is my one small place in all of the world where I can be completely and unequivocally free. This is the only place where I can caper about naked, painted up in woad, and bark at the moon with a tartan ribbon tied around my wilson - if I should so desire. (I would have said that this is where I let my hair down.. but, I don't have much hair, and what I do happen to have doesn't even get wet, never mind let down...)

Basically, this is my place, my spot, my sanctuary. I write here mostly for my own purposes. I welcome the readers who visit my blog, but I am able to maintain a certain comfort level with them chiefly because of the degree of separation between us that is brought about by our mutual anonymity.

To put it plainly, the closer you are to me in real-life, excluding my wife, the less comfortable I am with you reading this blog. People who know me, but only peripherally, I am more comfortable with than I would be with close friends and family. Why? I have no clearly definable idea. I just am. It would completely skeeve me out to know that my mom, my son, or one of my brothers was reading this blog... it isn't intended for them, it isn't directed at them, and, frankly, it isn't any of their business. I wouldn't want to read any of their personal shit, and I wouldn't be comfortable with them reading any of mine; this blog included.

If you are adamant and decide to go ahead and read what I write here regardless of my feelings or wishes... that's fine. I can't stop you, and I wouldn't try. But you should understand that sooner or later I am likely to drop a bomb on you in some way, shape, fashion, or form. Like I said... this is where I can drop all pretense, more or less shed any social inhibitions that I may have (which are few already...), and go just about anywhere my mind decides to take me. If It should come to my attention that you not only continued to read my blog when you know that I am somewhat uncomfortable with it and you then clued others in to its existence, then you are a back-biting, shit-eating lowlife and I will most definitely be writing some things here about you personally... with pictures... and signed affidavits from numerous independent witnessess... and anything else that I can come up with to be as embarassing and as socially unacceptable to you as I can possibly be in order to drive home my point. Respect my privacy, please. I respect yours and everbody elses, and if you know me, you know this to be the truth.

If you want to stick around for that eventuality (that of me eventually writing about something that will make you uncomfortable, or otherwise freak you out), be my guest! It won't bother me, and it certainly won't hurt my feelings, insult me, offend my sensibilities, or otherwise shock or scandalize me... you see, I already know what goes on in the darkest dungeons of my heart and mind. I am also intimately familiar with the most twisted reaches of my darkly sick sense of humour. If you get stung while holding a scorpion - don't blame the scorpion. It is in the nature of the scorpion to sting... after all.

As far as what ever has already taken place, and whoever you are, whether I know you were here or not (rest assured, I have set out traps and snares here from day one, so I most likely know that you have been here if you have... though I admit that it may be possible that you slipped through my numerous nets...) I want you to know that I am not angry, and I hope that there are no hard feelings on your part(s). There are certainly none on my part. Since this is the place where I air my feelings without much in the way of censorship or filtering, however, whatever feelings I happen to have get put down as posts here pretty much the way I feel them, as opposed to how I may control or channel those feelings in person to person relationships. I may keep things under wrap in real life, but I don't do that here. Free expression is the main purpose of this place. So, if I seem harsher than usual, or overly emotional, or otherwise weird.. this is my blog! I unload my thoughts and feelings here exactly as I feel them.. or as close to that as I am capable of conveying them in this format.

Regarding my blog, I feel that the overall 'flow' has been slightly disturbed by the whole 'outing' process, but I now return control of this blog to me. It's mine. Do not attempt to adjust your monitor.

From here on out, this is a dead issue, as far as I'm concerned... we will now return to the usual rambling, aimless, somewhat vague and vapid drivel that we have all become accustomed to. Thank you for playing. Goodnight!

Outed!

I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.. We have been outed! A close friend stumbled across Marcheline's profile somewhere, and linked to her blog from there... and from her blog, to mine. This isn't anywhere near the same thing as being 'Dooced', but, 'outed' it is! Marcheline, who is Elysia, was extremely upset about it... I was knocked off my keel a bit, but, honestly, I sort of figured that this was one of the risks that one takes when putting something 'out there' where anybody find it... I just didn't actually think that it would ever really happen...

Somebody else found my blog previously, but it didn't strike me quite the same way. I'm not exactly sure why I make this distinction in my mind, though, as both are friends and personally known to me. It would seem that if one would make me feel uncomfortable, then they both would.. but, that's not how it worked out for some odd reason.

In this recent instance, the individual involved is actually more like family, though. In fact, he is, for all intents and purposes, family.

This may be why it feels sort of weird, I guess...

It is my guess that how this affects one depends entirely on how you define your own blog, and in what function your blog serves in your life.

To my wife, the blog is mostly (this is only my take... I can only speak of what I see and what I perceive... we haven't really discussed this at length... usual disclaimer applies...) a place where she can let down her hair, express thoughts and feelings that she may or may not feel comfortable expressing in front of folks that she knows personally, or where she can comment or rant or ruminate over any and every topic that may breeze into her mind... so, the act of having been discovered, outed, what-have-you has a great deal of significance for her, because, the blog serves as a sort of diary/personal journal/sounding board. Consequently, the thought of somebody reading it (who knows her in person) without her express permission, is extremely upsetting to her, and thus, by extension, to me.

I live with her, have lived with her for years, and share her most intimate thoughts, and that notwithstanding, did not read her blog until she invited me to do so... I am making this clear just to illustrate the degree to which her blog is private insofar as it relates to people who know her on a personal basis.



When I initially started out with this blog, It was decidedly not something that I would have wanted people who know me personally to read, or to know of, or to even be aware of. This explains why I have never brought the blog up as a topic of discussion to anyone who knows me other than my wife. It was sort of my own private place, where I could air my thoughts, and where I could write whatever I so desired without any thought to how it would affect those who are close to me, or how they may view me.

While I still would prefer that I had retained complete and total anonymity, it is quite evident that this is no longer possible, so I must decide what to do from this point onwards. A number of possible scenarios have been playing through my mind, such as ending the blog, shutting it down, deleting the posts, and having done with it; but, I enjoy the process of blogging, I enjoy my blog, and I enjoy the way that I perceive things through my 'writer's' eye..... I thought of simply starting a new blog, but, this one has sort of developed a life of its own, and it would seem odd to me to just abandon it over this. I thought of censoring what I had written, removing anything that would be embarassing to me, or to anyone else, and filtering my writing style and subject matter. But, to emasculate my writing would invalidate the entire point of a blog. So. I have decided to do none of these things. What I am going to do is simply continue on, and to let those of you who may know me that what you read here is not generally intended for the consumption of those persons who know me personally. It is my own private space, and what I write is basically for my own purposes, with the added benefit of providing some small entertainment level or food for thought, perhaps, to those persons who have never met me, and who are not likely to ever meet me outside of this forum. At least not cognizantly.

This may sound similar to the function that my wife's blog serves, to her (or, more accurately, it may sound similar to how I have described my perception of what function my wife's blog serves for her). It is similar to some respect, but not exactly the same thing. To me, the blog serves a slightly different function. It is in part a sounding board for my thoughts and feelings... in part a showcase of thoughts - where I can gather my memories, my thoughts, my opinions, what have you... and present them in a slightly polished fashion... This serves as a way of condensing my thoughts, and helps me to articulate them, and, subsequently, by posting them and then reading them over, I then have a visual impression that is in some cases, even clearer than the actual memory.. this sounds strange, but, there it is. I'm strange, what can I tell you?

My blog is also, for me, a place where I can work out problems.

By being forced to articulate my thoughts to the degree that I can put them down on paper (on electrons?) I am forced to think clearly and concisely... I am forced to organize my thoughts, and to be able to present them in a (marginally) logical fashion. This helps me to work through things that may otherwise be muddled in my head...

It is a journal or diary of sorts, and it is a vehicle that I use as a repository for private thoughts and feelings at times... so, as far as that is concerned, I do feel somewhat intruded upon, or uncomfortable, or weird. That being said, I must also point out that if you are going to put your shit on the internet, you can't be freaked out that other people (some of whom may know you!) may come across it. That's the way it works, and you can't run with the big dogs if you can't pee in the tall grass!

So. While I would have preferred to have had this blog remain private, naturally... I also feel that one must roll with the punches, and adapt to the situation on the fly. You work with the hand that you are dealt, and move on. In the event that anyone may be harboring such thoughts as, "What is so secret that you have to keep it from your friends and family?", I reply, "You do it every day.. in one fashion or another... as does every other human being. These are my thoughts that have been given form in the shape of letters, words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs. If I had wanted to share them with someone that I know personally, I would have done so in my own time, or not... as is my right."

It would appear that at least two people who I know personally have read or are reading my blog. One part of me feels slightly weird about it, and one part of me says, "Fuck it!". I am basically a very direct person, and I say more or less whatever happens to come to my mind. I am not ashamed by my feelings, my thoughts, my weaknesses, my sexuality, or, honestly, in very much else. So. If you want to read my blog, knock yourself out! That's what I write it for. As it turns out, there isn't anything in this blog that is particularly controversial, or overly private, save for discussions of intimate thoughts or times with my wife. I find that I feel mostly protective of the potentiality that this blog afforded me in the event that such a situation should ever arise that I should want a forum in which I could share my thoughts, and perhaps ask for feedback from people who are, outside of this medium, strangers to me.. though some of them are undoubtedly friends to me now... I still am not likely to sit across from a table with any of them.. and it is this distance that makes such open communication possible between us.

That having been said, I must also say this; I use this blog as a place for me to puke out my thoughts, sort through them, play with them, tease them out, and put them into some semblance of order. Many of those thoughts are rough-edged, raw, undeveloped, and outright blatant! My first thought upon having been outted was that I wouldn't be able to write with complete honesty and integrity any longer, because somebody might read what I write! (the inference here being that the 'somebody' is a somebody who knows me personally).

Then, after letting it turn over in my mind, I decided that that was not a valid thought. In fact, I will continue to write here, just as I always have. I will write my thoughts as they come, and I will sort them out and put them down here. Some of those thoughts may entertain, others may provoke, still others may shock you. I want this blog to remain what it is and to continue to serve the purpose for which I first began blogging.

I may say things that you agree with, and I may say things that offend you. By reading what I am writing here, you are sharing an intimacy with me that you otherwise would most likely never have shared. So. Be prepared to read or learn any class of thing at all about me, my thoughts, my preferences, my opinions, or my actions, activities, proclivities, or anything else regarding me. Some of these things may make you feel as though you have come to know me better, while others may paint me as a complete alien to you. Whichever way it goes, if I think it, and I want to express it, I will most likely do so here...

If you happen to step on my toes in real life, or otherwise piss me off, I may very well speak my mind here. You may not like what I say. If you happen to touch my heart, I may speak of it here, and it may be embarassing to you. So far this has never happened. I don't expect that it should.. but, this blog being what it is, I just want to cover that eventuality.

What I'm saying is that this blog is basically a written record of my most private thoughts and feelings. If you want to read them, and you think that you will be comfortable with that, then read away to your heart's content. However, if you tend to be judgemental, or overly sensitive, or if you do not like to read opinions and thoughts that you do not agree with... you may be better off finding some other form of entertainment.

I don't have anything nasty to say about either of the folks that I know have read my blog - I love them both. They are dear to me, and I think the world of them both. This post is not directed at any one individual, but to anyone who is reading this who knows me in person, or who thinks that they may know me. There may be others of you who know me, who I do not know are reading this blog. Much of what I am addressing doesn't apply in this particular case, but, I cannot say what the next day, week, month, or hour will bring, and who knows what I might be thinking at any given moment? Whatever it is, it just may end up being put down here, and if you get your panties in a knot over it, I ask that you remember that it was YOUR choice to come here and to read. I'm out of it. As far as I am concerned, if you are reading these words, you have given me consent to be as brutally honest, as outspoken, and as blunt, crass, or opinionated as I feel the desire to be.



The bottom line is that I am going to post here just as I always have. I don't plan on changing a word of what I write to save anybody's feelings, to avoid causing shit, or to cater to anyone's pre-existing judgment or opinion of me. This is my blog, and when I started writing, I started out by sharing some very, very difficult feelings and situations about myself. I will continue to do this as the need arises.

I personally would not continue to read anybody else's blog that I knew in person unless that person gave me a clear invitation to do so. You now have that invitation with the caveats listed above firmly attached. I write about anything and everything here, folks, and I'm not going to tone it down. This is my place for expressing whatever I so desire, and if I can't do that, I might as well simply shut it down.

I don't plan on doing that. I look forward to my blogging time as a time when I can live inside my own head without intrusion or interruption, as a time of solitude and inner reflection, and as a time that is outside of my normal day to day activities. It is my own world that I have constructed, essentially from scratch, and in so doing I have found that it works as a catharsis for me, for my heart, and for my mind. In short, you have stumbled across an outwardly expressed inner landscape of my private mind, and you must realize that while you may stay, you must be particularly aware that the presence here of someone so close to me is potentially distracting, potentially disturbing, and may result in a nasty backlash if approached the wrong way... for either or any of the persons involved.

I don't lie about anything here... not bullshit stories, not bravado or bragging, but, and most crucially in this instance; not face-saving white lies either.

I am not inferring that I have had, or that I currently have any bad thoughts or insulting things to say about you... I am just saying that if it should happen that I do, I may very well address it here. For the simple reason that this is a healthy (for me) vessel in which to express these types of feelings and thoughts. It often works out that by expressing thoughts in this fashion, I deflate them and take the urgency and the volatility out of them, and thereby render them harmless and redundant in real life. By judging or by taking to heart anything that I happen to write or say here, you are stealing from me a process by which I maintain my day to day equilibrium.

None of this has happened... I am simply laying some ground rules, as I see them, for this small little patch of unseen disc-space that the folks at Blogspot have been kind enough to loan out to me. Since they have seen fit to do this, I have claimed it as my own, and therefore feel that it is my right to set forth any rules that seem right to me. I am the guy with the user name/password combination.

When I sit down to blog, as I am doing at this very moment, I am generally completely alone, or alongside my wife, who shares such an intimate place in my life that in this respect, at least, it is much the same thing (meaning that I am able to gather my thoughts and feel the benefits of solitude even though she is right here... she is non-intrusive to me in most any case that I can conjure up in my mind...). I sit before the keyboard and I pour out whatever is or has been going on in my mind. Then I play with it, and sometimes I get a cohesive post out of it, and other times I get a series of random thoughts, and still other times, I get complete shit and it all goes in the bin.... but this is the exercise. I don't have anyone standing in front of me... either at this moment, or at any time in the conceivable future to whom I have to answer. I am free to put my thoughts out in any form that I so choose.

I value this freedom immensely.

So it appears that I have gone through this long winded diatribe to say what amounts to this;

If I should write something that pisses you off, hurts your feelings, irks you, miffs you, or otherwise rocks your boat, I don't expect to be called to task for it. I don't expect to be asked to explain myself. I don't expect you to act strangely towards me for it. Honestly, I can't think of any issue that would cause this to happen.. but, I feel that it is necessary to put this out here. So long as you are on this page, you are in Bear's world, and you are asked to leave your conceptions and pre-existing knowledge of me outside. I don't really want to discuss my blog outside of my blog. I ask that you do not discuss my blog with others or, for that matter, that you do not even divulge it's existence to others (for those of you who have not met me in person.. link away!). If other folks who I know personally should stumble across my blog on their own and I come to be aware of it, I will send them a link to this post at that time. Please do not direct people that know me to this page. If I had wanted them to know that it existed, I would have let them know. I don't view this page as a website for my personal circle of friends, family, co-workers, and acquaintences. It is my own personal space, and a place for those individuals that I have come to know through the blogging community that I know only by a pseudonym.

I don't intend to come off like a great big dick by saying what I have said here, but, I still feel that it is important enough to say, and to say honestly. As far as I am concerned, it isn't an issue that need be discussed any further, I don't think it has changed anything between myself and any other person on a personal level, nor should it.

This place is here, and the rest of the world is there. Period.

If there are any of you who have experienced a similar situation, being outted, discovered, what-have-you.. I would be interested in hearing about it, about how it affected you, and about how you ultimately dealt with it.

If any of you think that I am spot on in the way that I have presented my feelings, I would be interested in hearing your comments on the matter... and, naturally, if you think I mishandled it, and am acting like an asshole, I would like to hear that as well... as I said, this is the place for me to put my raw unpolished thoughts out there to share with whoever wants to share them...

Now I am challenged to continue writing with the full knowledge that people who know me fairly well, and in at least one case, well enough to be a brother, are reading what I write. I don't think it is all that different from what thousands of other writers have dealt with over the years. I'll just write. What I write will either work, or it won't. I don't tell anybody that they shouldn't read what I write here, and I don't tell anyone that they should. On this blog, its all about free will, free thoughts, free expression, and freedom of creativity.

So.. that's the situation, folks. I'm out of the closet, it would seem...




... Look out, look out, wherever you are!! Ready or not, here I come!

Of Breakfasts and Afternoon Walks...

We woke up this morning and had our coffee while dicking around on the computers... Rather than type a post, which is what I generally do on a Sunday morning while enjoying my coffee and listening to 'Sunday Baroque' on National Public Radio, I fiddled around with my blog template and made some changes; sort of a symbolic spring cleaning, I suppose. Nothing huge, just some small cosmetic changes, and a tweak here and there. So, if the blog looks a little different, that's the deal.

We headed downstairs to rustle up some food, and decided against anything breakfasty.. instead, I made a ceasar salad, and Elysia made up a bowl of chick peas with garlic and olive oil which we ate in pita bread halves, along with the salad. We watched 'Tattoo Stories' on FuseTV and basically hung out after eating... she working on a crochet project (for me!), and I on an embroidery project (coincidentally, also for me! I'm a lucky guy in the handicraft department, lately, it would seem!)

My back was killing me when I woke up (every time I tend bar, I wake up the next day with my back shrieking and totally freaking out... I think it may be the constant twisting at the waist... I'm not quite sure what the deal is with that...)

Today was a gorgeous sunny day, with a huge sky, and relatively warm temperatures, so we decided to go for a walk. We walked down towards the water;

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

On the way, I found a tennis ball, and as luck would have it, it wasn't all sodden and wet and nasty, so I popped it into my pocket. When the weather warms up, I can spend wonderful afternoons making a complete ass out of myself attempting to bat it around down at the tennis courts along with my gorgeous wife! (In the meantime, Jinx can have fun with it, pawing at it and then chasing after it!)

One of the houses that we pass on the way down to the water had always had a garden that we admired. It was recently sold, and now the new owners have made their mark. Both Elysia and I are horrified! What used to be a gorgeous, wonderful, magical garden is now a showcase for the largest collection of hideous plastic lawn ornaments ever assembled. I can't understand why anyone would ever think that this is in any way attractive!! They must have noticed the beauty of the garden when they first looked at the house, intending to buy it... and I can only imagine that this would have been a major selling point... I simply can't understand why they would take something that was so wonderful to start with, and completely fuck it up! There is no accounting for taste, I suppose...

We walked on, and strolled across one of the many softball fields down there.. behind two of them is a pond, so we walked over to that, and watched the geese and ducks for awhile, until they decided that our company was less than desirable, and flew off in a huff! We continued on then, chatting all the while, to the sea wall. We walked along the sea wall, and finally sat down on one of the two park benches that were recently placed there as part of the memorial for two residents of the village who were killed during the 9/11 attacks. We discussed mankind's seeming need for permanence, in the erection of these monuments.. in stone and metal, that create a false sense of permanence, at least to my mind. Since we are inseparable from the world around us, it seems to me that we are a part of all of this, of everything, and, therefore, are permanent in any case, without the monuments and all of the other stuff. It isn't that I have anything against monuments - I don't. I just wonder if they are as necessary as we seem to think that they are. I guess they chiefly serve as a marker to remind us of people and of events past that we might not otherwise remember. All in all, thouh, the erecting of stone monuments and all of the other things that we do as humans in order to prolong our presence here, artificially (as it must be) simply strike me as being redundant in some way. At any rate, we sat and talked for perhaps 45 minutes to an hour, she and I, about all sorts of things;

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

After a time, we decided to head on back to the cottage, so we walked through the quiet village streets, mentally redecorating and relandscaping the houses and properties of our neighbors.

The birds all seemed to be unnaturally quiet today, as though they were all waiting for something to happen. Birds always seem to know about stuff like that...

We decided to plant a Forsythia or a Rhododendron for the Spring Equinox; a fitting way to observe the day. I think I lean towards the Forsythia. I like to let them go nuts... they look like a party!

Today was a quiet, reflective day for me. I needed the time to relax and to recharge my mental batteries. Tommorrow starts another week. I'm already looking forward to next Sunday.

Tonight, I think we will most likely cook ourselves a nice dinner, then sit together, enjoy one another's company, and work on our respective projects. A nice quiet nice at home. It's perfect!

I am tossing around some more ideas for future podcasts. I promise I'll make future podcasts much shorter. The size of the file of the first one pretty much excluded anyone who doesn't have a broadband connection. (I do not, and many things are simply passed over because I can't (or won't) devote the time to such a long download.

If I can figure out a way to do it, I would like to interview some of my fellow bloggers and post the interviews as podcasts. I could either send an email with the questions, have the interviewee answer the questions and send the answers to me as sound files - mp3 or whathave you... or perhaps do it over the telephone, if I can figure out how to record the conversation, though I would imagine that some folks might not be totally comfortable with that.

If anybody has any ideas on how to go about solving any of the tech issues associated with this, please let me know.

As far as the interviews are concerned, they would be along the same lines as the interview questions that I asked during the Marcheline interview.. though some of the questions would be tailored towards the specific interviewee's blog.

It occurs to me that these interviews don't have to be audio interviews, I could just as easily do them via email, and just post them as regular written posts here, though I would guess that many readers/listeners would like to hear the voices behind the words of thier favorite bloggers.

If anyone would like to consent to an interview in either media, let me know, please. My email address is on this page, in the sidebar. If you can't find it, though, or if you are lazy, or unable to move your eyeballs, or what have you... here it is: Bear_Tracks_2_Nowhere@Hotmail.Com If anybody has any interest in this, please drop me a comment or an email and let me know... conversely, if you think that this idea completely sucks and that it would tank, let me know that, too!

It's about time to start the dinner, so, I'm off like a dirty girl's undies!

SeeYaBye!

Bear's First Podcast

#01 Bear Tracks
Posted: 02:19PM Thursday, March 02, 2006

This is my very first Podcast. I don't plan on publishing a podcast for every post. It will most likely remain a thing to do now and again when the mood takes me, or when I have something to say that is better expressed via this media. This is a fairly long podcast, since I had no idea what I was doing when I took on this project. It has turned out to be a little longer than I had originally planned, but I am still learning and will work all of the kinks out over time, I suppose. In this podcast, I interview Marcheline of "Mental Meatloaf" (http://www.mrssplapthing.blogspot.com). We discuss a number of things, principally her blog, blogging in general, as well as other random topics that came into my feeble mind during the interview. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy listening. I will keep the rest of my podcasts a great deal shorter... I promise!

You can see my podcast page by clicking here

Bear



Click to Listen!

The Fartsack Parachute

When I was about 9 years old, I found a discarded cloth mattress cover on an old mattress that had been tossed out with the garbage, along with a large plastic bag that, I assume, the new mattress for whoever had discarded the old one had come packaged in.

I struggled and pulled and finally got the mattress cover off of the old mattress, then, triumphantly carrying my find, went in search of some other items... I had a plan, you see...

I scavenged a bale of old clothesline, and a few other scrap items, and fashioned what I believed to be a fairly functional parachute out of the fartsack, with the plastic bag nested inside of it, held to the cloth with a few judiciously placed stitches that I sewed in with quilting thread. I cut a hole in the apex, just as I had learned from books that I had recently read on the subject, fashioned some suspension lines and risers, and even a rudimentary harness, and, feeling satisfied with my creation, anxiously went in search of a venue in which to test it out!

I decided that the fire escape of the apartment building that I lived in would be just the test platform that I required for the experiment.

I took the elevator to the top floor of the apartment building, which happened to be the sixth floor, and snuck out onto the roof of the building (Where, I might add, I was unmistakably prohibited to be, for any reason at all.. the interests of modern experimental science not withstanding!). Looking down the six stories to the ground over the edge of the parapet, I quickly assessed that six floors might just be a little high for a first run, so I began to quietly and sneakily descend the fire escape, all the while judging my relative distance to the ground.

When I arrived at the fourth floor fire escape, I felt that this height would be just about high enough to give my 'parachute' time to open, while not necessarily killing me if it should fail, even though the landing surface below was a less than optimal asphalt parking area.

I strapped on my newly created contraption, and climbed up onto the rail of the fire escape, balancing precariously there like a cat, and just happened to catch a glimpse of the horrifed occupant of the apartment of whose fire escape I had just hurled myself off of as I jumped up and out, in an attempt to put some distance between me and the rather unforgiving metal surfaces of the fire escape, on my leap to fame and stardom. I could already imagine, quite vividly, how impressed everyone was going to be with my ingenuity and workmanship!

Much to my satisfaction, the fartsack parachute opened perfectly with a very satisfying 'pop'! Much to my dismay and horror, however, was the distinctive ripping sound that immediately followed the pop.... (oh..... shit!)

A huge tear had ripped my parachute open so that it was nothing more than a sort of cloth streamer trailing behind me as I fell, resembling nothing so much as a Kamikaze comet on a collision course with the parking lot far below!

I plummeted the four stories to the ground in somewhat less than a second, slamming into the ground at what felt like about 120 miles an hour. I had an indistinct plan to roll upon impact, much as I had been learning in my judo classes. What actually happened, instead, was that my legs, unable to hold my weight at such a velocity, collapsed underneath me, and I gave myself a rather substantial 'root in the stones' with the heel of one or both of my feet as my body slammed down onto them! I then flopped to one side or the other, removing much of the skin on my body on that side in the process, and giving my head a good thunk on the asphalt for good measure.

This all happened almost instantaneously, and I laid there, curled into a fetal position, attempting to breathe, and being somewhat startled at the intensity of the pain that was washing through my tortured body at the time.

To add to my relative discomfort, the fartsack was fluttering in the breeze, in what I considered to be a distinctly obnoxious, vindictive, and mocking fashion.

After what seemed like about an hour, a number of tenants rushed up to ask me whether I was killed as a result of my fall, and to helpfully make suggestions as to my future behaviour, my relative level of intellect and psychological stability, and my suitability as a member of society specifically, and as a member of the human race at large. While I was certainly grateful for their input, I nevertheless decided that a graceful exit was called for after a few seconds of this (well... maybe not that graceful... but an exit nonetheless...)

I limped off, oozing blood picking asphalt sprinkles out of the worst road-rashy bits, my body aching and stinging in places where I never even knew I had places, and found someplace that only a kid would know about and did the best I could to tend to my wounds.. both the physical injuries, and those to my pride.

When I finally went home later on that day, I was somewhat caught off-guard by my mothers seemingly psychic knowledge of my activities earlier in the day. Surprisingly, she raised many of the same issues as the other tenents in the building concerning my intelligence, judgement, and level of sanity, which, naturally, I found to be somewhat noteworthy and surprising! This was all very interesting to me, until the beatings commenced...

As I lay in my bed, the innocent victim of parental brutality and societal misunderstanding, I resolved to find myself a stronger fartsack the next time I attempted to leap from a tall building!!...

"You're 'Something', Right?"

A few minutes after I got home from work last night, my wife's tenant knocked on the door to tell me that there was no heat in the front house.

To make a long story short, she had two separate technicians here till late last night, but neither could figure out what the problem was.. never mind fix it!


I ended up calling in to work and staying home in order to call yet another repairman and to be here so that I could explain what the problem was, show him where the furnace was, etc. Needless to say, I was stressing out over what this was going to cost, since we don't have any money to spend... period!

When the guy showed up, we went down into the basement of the front house, and began to converse while he worked on the problem. It took a great deal of time, and he finally thought that he had it figured out. He thought that it was the transformer that is mounted on the ceiling down there... It was my thought that the transformer had been working since long before I was born, and that it seemed strange that it would suddenly go bad... I asked if there were another transformer anywhere, and he replied that he didn't think so.


I took a look at a schematic diagram on the face plate of the unit that he was working on, and pointed out a symbol for a transformer and asked whether this was the one on the ceiling, or a different one. He stared at it for a minute or so, and then asked me if I had a flashlight... lo and behold, there was a transformer hidden back in there, and after he pulled everything out and tested it, he determined that this was where the problem was! This was good news, because had it been the other one, it would have involved about two hours or more of driving in order to get the part, and the part was expensive.

After he got everything working, we came over to the cottage to settle the bill, as we were sitting on the couch chatting while he filled out the invoice, he suddenly looked over at me and asked me, "Um... Ah.... You're, like.... something, right??"

I said, "Excuse me?" (!)


He looked around the room for a few seconds, coughed, cleared his throat, resettled himself and repeated his question, asking me if I were 'something'. He looked very earnest, and I sort of had a sense that this was important.

I cautiously pointed out that everything is something, and that I wasn't trying to be flippant or obtuse, but that I didn't exactly know what he meant by 'something'.

He shrugged and sort of tossed his head, casting about for a better way to phrase his question... then he said, "You are, or were, like a priest, or a monk... some kind of holy-man or something... aren't you?"

At this his eyes grew huge, and he looked to be about nine years old. Something was bothering him....


I replied, "Well... not exactly, but sort of.... what's on your mind?? I would be happy to help you, if I am able to... even if it's only to listen...."

He took a deep breath, sighed audibly, turned to face me full on, and announced that today was exactly one year and eight months since his mother died.

Aha...

He explained that she died of congestive heart failure at the age of 41, and that he had had to make the decision whether or not to unplug her from the life support system.

This choice had been, and still was, burdening him greatly...

We talked for a good while, and I told him about when my grandmother died, and how it affected me, and how, over the ensuing years, I have tried to come to terms with her loss...


I explained to him what my views were on death, and life, and how I try to approach these issues, and I told him that I had absolutely no answers.

I told him ways that he was carrying his mother in his heart, and that, from where I stood, it appeared to me that she did a fine job in the raising of her son.

Lastly, I told him that when he made his decision, he made the best decision that he could make at the time, and that no matter what, that this was the very most that anybody could ever do. Make the best decision that they can make under the circumstance, and with the information that they have at hand at the time.

I told him that I was certain that his mother would not want him to carry this sort of burden with him each and every day... and that if he could leave it behind, that it would leave more room to carry her in his heart.


His eyes welled up with tears, and he asked me whether I thought he had done the right thing.

I told him that just by virtue of the fact that he was as concerned about the decision this long afterwards that I was absolutely certain that he did the best that he could have done, and that that is all that is humanly possible.

I told him that this being so, that yes, I thought he had done the right thing.

He nodded, and thanked me, and turned to go. I told him that I hoped that if anyone ever had to make such a decision as this concerning me, that I hoped they would take it is seriously as he had, and that if I ever had to make such a decision that I could do at least half as good of a job of it as he had.


His face lit up in a huge smile, and he took my hand and shook it, thanking me. He held on to it for a few seconds, looked me square in the eye and said, "I knew you were something... I mean, a holy man!!, I just knew it!!"

"Really?" I asked.

"Uh-Huh!"

"How did you know?? What on earth made you think this?", I asked.

He indicated me, with a sweep of his hand, and explained with a shrug, "You just look like one!", then, turning, he left.

I stood there, in the doorway, and watched him go, trying to decide just what a holy-man looks like, or if, at least, there was a single common characteristic that identified such a person from the rest of humanity. I can't really single anything out in my mind, though I can definitely look at someone and know that they are a holy-man. It sort of irks me that I can't figure out precisely what it is that clues me in. Since that time, I have been wondering, specifically, what he ever could have seen in me that would lead him to this conclusion...I am not, in the strict sense of the world, a holy-man of any type. I have not attended a seminary, or any other meaningful, organized course of instruction. I am, however, a holy-man in a broad respect, meaning in the way that I live my life, the way that I think, the way that I feel, and the way that I view the world, deity, and my relationship with them. Even so, though, I have to say that I am completely dumfounded at this, even though this has happened to me many times in the past.

When I look in the mirror, what I see is me, nothing special, nothing sacred, nothing holy... just me; A somewhat burly forty six year old, six foot tall, 250 pound guy, with a high and tight military crew cut, two days of beard stubble, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, sleeves pushed up to reveal arms almost covered in tattoos...

I'm not holy looking at all.

If anything, I look a little rough around the edges....I have been told that I have a rather direct, or intense gaze that some folks actually find a bit unsettling, which is sort of what I would think is the opposite to what I would expect to see in anyone that I would consider to be a holy-man.


It's extremely confusing to me, and runs absolutely against the grain, in my opinion. I'm not gentle looking, I'm not particularly handsome, and I don't exactly exude charisma.... I have a mouth like a sailor, and my hands make me look like I am a manual laborer. I can't figure this out.

I am glad that the people who need to see whatever it is can see it. I only wish that I could see whatever it is that they are looking at. I tend to think that I would take comfort in it somehow.


Well... now that I am thinking about it, I suppose the only thing that really does matter is that if I am capable of helping somebody in some way, so long as they see whatever it is that they see, whether or not there is actually anything there for them to see, or whether they are simply projecting whatever it is they need to see onto me, then it is working out the way it should and I can definitely take comfort in that!





It's still weird though... but in a good way...

 

Pinpoint Planning, Material Girl, Between the Worlds

My son is scheduled to come to visit while on leave from the Air Force this weekend. He is planning on leaving the military, and is going to be taking some civil service tests and that sort of stuff in order to prepare for his eventual separation from active duty. I would have said that he was coming to visit today, but that would have represented a gross inaccuracy on my part. I originally thought that he was arriving today, for some random, inarticulateable reason.. to the extent that I got Elysia up out of a warm, snuggly bed and dragged her tired ass to the airport where we stood around while I looked stupid for about 20 minutes before leaving and returning home, where I proceeded to ACTUALLY READ the damned itinerary that he had sent me via email, whereupon I learned that he will actually be arriving tommorrow morning at the same time... that being 8:57AM. So we will be getting up early on both weekend days that we would have otherwise been able to sleep in on.... (well... at least one of them...) because I am, it would seem... a complete dick. (sigh)

This appears to be a genetic deficiency that I inherited from him somehow, which seems to be in direct conflict with any and all natural laws and scientific principles, but I assure you that it is so;.... You see, the last time he came to visit, he advised us that he would be arriving at 09:00AM, when in fact he was arriving at 21:00 hrs, (which is 9:00PM). The confusion arose due to the fact that when in the military, all times are written or otherwise communicated utilizing a 24 hour time format. When he read his ticket, it said 09:00 which he understood to mean 0900hours, or nine hours after midnight... in direct contradiction to the particularly visible "AM" that followed the time. Had it said 2100 instead, the entire calamity would have been avoided.... in that instance, we went to the airport twice in order to pick him up once, and, so it would seem, we haven't yet found any reason to break this pattern of behavior.

I don't have any such convenient excuse, so I have to simply admit to being a complete dunce and leave off of it.


(Herendeth the daily gauntlet of humiliation)

I have noticed, as a point of interest, although not as a point of concern, that I completely lack a particular quality of thought, or character, or personality that just about everyone with whom I work, and with whom we do business seems to exhibit.

They all have a great deal of interest in the newest, most well-equipped, up-to-date, state of the art, bleeding edge, technologically advanced whatever that happens to be the focus of attention at any given point in time.

What the HELL am I on about (??!) you must be wondering?.... well, quit your wondering, read on... and I will tell you;

It seems to me that everyone else with whom I share my daily existence, excepting myself (and my wife), appears to know instinctively what the most sought-after faddish consumer item is at any given moment. Whether it be a game console, satellite radio, snowmobile, portable mp3 player, watch, television, cd player, cell phone, or what have you. They all know what it is, what its features are, how much it costs, and where, or whether or not it is currently available, what accessories are, or will, become available for it, and when, and just about every other obscure detail that can possibly exist regarding what, at least to me, is simply an inanimate object.

I have watched this process repeat itself over and over, and it sort of goes like this; A new doohickey is announced, and everybody simply must have one, or they will be miserable. They all rush out and purchase one, and everybody is thrilled! For a time. Eventually, they tire of it, and you don't really see or hear about it any more. THEN!, a new doohickey!, or an improved one comes out, and they all need that one! Same deal; they pine away for it until they get thier hands on it, and after some relatively short period of time, the object loses its value, and they want something else, something newer, something cooler, something that has more features,... whatever!... it is, apparently, an unending process of consumerism. I want, I want, I want... because I am entitled to HAVE! To me.. this is a mistaken and ill way of thinking that requires healing.

Strangely to other people, but not at all strage to me is the fact that I don't really have this going on inside my head... this isn't a pronouncement of my superiority or some arrogant statement... It can't be, because I'm not describing an achievement, I am describing an inherent quality.. It isn't something that I have any right to feel superior about, it is just something that is. I am left handed. I have brown eyes. I don't feel a need to continuously add to my collection of stuff. It is what it is.

I don't really want to participate in the whole consumerism thing.. I have, basically, what I need, and I don't go about attempting to continuously acquire more, and more, and more... I just don't. And I'm glad for it.

I am happy with what small amount of stuff that I own, although, admittedly, I do go out and buy the occasional book. Other than that, I don't really buy 'stuff' unless it is something that I need, (and I mean actually need). This isn't because I am a cheap bastard, and it isn't because of my crappy financial situation (I am emphatically not cheap or miserly, and my financial status is crappy, but neither really has anything to do with the situation...) it has pretty much always been that way. I just don't crave stuff. On one hand, it is somewhat obscene to me to continuously want more and more and more with no end in sight. Particularly when most of that stuff will simply sit unused in a garage, attic, on a shelf, or someplace else.

I am very much aware of what so many people do not have... and I am talking about basic necessities, here, folks. And I am also even more aware of what all of this amassing of things does to us as a people. From an ecological standpoint, from a cultural standpoint, and from a spiritual standpoint. I don't like what I see... so I have taken a deliberate step away from it, in truth... but this goes deeper in me, in the sense that I never really had this particular bent. I have always been essentially happy with the stuff that I already had, and I take care of it. I don't need the newest, shiniest, most up to date gadget in existence in order to be happy, or in order to feel a part of 'the club'.

It just isn't on my radar. And I don't want it to be. Honestly, its kind of creepy to watch from the outside looking in. I feel as though these folks really won't be happy unless they acquire whatever the 'flavor of the month' happens to be. Its sad, to me, in a way. They don't appear to be able to just enjoy life 'as it is' without having or using these adjuncts in order to do so... what does that say about us as a society, I wonder?

This situation can be awkward for me when someone says something like, "So, what do you think of the new Sirrius?(sp?), they're really hard to come by, eh?"

When this question was posed to me yesterday, I tried like hell to determine from the context just what a Sirrius (Serious? Zirrius?) was... finally, I was forced to admit that I had no idea what the person was talking about. This, strangely, affronted the individual who more or less stormed off in righteous indignation, apparently because he felt that I was being deliberately obtuse. I was not. I have since learned that the item in question is some type of satellite radio for the vehicle, and is difficult to find... But I don't care. I don't NEED a satellite radio. I don't care about them... I don't read about them... I don't think about them...I don't seek out information regarding them, and, since I have no plans to obtain one, I have no need to know about them.

I'm confused as to why other folks get insulted when I explain that I don't really buy stuff, as a general rule, and that I honestly don't understand very much about what they are talking about, since I have no frame of reference, and because of the fact that this subject matter holds absolutely no relevance to my life, such as it is, and, furthermore, (Wow! that's a lot of 'ands'!) that I am happy for them for the fact they are getting the thing that they seem to think is so important, but that I'm not sure why they need it or what they are going to do with it, since the last twenty things that were going to be the source of happiness didn't seem to last all that long....

This is where I am generally accused of being a weird fuck and dismissed. Angrily.

My question is this.. WHY do I have to want material shit for which I have no need and no desire in order to fit in and be viewed as socially acceptable?? I find enjoyment in other things... I read, I learn, I love the world around me; the sky, sunsets, plants, the weather, my village, the ocean, lakes, rivers, meadows... that sort of stuff... it is FREE. It is always there... and it is much more valuable to me than a television the size of a dumpster! I cannot find a single thing wrong with this view. It is a completely articulateable and more or less self-evident fact, as far as I am concerned, that this fixation on buying things, more things, and yet more things is nothing more than an artificial substitution for some quality that is obviously missing in each of these person's lives. If they were generally happy, and went and purchased something.. it wouldn't even catch my attention, most likely.. This is not the situation that I am trying to describe here. I am talking about a person who has verbally or otherwise communicated in a clearly understandable fashion that they will not or feel that they cannot be happy without the object in question. There has got to be something wrong with this.... there just has to be!

I enjoy being with people and sharing the now. I don't feel a need to focus on a piece of property. I take enjoyment out of the process of living my life with my fellow creatures.. whatever they happen to be. I like to participate in my life. To take part, and BE a part. I don't need things in order to do that.

If other folks want things, that's fine by me... buy 'em! I don't need them, and I don't see why I should be judged because of this. The things that I generally do want or need are almost never the new high-tech consumer items. I may purchase art or craft supplies, or books, or perhaps a music CD, now and again. I HAVE a cd player... I don't need to constantly replace what I have with the newest version. What I have serves me well, and I am satisfied with that. Grateful for it, actually. If and when I perceive a need to acquire something, I usually think it over and wait until I can clearly see a need for this new item. It just seems sensible to me to live my life in this fashion.

It sort of goes up my ass that I have to get badgered and berated over this unimportant shit. I would like to tell these folks to go fuck themselves sometimes, but I know that this isn't the right way to handle it, so instead, I just explain that I don't want to take part in the cyle of amassing material objects for the sake of having them without any clearly definable need. When I do purchase something, particularly something that isn't an outright necessity.. it is just about always something that better enables me to engage my world, rather than to close myself off from it....

I am a custodian of this world... I don't own it. I am keeping it safe and sound for the children and grandchildren be they mine or other people's, who will follow in my stead. If I take careless actions that harm the environment, or destroy life, or damage the earth, then I am, in effect, screwing the future inhabitants of this world... human or otherwise. Its a selfish act, and it is morally repugnant to me.

I am not the only custodian of this earth. You are one, too. Each and every one of you. Don't for a second believe that your actions, or mine, don't have an effect. However small, they absolutely do.

I cannot say that the living of my life has never caused damage to the environment... I know that I produce waste, and that I consume resources... I do. This doesn't give me carte blanche to simply go on a rampage and use and destroy everything and anything around me! I may not be able to live transparently, but the least I can do is to be mindful enough to try to keep whatever negative impact that I, as a living, breathing person, have on my surroundings and on the earth at large.

No earth. No life. Period. Case closed.

There is some skewed view that many people hold that we (humans) are somehow superior to other life forms and that we have some right or entitlement to take whatever we want, no matter what it is, and to destroy anything that gets in our path. I don't think that we do.

I would love to be able to live in a fashion that would leave no footprints whatsoever behind me. Because I live in a society, I am forced (or I choose) to follow its mores to a great degree. On the other hand, I must also consider that somebody has to set the precedents for these mores, and that each person has to take responsibility for the impact that they have.

I suppose in some small way, I am trying to accomplish this by doing all of the small things that I do. One of these things is to not to start being drawn in by consumerism... I haven't been sucked in by it yet, so I see no reason to start now.

For whatever reason, the group of folks at my place of employment are overly concerned with amassing property, wealth, or whatever the hell that is... the level of greed is disturbing to me. I hear people who live a comfortable life do nothing but complain about the things that they don't have. Its sort of sad, in a way. Infuriating in others.

I am glad that I am me, in this case... I don't want to ever be like that. I would be terribly disappointed in myself if I ever realized that I had turned out that way.


On to the next topic...

On a spiritual level, I have been turning my focus more and more in this direction. This makes me happy, helps me to feel much more satisfied with my life, even though I was extremely satisfied to begin with, and has caused me to see things from a different perspective and to think about things in on different terms than ever before.

I am not a clergyman, and yet, I don't think I am entirely secular, either.... I am currently walking between the worlds.... part of me in this world, and part of me in the otherworld... while simultaneously being entirely present in both. This is turning out to be much more difficult to explain in words than I had thought...

I have been set on a course... or have set myself on a course, depending upon how one looks at it, I suppose...

I don't know where it will take me, or if 'where' is even an appropriate word in this instance. In any case, I am happy to be on this course, whether or not it ever goes anywhere... things are just.... better!! So, good for me, I guess. If this is too much of an introspective or intensely personal topic and has no relevence for you, the reader, my apologies. It does, however, hold great significance for me, and for my life... so I feel compelled to share it to some degree. I just want to make it clear that I am not trying to coerce anyone into sharing my beliefs or to change thier own in any way. I am simply sharing my own personal experience with you. That is, more or less, what this whole blog is about, after all!

I am looking forward to seeing my son. He has turned out to be better, in so many ways, than I ever could have hoped or expected. There were a great many difficulties in our relationship, and in raising him.... they seem to have all worked themselves out. He is doing remarkably well, and I am exceedingly proud of him. The only thing I ever wanted of him was for him to grow and find his way in the world, and to be happy. It seems to me that he is doing just that. What more can I ask?