Sunday: New Year's Day 2017

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! It's a Sunday, and I'm hoping you're in the middle of a three-day weekend! Yes. The holiday seasons have turned into a series of three-day weekends, and it's nice. I hope you're off and are relaxing from whatever holiday celebrations you got your self into (and hopefully out of) last night!!! It's a Special Edition of Rants From A Midwest guy in the land of milk and honey. Yesss! It's special because we get to take a brief look back over what happened or didn't happen in 2016 decide if it was good, bad or other, and figure out what to look forward to this new year of 2017. 

The sun is out!! And the streets are still freshly coated from last night's rain. There have been more clouds in the sky than I can remember in the last couple of years of my travel to and from SoCal. It's a gentle reminder of the Homeland and the ever changing weather patterns, and I love it but not more than actually being in the Homeland when I can visit. Hahahaha. 


Like most people in the world, we want better things, more richness in our experiences, and strive to connect with our loved ones, friends, and maybe even ourselves. It feels like it was just yesterday that I was getting on a plane headed back to the promised land from a week of the cold and snow. As is the case most of my visits, I was greeted by family and warm familiar friends to keep me in the moment every day of my stay last year. The drive home from LAX was drab but the beginning of a new optimistic as I drove by what was becaming my place of practice and growth--Malibu Chiropractic & Wellness.

Well, it's been a year now. I've grown to appreciate a mantra I repeated to myself time and again ever more deeply.. all things are one and written by the same hand. Everything that was supposed to happen, happens..and for reasons that we may not clearly see or understand as our lives unfold (Sometimes they happen because you just made a choice-good or bad). It's difficult to see the emerging new picture of your life when you're still focused on the old one or the details. I made some new friends. I've refined some of my old friendships, and continue to have a great new job. My physical person continues to be a work-in-progress that dubs as my 'part-time' job of going to the gym or 'gyming-it' as I say. I had a list of things I didn't do the year before last, and the list of things I plan to do this year include returning to the world stage of travel and adventure (maybe checking off a few other things in the process). I've experienced just over 40 other countries and their respective cultures, and I think I may return to a few but definitely want to see a couple more.

Last year when I wrote this blog for this holiday, I mentioned in the list of things I did that, "I dared greatly and let myself be vulnerable to the pursuit of a dream that I could have the life ( a normal life) I want to have win or lose." The life that I have now is part of that dare; it was part of my personal development strategy, which should also be on your list of things to do--self-improvement.

The year had definitely went more smooth than my last. Most of this I attribute to an old principle a couple of my Bible school friends would talk about, and that is finding the peace in life. I often make reference to my friend Jon Gannon when I mention the idea of peace or "finding the peace" as we often spoke about it. My almost instant life besty I met in college. He was witty, funny, and easy-going but firm in his convictions about God, salvation, and his life's mission. He grew up in Israel and has since our college days been around the world fighting the good fight as he knows it promoting Jesus and the need for salvation. We were trained the same, by and large, but we now stand in opposite ends of the salvation story, and in it we still are close friends. 

Now, much like our college days, we continue to speak about finding 'inner peace' in our lives. Finding the inner kind of peace that makes sense to us even if it doesn't make sense to other people observing our lives. Finding it, the inner peace, isn't always in the most peaceful environments or situations. We understood it as a deeper kind of peace that we are 100% invested in with 100% of our being because in it the ultimate expression of our person can be reached, experienced, and expressed. That kind of peace in our lives gives us strength and the ability to travail into and out of difficult times when they come to us. I don't know about you, but I think we as a nation have some difficult days ahead of us, and every single one of us may need to become better at finding that kind of inner peace; we may have to do some daring with ourselves, what we believe to be right and wrong, and stand up for those convictions when necessary. Maybe it's time.  

I will end this edition by quoting last year's blog because it still makes sense. "Dare Greatly. The Creator is waiting and the universe is cheering you and me forward into 2017! You just have to do your part and step forward and show up owning the moments you are given. The sun has not set on you forever if you can still breath, and now is a good time to take action. Thank you everyone for everything small and great. Spoken and unspoken. Happy New Year!! God Bless America. 
#Allthingsareone #Mnman #Mnstrong #Californiadreaming #GetAdjustedToTheGoodLife

Sunday: A Knock At Midnight: The Sermon Conclusion. Updated: 4:50 PM PST

It's Sunday morning, and the sun is out. The sky is clearing up, and I'm at a new Starbuck's getting acclimated to the store. I'm moving this week to a new place, and it may very well be the Starbuck's I come to in the mornings. It's been a while since I started the journey of revamping or contemporizing an old Dr. Martin Luther King sermon titled, "A Knock At Midnight." In it, the Bible passage from which the parable is taken tells the story of a man that has some unexpected guess show up at his door, and he was in need, as was customary in his time, to provide them with some sustenance or bread as it was. And in his 'importunity,' he was forced to go to his neighbor and wake him in the Midnight hour only to be rejected at first; it turned out that it was his persistence at knocking that he got what he needed.

So, let me attempt to bring about the end of that sermon with some comtemporised ideas in it to help bring about an understanding of what was happening in the world then and how we find that not much has change now for the role of the 'church'.

As in the parable, so in our world today, the deep darkness of midnight is interrupted by the sound of a knock. On the door of the church millions of people are knocking. In this country and in many across the world through tele-evangelist like the preacher like Joel Ostein or not so long ago, Billy Graham, the number of church 'presence' members is higher than ever before but in decline. More than a one billion people are at least affiliated with one kind of church or another or synagogue.

This size growth of the church should not be its point of attraction. We should not confuse spiritual power or awareness and large numbers. Just because a church has three Sunday morning services does not mean it is more fulfilling it's mission than the church that is only holding one service. We cannot be judge a churches' Spiritual' in-fillment with the quality or the quantity of the worship team. I have found that being spirit-filled is really a matter of how good the worship service sounded and got people singing and clapping versus people seeking spiritual guidance and personal repentance. Being "spiritual" as many people qualify themselves, is a loosely all-inclusive standard for measuring a persons's consciousness of eternity within any church community or out side of any. These types of 'spiritual' church people are not the same as the ones that evoke positive community effects by being on their hands and knees. An increase in quantity inclusive of 'spiritually aware' people does not automatically bring an increase in quality of people but rather an indicator of its socially relative appeal and sense of "feel-goodism". A larger membership does not necessarily represent a correspondingly increased commitment to have good will to others or even follow Judeo Christian principles. Historically, it has always been the work of a few dedicated peoples that has made the world better.

And although a numerical growth in church membership does not necessarily reflect an increase in ethical commitment, millions of people do feel that the church  or being 'spiritual' provides an answer to the deep confusion that encompasses their lives and the outcome of this year's election. The 'church' is still the one familiar landmark where the weary go to in the Midnight hour. It's the one place of 'solas' which stands where it has always stood, the house to which the man travelling at midnight either comes or refuses to come. Some decide not to come. But the many who come and knock are desperately seeking a little something to help sustain them till the journey or episode of calamity in their life is over.

The traveler in the parable asks for three loaves of bread. Although he may not know it, he wants the bread of faith. In a time of so many upsets and even the disappointment of many in the past election, men and women have lost faith in God, faith in man, and faith in the future. The  blatant disregard for human life infects our police forces around the country. And what is their job, "To Protect & Serve". The last time I checked, many of our uniformed personnel are doing their best to uphold the law, to protect the citizens that gave them the power to govern and police over them, and provide service to those in need. And like in any group of people that have power, there are always a few that fail to appreciate the depth of their responsibility and that they have a responsibility to be humane, and it has lead to violence against people they don't like or to put it differently, 'violence or even indifference to the people they feel are not like them.' It's true, and we know this because the Black Lives Matter movement would not exist otherwise.

There is a deep longing for the bread of hope. Dr. King points out in his original sermon that the early years of our nation, many people did not hunger for this bread largely because they were caught up in progress. They believed that every new scientific achievement lifted man to higher levels of perfection. But as series of tragic developments, the on-going threat of terror, and the revealing of the selfishness and corruption of man only reminded them that "Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely." This continues to be a real and traggic discovery that has led to various social trends of pessimism. Many concluded then as they are today that life has no meaning especially among our youth. Dr. King was right in reminding us of historic theme played out in our culture. The philosopher Schopenhauer said that life is an endless pain with a painful end, and that life is a tragicomedy played over and over again with only slight changes in costume and scenery. Shakespeare’s Macbeth believed that life is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury. But even in the inevitable moments when all seems hopeless, men know that without hope they cannot really live, and in the night light they seek the bread of hope.

You don't have to walk very far or flip through too many Instragram or Face Book posts before you come across an old-fashioned notion of the bread of love. Everybody wishes to love and be loved. Anyone who feels that they are not loved feel that they do not count. Much has happened in our millennial time to keep people in touch but not connected. Living in a world which has become oppressively impersonal, many of us have come to feel that we are little more than a Face book friend or a foller of some one else's IG account. Bewildered by the tendency to be reduced to a card in a vast index of 'friends and family, People are desperately seeking the bread of love.

When the man in the parable knocked on his friend’s door and asked for the three loaves of bread, he received the impatient retort, "Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything." How often have people experienced a similar disappointment when at midnight they knock on the door of the church. Millions of Africans and other immigrants are patiently, or like the Black Live matter movement-impatiently, knocking on the door of the Christian church where they seek the bread of social justice, have either been altogether ignored or told to wait until later, which almost always means never.

Millions of American people are starving for the want of the bread of freedom, have knocked again and again on the door of so-called "churches", but have usually been greeted by a cold indifference or a blatant hypocrisy. Even the white religious leaders, who have real empathy desire to open the door and provide the bread, are often more cautious than courageous and more prone to follow the expedient to please the 'donating' members than the ethical path of accommodation. One of the shameful tragedies of history is that the very institution which should remove man from the midnight of racial injustice participates in creating and perpetuating the midnight many are trying to escape.

We, in the ever-growing midnight of war,  have knocked on the door of the church to ask for the bread of peace, but the church has often disappointed us. What more pathetically reveals the irrelevancy of the church in present-day world affairs than its witness regarding war? In a world gone mad with terrorism, chauvinistic passions, misogynistic approaches to women, and imperialistic exploitation of the working class, the church has either endorsed these activities or remained appallingly silent!! It's true. During the last war on terror, national churches even functioned as the ready prayer supporters of the state, offering prayers up for our mighty armies in singing, "Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition." A weary world, pleading desperately for peace, has often found the church morally sanctioning war.

And those who have gone to the church to seek the bread of economic justice have been left in the frustrating midnight of economic privation. Such is the fate of every ecclesiastical organization that allies itself with things-as-they-are unable to ride the politic from the pulpit.

The church must be reminded that it is not a the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic purpose, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority; it will be "Spiritual." If the church does not participate actively in the struggle for peace and for economic and racial justice, it will loose the loyalty of millions in the generations coming of age, and cause men everywhere to say that it has exhausted it's desire to do right. But, if the church will free itself from the status quo, and recover its historic mission and speak fearlessly and insistently in terms of justice and peace, it will ignite the imagination of mankind and reboot the souls of men, reviving them with love for truth, justice, and peace. People all around will know the church as a great fellowship of love that provides light and bread for lonely travellers at midnight.

While speaking of the laxity of the church, I must not overlook the fact that the so-called Negro church has also left men disappointed at midnight. I say so-called Negro church because ideally there can be no Negro or white church. It is to their everlasting shame that white Christians developed a system of racial segregation within the church, and inflicted so many indignities upon its Negro worshipers that they had to organize their own churches.

In the parable we notice that after the man’s initial disappointment, he continued to knock on his friend’s door. Because of his his persistence he finally persuaded his friend to open the door. Many men continue to knock on the door of the church at midnight, even after the church has so bitterly disappointed them, because they know the bread of life is there somewhere. The church today is challenged to proclaim God’s Son, Jesus Christ, to be the hope of men in all of their complex personal and social problems. Many will continue to come in quest of answers to life’s problems. Many young people who knock on the door are perplexed by the uncertainties of life, confused by daily disappointments, and disillusioned by the ambiguities of history.  We must provide them with the fresh bread of hope and infuse them with the conviction that God has the power to bring good out of evil. Some who come are tortured by a nagging guilt resulting from their wandering in the midnight of ethical relativism and their surrender to the doctrine of self-expression. We must lead them to Christ who will offer them the fresh bread of forgiveness. Some who knock are tormented by the fear of death as they move toward the evening of life. We must provide them with the bread of faith in immortality, so that they may realize that this earthly life is merely an embryonic prelude to a new awakening.

Midnight is a confusing hour when it is difficult to be faithful. The most inspiring word that the church must speak is that no midnight long remains. The weary traveller by midnight who asks for bread is really seeking the dawn. Our eternal message of hope is that dawn will come. Our disenfranchised parents realized this. 

Faith in the dawn arises from the faith that God is good and just. When one believes this, he knows that the contradictions of life are neither final nor ultimate. He can walk through the dark night with the radiant conviction that all things work together for good for those that love God. Even the most starless midnight may herald the dawn of some great fulfillment.

MLK and moderately con-temporized by yours truly.

Thursday: A Knock At Midnight..The Social Order...Continued from 10/19/16

It's been a crazy couple of weeks of official "casual" conversations with Minnesota officials, the rain fell in SoCal, my CPA forgot to file an extension for my business taxes that magically led to a penalty, and I had to find CE credits from 2014 audit. Yes, it was a lot of administrative stuff, and trying to remember things and classes from two years ago required going to the gym to de-stress when and as much as possible. Hahaha.


I mentioned the rain because it brought a nice and welcome change to the weather. I know. I know. My people in Minnesota are rolling their eyes at me because it's been non-stop rain and declining temperatures there, but here in SoCal, the rain is nice. The smell of  it. The sensation that it might be "OK" to stay in bed just a little longer came over most people I met with for coffee on those days, which is my second favorite thing to do when it rains. I mean grabbing a hot coffee or chocolate and listening to the rain come down from somewhere warm is a small joy for people like me. It made me think a little more about the passage that MLK went into in his sermon titled 'A Knock At Midnight," and I think I'm going to going into it some more today...at least one of the three components: the social order, the moral order, and the psychological order as Dr. King presented them.

I left off at the Bible passage that Dr. King presents as basis from which the sermon would be built upon.

Luke 11:5-8. It reads:

(NIV)5 Then Jesus said to them, “Suppose you have a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; 6 a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have no food to offer him.’ 7 And suppose the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity[a] he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.

Dr. King points out that it is midnight in the parable, and it serves as a basis for his thought concerning many contemporary problems of his day and even our own today. It is midnight in the parable; it is also midnight in our world then and now, and the darkness is so thick that we can hardly see where it ends or begins. It's midnight. 

It is midnight within the social order. On the international horizon nations are engaged in a colossal and bitter contest for supremacy. It's nothing new. Russia's President Putin invaded the Ukraine in what the news critics have call a move to re-establish the old Russian empire or resurrect the 'Iron Curtain'.  Syria's President Assad has murdered thousands of his own people in a bloody civil war to which neighboring countries sat  and watched only to do nothing. I guess they hoped someone else would do something. China is literally dumping tons of sand and dirt into the ocean to further expand its 'rightful territory', and North Korea continues to exercise its growing ability to detonate nuclear devises. Why?

It goes back to the vary nature of mankind-a deeply rooted need to feel or be supreme. We as America have fought two wars in the last decade in the name of terrorism and have been involved in two world wars there were fought just one generation ago, and the clouds of another war are in the air. New dictators now have the atomic and nuclear weapons that could within seconds completely destroy any major cities of the world. Yet, the arms race, although promoted as nuclear disarmament, continues and nuclear tests still explode in the atmosphere over the Red Sea with the grim prospect that the very air we breathe will be poisoned by radioactive fallout. It was true in Dr. King's time, and it continues to be true in our time. And the question we have to ask ourselves as we approach another Presidential election only a week away is, "Who do we want to be in the position of power that with only the push of button can bring about our very end?" Who will it be?!

Dr. King pointed out that our science has helped us in the past with coping with midnight in the social order. As was the case then and now, science has saved us. When we were in the midnight of geographic limitation and material inconvenience, science lifted us to the bright morning of globalization and shared material comfort. Cars, medicine, planes, vaccinations, food science, and health science have prolonged our lives even more than we thought possible with people living into their 100s.

 We moved from the crippling ignorance and superstition of not only the church but also our mixed cultures. Science brought us to the daybreak of being free and open minded..kinda. We have virtually irradiated plagues and diseases around the world. It's natural that we turn to science in a day when the problems of the world are so complex and interconnected because we have technology. The technological advancement of man has made great distances but a short airplane ride. We can talk to anyone anywhere in the world from the convenience of our own hand without ever having to physically see them contributing to an ever growing disconnected contentedness.  

As was true in Dr. King's time, it continues to be midnight in man’s external collective, and it is paralleled by midnight in his internal individual life. It's midnight within the psychological order. Everywhere paralyzing anxiety cripple people by day and haunt them in their sleep at night. Deep clouds of depression are part of many people's every day horizon. More people are emotionally disturbed today than at any other time of human history. The psychopathic wards of our hospitals are crowded, and the jails full. The most popular psychologists then and now are the Cognitive therapist. Bestsellers in psychology are books such as How To Be Happy, The Power of Positive Thinking, The Hidden Brain. The popular preachers of the day are on TV and teach us soothing sermons on "How to Be Happy" and "How to Relax," or give us Biblical tips to live by like Joel Olstein. Some have been tempted to revise Jesus’ command to read, "Go ye into all the world, keep your racism to yourself, and, lo, I will make you a well-adjusted citizen of society or the church." All of this is indicative that it is midnight within the inner lives of men and women.

It's also midnight within the moral order. It at  midnight that colors lose their distinctiveness and become various shades of grey. Moral principles have lost their definition. For men and women then and now, absolute right and wrong are a matter of what the majority is doing. Right and wrong are relative to likes and dislikes they get on Instagram or Facebook, and the customs of a particular social group to which they belong. Einstein’s theory of relativity, which properly described the physical universe has been applied to the moral and ethical realm of every day life.

Midnight is the hour when men and women alike are desperately seeking to obey the eleventh commandment, "Thou shalt not get caught." The ethic of midnight hour is to indulge one's self in the cardinal sin of "just getting by." It is all right to misrepresent the truth as long as you do it with a little finesse. It's OK to steal, if one is so dignified that, if caught, the charge becomes fraud and not robbery. It is permissible even to hate as long as one dresses his or her hating is covered in the garments of love that hating appears to be loving. "The Darwinian concept of the survival of the fittest has been substituted by a philosophy of the survival of the slickest." MLK. This mentality has perpetuated the gradual erosion of moral standards, and the midnight of moral degeneration deepens.

To Be Continued........

Saturday: A Knock At Midnight Revisited...

 

It's an early Saturday morning. The days have been progressively getting shorter delaying the break of the morning light till 7:00ish or so. With the delay of light comes the extended darkness. It's dark out earlier at night, and it's staying dark later in the morning. On top of it, the temperature is cooling; it's the sign that Fall is here in California even though the temps in the day time, when the sun is out, have been in the mid 70's and 80's. What does that have to do with anything?! It means more sleepy mornings! Hahaha! That being the case, it is why I decided to take to the keyboard this morning, but it's part of the reason why I should. With more sleep comes more time to dream, and if we're not careful, we could sleep through a period of great change.  A shift in or nation's history is happening and all of the events transpiring in present day is a sign of it. 

More and more, the reports are coming in that this year's presidential election is no longer about economic differences that usually come up as the main theme in candidate platforms.  No, it is something different this year. This year people say the election is about race and necessarily racism, and that's really the underpinning of economic inequalities in America. For a while, some people were trying to promote that we had solved the race problem evident by having a black president. What people seem to no see or acknowledge that although there were enough people that voted for Obama, it was only by a few percentage points over the number of voters that voted for McCain. It was not a 90% vote for Obama--that would've been more an indicator that racism might have been almost worked out of us as a nation. But it was more like a 52/48% vote that really says that every other person said, "No, not that guy." 

It made me think back to my days in the church where everyone one has an equal chance as "salvation" because God, in theory, is an equal opportunity employer, but in actuality, there was and continues to be a class based system even within the church. The missionaries (mostly white people), the pastors (mostly white people but more diversity), everybody else that is saved. Think about that one later. It wasn't too long ago that I was sitting in my two-seater Toyota pick-up truck in my hometown of Minneapolis. As was the case during the early morning hours of this exact season, Fall, I would sit and wait a few minutes for my truck's engine to warm up so that, in turn, I could use the heater and warm myself up from the bitter cold just outside my window. These were the days of my early college years. I worked at 6:00 AM and usually had to leave half past 5:00 AM to get there on-time. It was dark out, and in Minnesota the temps would often get down to freezing. So if your coffee in the morning didn't wake you up enough, the cold air would smacking you in the face certainly did. Hahaha.

In those minutes between warming my truck and driving to work, I listened to MLK sermon's and speeches on cassette tape. Yes. I had an Alpine stereo that played tapes in those days. As was the case, I was taking in one MLK's sermons and tying to understand it for what it meant to me in those days. Of course, I was in a missions training facility, and all of what we learned had something to do with reaching out to the masses but also how we should conduct ourselves with each other as 'God's people.' One of the sermons  I listened to over the course of a few mornings. It was titled, "A Knock At Midnight." It was long as many of Dr. King's sermons were. I guess you can do that when you're the leader of the Civil Right's movement and still have people waiting for the next word to come out of ya even after an hour of preaching. The sermon began with the following passage from the Gospel according to Luke 11:5-8. It reads:

(NIV)

5 Then Jesus said to them, “Suppose you have a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; 6 a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have no food to offer him.’ 7 And suppose the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity[a] he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Sunday: Thoughts from Lake Wobegon...kinda.

The morning air is cool, and the sun light is just starting to clear up the early morning darkness...the twilight. It's the level of light that begins to bring back the lines and colors that the distant buildings and hill foliage from the night's blurring moon light. It's early...5:43 AM. As is the case as of late, I worked my way out of bed attempting to not move my head too much; my neck was tight and its grip on my head had already began a what will be come a mild headache.

I reach for them with my fingers mildly rubbing my thumb against the other finger tips reviving them for a short task--finding the muscles buried deep in the base of my skull and neck. A mild attempt to coax the muscles into releasing just enough to avoid a headache. I know which ones to get to, and I think I know why they are going ballistic today, but it doesn't matter why more than how do I get to them and get them to let go before the day goes to waste. I know the answer, but I'm just to physically tired from yesterday's activities and my own therapeutic method of anxiety reduction. What's funny is I help people with the same problem, headache, everyday. I guess my own experience of them, headache and migraine, help me understand what people experience, and necessarily, how to 'fix' them.

After a few moments of hitting the right trigger points, I get up and begin to look for my clothes. Trying to go back to sleep was futile at that point. I had an agenda I wasn't sure I'm was going to do anything about, but I want to. I want to everyday that I wake up in my own bed and even other beds, but I don't. I stick to the plan: Eat. Get out the door. Coffee. Start typing. Watch the sunlight come through the window if it's not already up. Relax...hopefully. Tell myself that everything is fine. Gym.

This is all true. It's the ritual I go through some mornings more than others because I apparently suffer from anxiety (self-diagnosed). What should be a normal enjoyment of a good day often leaves me mildly anxious about what's around the corner. That could be the Catholicism ingrained into my psychology having been raised in St. Paul, Minnesota. In St. Paul, most of the population is Irish Catholic and feel that they're constantly in a balancing act between the good things in life and what "God" dictates as necessary cyclical punishment so as to not enjoy life too much because we might forget that there is a hell. Hahahaha. I didn't even hear that on a Prairie Home Companion, but it sounds about right as I think about all the stories of Lake Wobagon.

The coffee is smooth. The sun is cutting into the room, and from where I'm sat, I can see the cars go North and South. I smile. A few people come into the place with the look of wonderment on whether they came into the right place or not. I guess they were looking for something other than coffee at a few minutes to 7:00 AM. I go back to minding my screen. A few of the old men that I sit with from time to time stumble into the place and into their respective seats; they're early. Soo early that their minds hadn't quite turned on but their bodies brought them there on auto-pilot from all the years of doing the same thing. "Morn'n Doc. How ya doing?" Joe asks but looking at one of the two girls in the line. His mind may not be on but his 'young-girl' radar' was. LOL. "Fine. Fine," I say while holding up my cup of Joe to him. "Funny they're both named Joe," I think to myself.

I look through my phone picture gallery. I see a number of pictures from yesterday's events. A small girl and her mom that I've been getting to know. I think of how really blonde she is and her green eyes and wonder how she got those features considering her dark haired mom and lighter browned haired father, but there she was..almost an alien making faces at me. I guess at 6.5 years of age, the run-time on the energy battery has a half-life of 24 hours a day. I see pictures I took of the ocean, a few random selfies, and a misplaced picture of me and a different blonde girl with green eyes, and I stop to focus on it for a moment. I just saw her yesterday. We would've run smack into each other had I not stepped aside to let another couple walk by me at the gym. I smile and keep looking through other pictures of the week wondering which one to put into my blog if I get motivated enough to write one. I should. I'm over-due. I look out the window again to see if I see anyone or thing that will give me a clue on what to do next. I guess it's gym time.
There it is.

Sunday: The Sound Of Silence...Updated 09/14/16 08:31 AM.

Saturdays come and go. Every so often I try and get out and socialize with a crowd or at least be in a crowd versus sitting at home watching a show or movie with my housemate or just alone. Sure there is a girl or two that I could share the time with, but when you're not sure you have a future with any given one, it's better to think in the clear and be alone. This Saturday was a busy day between tax preparation, jeep inspection and cleaning, and gym-time. I've been lacking just a touch in the gym department this week largely due to a muscle strain I gave myself deep in my transverse abdominal muscles. It's an area I've been having subtle but increasing discomfort over the last week. It's either due to a build-up of bowel material or the same deep injury from earlier in the year now more apparent this week. Whichever the case, I had to take down the workout a notch or two this week, and that's OK to do..ya know..self-love.

The movie Kickboxer was on and seeing an old Van Damme movie is usually a good motivator to get out to the gym a second time in one day to test my healing progress. I went. I violently kicked and punched a bag, and eventually, I left...exhausted. I met up with my chic friend and frequent partner in crime for some casual shopping and food. Eventually, we ended up at one of the local dive bars for a drink and burger. I'm not sure how we got to the topic, but the conversation was more or less on the craziness of my former significant-the nurse. Oh, yeah. She still attempts to plague me now and then in drunken stoopers but recently because of back pain. It appears she ultimately wants to be 'friends' after all this time. I mean. I guess, and I guess I'm not interested. Neutral-Yes. Friendly or cordial-sure. Friends as if she didn't manage to do some horrible thing to me when I actually needed her-I pretty sure "No," because it would communicate that she didn't do anything wrong at all. And, that's just not true. I allowed the dialog to open in light of things I've written about people and the possibility that change within a person can come with time, effort, or even circumstance. That being stated, I hope she is a better person, but I'm good with maybe emergency-level need-to-communicate. No more. Maybe less. LOL.

In the middle of it, the jukebox was on and a familiar song began to play. The Sound Of Silence by Disturbed. The pace of this version of the song is slower and a bit darker than I already knew it to be in the original by Simon and Garfunkel. I don't listen to that song and others like it because of the times in my life they bring up and places around the world they bring me back to from my world exploits. As deeper emotions began to surface with their associated memories, I continued to engage in the conversation as best as I could. I was trying to avoid falling into the pit of life regrets and a few quiet victories that had transpired. Most of them alone but not lonely. Being alone in life is as good of an experience as it is to be paired up, but there are some things I'd redo with someone to share the moments with and maybe share a thought or two. I thought of my most recent former in all of it..and how "my words like silent raindrops fell," when it came to finding some neutral ground between us. It had been some number of weeks since our last encounter that was silent but communicative. So, I thought. As I usually say to myself when I realize how much time goes by, and as it likey happens to some people, I find myself saying something casual to her in my thoughts as if she were listening. My mentor says it's my own therapeutic way of dealing with loss. Then, I laugh realizing how stupid it likely is all things considered. Maybe. I believe all things are one, and people that have completed the circle of life, at points, remain connected and only have to focus enough on their person to be heard through space and time. Whether the other person is listening or not is a different story. 

Eventually, I left the pub and stopped by my favorite 7-11 for a few Scratcher tickets. Those things always seem to give me subtle moments of happiness even if I don't win. I figured a few would be good and help improve my ongoing internal struggle that started with the sound of that vocalist's voice. I sat in my Jeep to scratch and see what I won if anything. Although it may be a simple pass-time, I often go and get a ticket or two and people-watch as numbers of people walk in and out out of the place. I did it much more when I had first arrived in the area because I didn't know anybody and hadn't quiete developed the routine I have in place now, and it's good people watching! LOL. Then I leave after I get my fill of both: Scratchers and people watching.

I had a couple of winners, but because I had injured my ankle kicking the shit out of the bag earlier, I sat a bit longer before I went in to cash them out. I was putzing on my phone not paying attention my surroundings, which is a rarity for me...not minding my surrounding, but there I was playing Keno on my phone failing to notice my recent former getting a movie out of the Redbox. I started backing out hoping to go unnoticed, but by the looks of it, she was off in lala land and didn't even notice me. 

Later, as I passed out, the music resumed into my dreams...the sound of silence played. I walked along the cobblestone streets somewhere in Italy or France. I couldn't quiet remember where the scene was from in my past, but it was one I had been to it before in my real life and also in dreams before the events that brought me to them originally. I followed the signs in my life early on never knowing what to expect, but I knew I needed to show up to find out. I was just rounding the corner of one of the buildings when I was awoken by the sounds of Mortal Combat being played at 4:00 AM. I mean, really?! I tried to pass out again, but it didn't happen without a migraine that had started to brew in my dreams. I wondered if the dreams brought on the headache because of their content or if the headache had brought on the dreams, whichever the case, I had to change my day because I was less functional when I needed to wake. 

My normal approach to the day changed because of the headache, and eventually after some coffee and Advil, I made the approach to the gym. The Sound Of Silence played on my music app because I was trying to wear it out of my head and figure out why I was so full of emotion beyond the obvious scenes of war that came with them. Striving to keep pace, I wiped my forehead and eventually my eyes from sweat and the development of emotion in my eyes because I couldn't quite shut off the scenes as the moments passed. Eventually, I switched on some Annie Lennox.

I was clear long enough to switch over to a different cardio machine and start a second round of cardio. I looked up and saw that same familiar frame and hair style walk by. It was her..again. There are a few other gals at my gym that are close to her size, hair color, and even style, and they often catch my attention for a moment or so till I realize their not her, then I just wonder if they're free cause I apparently am attracted to that size of gal. LOL. But, when it is her, in those ever so rare moments, I know it instantly. She either saw me or didn't, but whichever the case, she went on with her business. I kept on with my elevated, fasted pace walk. Eventually I made my way to what I was going to start today for a workout. One of the regular gym gals came to say hello and ask a couple of nutrition questions. As she went on her way, I turned toward the front of the gym to switch my pull-up grip. There in the mirror reflection I saw her looking at me. She only stared at me for a few moments making note of the woman that had stopped to talk to me. She continued her workout for a brief period longer, but she eventually made her way out again acknowledging my presence. I guess the Universe was putting me in her way for whatever the reason, or maybe the opposite. Whichever the case, I decided to drive to the beach and watch the sunset. This is the picture above.
There it is. 

Tuesday: Sunset, Sunrise, And Thoughts On Being In The Moment.

It was just after 7:00 PM when the sun began to set. It was hot and muggy. The sandflies were barely minding their distance because of a few Deep smoke sticks I lit all around my camp zone, but it was enough. It was just enough reprieve from the insects to fall into my thoughts for the day or maybe resume a few thoughts that had crept into my head from earlier that morning when everything was waking. As the sun warmed the small particles of sand stuck to my skin because the humidity was thick and like glue, I could hear the air run in and out of my nose. For a moment I was brought back in time to a place were I sweat buckets while doing essentially the same posses for 90 minutes of active stretching in Bikrum Yoga--I listened to air run in and then out of my nose as I awaited the instructor to signal the next move. In those few moments, I wondered where I was at in life, what I was doing, and if this was it, "Am I where I'm supposed to be?" Then, like now, I wasn't sure because in the background of what has become a normal, routine life a small awareness that I, or at least part of me, was still moving or maybe just wanting to be in motion..still searching for knowledge. 

There is nothing more to struggle against. There is no enemy. There is enough to be had, and I am getting to enjoy the real sensation of enjoying the moment. But, it seems so hard to reprogramme my mind to do because most of my life I had to struggle. I guess I still struggle. We all struggle now and then, but it is different. As I thought about that sense of 'needed motion', I wondered if it was more of a human nature instinct to feel as if we have to maintain some level of perpetual motion in life. The idea that you can stand still but keep up with life is a misnomer. Standing still too long may mean you're actually moving backward. I guess its that sensation that you get after achieving some impossible task in your life. Ya know...that question, "Now what? Now, what should I do?" Maybe nothing. Maybe I should do nothing and just exist in the moment that I help create by showing up and just be in it as long as I can. Just being in the 'here and now' is ok. It's allowed, but there is something in me and maybe other people that doesn't always allow for me to be in it for too long. It could just be childhood fear of living in a hostile living environment where moods and attitudes could change instantly with little or no reason and the potential for physical harm was real. So, those quiet moments between 'events' may just scare me because of bad or negative reinforcement of not being able to enjoy the moment too long... or else. 

That being said, I think succumbing to the moment makes me feel that I've arrived and there is nothing over which to worried. Maybe this is an existential expression of taking control back from the insecurity of those early years and how I win over them now. Perhaps. I should date one of the gals I know that is half normal and a decent human being and live out my days striving to be happy and forget all the things that brought me to this point in life. Maybe I can be happy or am I lying to myself so I can believe I can be happy while trying to suffocate that internal need to keep going because that road has proven to be a lonely one, mostly, with short glimpses of connection enough to have kept me moving along. 

Maybe, it's the Universe, the Creator tugging me toward where I should be getting to in the long life plan, but because I needed to believe again by watching the sunset in all its majesty, that there is still a ways to go. I need to keep on preparing for it...the rest of the days I am to live when I put my hand back onto the proverbial plow. There is some excitement that comes with that thought as much as there is pain; I'm not as young as I used to be. Then again, I'm not as old as I could be either. So whichever it is,  human nature is just acting up again because it's really never satisfied. Or, is it something more that I should pay attention to because minding the same inclinations in the past has saved me from much worse things. I suppose we'll see what the days ahead will bring...confusion or clarity. 
There it is.