Ode to SpaceMaurader

I Haven't blogged in a long time. Largely because most of what I have to say is of a political nature. I haven't had much to say on a personal level because it is not insightful or meaningful, or comedic. It's just like walking to work. What do I say. Imagine someone asks you, "How was your walk to work, what did you see." You respond and say, "I saw buses. Chewing gum stuck to the ground forming black circles, which might have been dollar coins, until I reached down to pick them up. I crossed the street when the light was green. I thought about my relationship and how to make it better. I put on my mp3 player and nearly walked into a lampost." Descriptions like this are mundane, boring, lacking interest, originality.

Friendship

These past two weeks have dealt me a blow in keeping friendships alive. Two of my most important friendships I have been forced to abandon. A third has been put on hold. It seems that things always happen in threes. Either that or its just bad bad luck. When do you say to a friend that it's not okay to keep cancelling plans? Even if you miss them? Even if you feel like you would like to say it's okay, when clearly it's not? I just feel that it's so disrespectful to do that to people. And I can't for the life of me get past it.

Quotes

As for the snot, well it's not much use to anyone. It can't be re-used for anything. It has the advantage of being a short-term glue, but that's about it. It also has the inadvertent function of grossing people out and causing the face muscles to move and project a look of utter disgust on the face of anyone who experiences the snot of another human being.

Salmon

I am grateful. Very grateful. Grateful for all whom I know. For my health, my education, my house, my friends, my love of music and my ability to connect with so many wonderful people. But I am a little confused. Sometimes. Sometimes, I can't help but stop in my tracks and wonder. Wonder why there are so many obstacles in my way as I work toward my goals. Don't they say that if you ask the universe to help you out in search of your dreams, opportunities will open? I thought that's what they said. I may have misheard it, but that's what they said in the Secret, didn't they? I don't recall the last time I went through a day with little or no struggle. Not recently. So many obligations tug at my heels as I move forward in my day, in my week, in my year. I am walking through water that comes up to my chest. There is resistance with every step. I get used to the pace of resistance and then I look at the land to measure my progress and discover that even though I am walking forward, the tide is ebbing and every step is twice as hard and I find that I am standing still. I feel like a salmon, trying to swim upstream and that much of my effort is leading me to an unmoving position. Walking as though I were on a treadmill, getting the excercise, but not going anywhere. I don't want the excercise, I want the movement. Today is one of those times. This last 40 days has been one of those times. I am not sure why I try to move forward. Blind hope, carefree, lack of planning parts of my personality.

Unexpected

I do write. It helps calm the voice in my head. The continuing narrative that gives rise to worry and what if scenarios. When I'm not writing. When I'm not writing, I'm thinking or talking and often speaking judgmentally about others, to no avail. There's no end to being bitter. I did do a lot of writing when I lived in Deutschland some 10 years ago. I was out of language. I couldn't speak the common tongue (german), so I was locked into English. And in my head. I wrote. It was a discovery of my own connection to the words. I had that feeling again recently ~ in Tokyo. I had even less ability to reach out to other people and be myself in my own tongue. I did write, again in my mind's eye. I wrote to myself in monologue. Eventually I went out and bought myself a journal and began to meet myself in Starbuck's so that I could see myself again, hear myself again and relax in the comfort of my first language. Here I am again. Not writing to get away from the world around me, rather to get back to me, to see myself in another form. To hear myself consciously set out to express, rather than the continuous stream of consciousness narrative that goes with me through my day. Today was an extraordinary day. For even in this pit of despair and lost hope, I found some beauty. Other people reaching out to me to say that they were glad to hear from me. It was magical. It truly is. CONNECTION. Fundamentally who we are. And if the connection is from people we love, with whom we resonate, with whom we gong like a bell ~ you know those people!, then the day becomes magical. There's no other greater inspiration. For all of 10 minutes, I saw two of my close friends together curled up on their sofa, smiling and feeling blessed in each other's company. I had a chance to go rock climbing with an old friend who commented on an advertisement on a city bus while we driving to the gym "Hey it (the advertisement) says that we should be more awesome. I don't think we can be more awesome Vaughan!" When I came home I checked my email to see three people whom I really like had emailed me to say hi and that they were glad to hear from me. I phoned another friend who told me that we should meet. Even amongst uncertainty and unknowing, there's still the interconnection between all of us, that encourages us to celebrate ourselves outside of our tiny sphere of ego. thoughts that lead me to this place of hope include http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html and you.