Back From Winter Hibernation, And A Story About Poetry

I just looked at my blog for the first time in months, and realized I haven't written a damn thing since September. Ridiculous. I could use the excuse of not having Internet for a while, or living in my friend's living room for a few months, or being in the hospital for a bit, or just generally being busy, but these are just excuses. In reality, I was just feeling private. It happens. Sue me. 

I think it's time to get back on the horse. I don't have a topic for this little writing exercise, so if this comes across as disjointed and hackneyed, you know why. Sometimes you just have to release yourself to the forces of the great magnet and let the story flow out of you. Or something. 

Here's a story from the Old Country:
Once upon a time, I fancied myself to be a bit of a poet. This was during the time between high school and being able to legally drink and mingle with the rest of the "adults." Remember those days? When you hung out at coffee shops until 4am talking to your disenfranchised friends about whatever the hot button topic of conversation was at the time? Well, if you don't, kudos. You were probably too busy "going to college" or "making something of yourself." But I digress.

I remember the first time I read something I had written in front of a crowd. It was late, the room was smoky (those were the days), and the audience was 10 kids like me, sweaty palmed and scared shitless of the prospect of not being accepted as the artist we all KNEW we were. Granted, we all acted like we were old hands at this kind of thing. There's something about the insecurity of youth that makes you think vulnerability is a crutch that should never be shown to anyone you're not trying to have sex with, and this vulnerability makes for a tough crowd.

I stood outside smoking cigarettes with reckless abandon while I went over my poem over and over. I don't remember what it was about, and any copies have been subsequently lost to posterity, but I remember thinking at the time that is was a perfect representation of my jaded, tortured soul. I was so proud of myself. I had finally produced something that I had enough confidence in to share with the world. And dammit, tonight was going to be the night (there may have been a girl I was trying to impress, but who remembers these things?).

I waited at the back of the room we had commandeered for our little open mic session for my name to be called. It was the second longest wait of my life (I'll tell you about the longest wait some other time). There is nothing quite like the first time you bare your soul in front of strangers. While part of you is excited to bask in the warmth and adulation of your expected stardom, the bigger part of you is screaming in your ear to just get the fuck out of there before you inevitably make a heroic ass of yourself. It's a hell of a mental state to be in. 

When I was finally called, I almost didn't go up. The fear was palpable. The dark voice of insecurity whispered the most beautiful things to try to save me from what it thought was going to be certain, mortifying embarrassment. But I went up anyway.

I don't remember how the crowd responded to me, or if they liked my work, because the amount of adrenaline flowing through my body gave me horse blinders and a temporary case of tinnitus. All I remember is the sense of accomplishment I had just for getting up there and doing it. And that memory has stuck with me. 

Word.

Standing Back Up

I want to talk about learning from your errors and the letting them go, and how ridiculously hard it is to learn to do so.

First off, I'm terrible at this. I'm better at it than I was at, say, 18, but I feel like a 33 year old hairless ape should be a bit more advanced than I am. And there was your first example. I couldn't make it through two paragraphs without disparaging myself. I'm telling you, this whole acceptance of self thing takes work. I have friends that this skill seems to come to naturally, and I envy them. For the rest of us, letting go of past failures is like cutting off a tumor without the benefit of anesthetic. I don't know about you, my dear readers, but for me there is almost a fear involved, like I'm accidentally letting go of some mysterious part of me that I'll desperately need later. This is all bullshit, of course. If we don't let the bad go, how can we have room for the awesomeness in our lives? Of course, this is significantly easier said than done. 

I wish there were some magic advice I could share that would allow all of you to be able to instantly unload all of your bullshit and we could come together as one hive mind, free of all negativity and strife, to explore the universe together in eternal bliss. Unfortunately this skill, like any other skill, takes effort and perseverance and all those words that a thesaurus will tell you basically mean work. There's no escaping it. And, if I'm really honest with myself, the reason I'm only as far along the path as I am is due directly to the amount of work I've put in. Because it's way easier to just fuck off and party and forget about all of your troubles and just slack through life. Now, I'm not saying anything against partying, slacking off, or general fuckery. These things are important to a balanced life. All I'm saying is that you need to put in some work now and then on yourself. Your life is a direct (sometimes painful) reflection of what you've put into it, so be careful what you put into it. 

I don't have answers. All I can do is pick apart my short existence here on Earth as an example. An example of what, I'll never be sure. Maybe it's an example of a trajectory of one specific piece of stardust, hurling through beyond, without the slightest notion of a destination. Yeah, I like that.

The Birthday Blog.

33 trips around the sun. What a concept. I don't know about you all, but I love the fact that we are all living on an organic spaceship orbiting a nuclear reactor, amongst a bunch of other organic spaceships orbiting their own nuclear reactors, orbiting some other interstellar gravity event that will eventually hit the reset button, only to start the process all over again in a few billion years. The only constant in any world is change, and to embrace it is to embrace the closest thing to reality that we can all objectively experience.

Now, on a more terrestrial level, that last year has been change incarnate. Somewhere between the spectacular highs and cataclysmic lows, I've learned some incredibly valuable life lessons. Although there are too many to list here, I'll give you the top 5 (in no particular order):

1- No matter what you've done, or where you've been, or how you were brought up, everyone has something to teach you. And I mean EVERYONE. Most of the time, the lessons are subtle, nuanced, and almost invisible. But, with the right kind of eyes, there is wisdom in it all. It might not be the wisdom you're looking for at the time, but it's there. Pay attention.

2- You get out what you put in. Think of it like a car. If you ignore the basic maintenance (changing the oil, keeping air in the tires, praising it when it does a good job, etc.), it will eventually give up on you. Now apply this to your relationships. Yes, really.

3- You never know how much time you have here, so try to make it a positive experience. I don't just mean for you, but for everyone. That being said, you don't have to sacrifice your well being for everyone around you. Find a balance that works for you, and learn to enjoy the act of giving. You'll feel better, I promise.

4- Get a hobby. I'm not saying stamp collecting or baseball cards should be in your future. I'm saying you should find something in your life that brings you a few minutes of calm and allows you to regroup and get centered. It can be anything (as long as it's not terribly detrimental to your physical or mental health), as long as it provides some kind of solace. Me, I like writing sarcasm. 

5- Become your own advocate. This one is incredibly hard for me. I've never had the best self-esteem, but I'm learning that it is more of a learned process, as opposed to an innate skill. Some of us are lucky enough to be born with bad-assery built in, but the rest of us have to learn it over a period of time. It's a long, hard road, but well worth it. Once you can accept your own awesomeness, you can do anything, deal with anything, love anything. True story.

This is by no means a complete or definitive list. This is just what I've gleaned from this last lap around the sun. That being said, let's start a conversation. Comment on important life lessons you've learned, and maybe we can all help each other become better adjusted humans. Word.

Five Year Plan

"Life moves by pretty fast. If you don't stop and take a look around sometimes, you might miss something."

I take comfort in these words. 

I've been traveling for a month. I've been on planes, trains, and automobiles. It's been stupidly fun and and just irritating enough to balance everything out.

My life has changed dramatically in the last month. I'm finally starting to see the fruits of the last five year's labor. I'm finally actualizing all of these hair brained, skin of my teeth plans I've been rambling about for years. And I bought a new fly rod.

I'd love to delve deeper, but I'm on my way out the door to see Old Crow Medicine Show at Red Rocks. It's a tough life, but someone has to hold down the fort. I'll write more this weekend when I get back to the Great White North.

Ramblings Of A Snow Addict

I keep trying to write about how something profound and engaging, but if I'm truly honest with myself, all I can think about right now is next winter. I've realized that the seasonal snow isn't something I simply enjoy, but an integral part of my existence. I could no more separate myself from winter than I could separate myself from one of my arms. It's only June 11th, and all that I can think about is snow. I have a whole season of fishing in front of me (which is awesome), but my mind is on a mountain, peering into the white abyss of a steep entrance and a sketchy exit.  Addiction doesn't even begin to cover it.

Until then, I will have to subsist on sick video parts that approximate my wildest snow fantasies. Things like this. Watch it. 

For Doug

I don't know how to start this one. Everything floating in my head seems either preachy, or hackneyed, or just plain sad. But, the show must go on.

I guess I can start with this: Doug was a hero to me. He was the kind of man I wanted to be. He was confident. He knew music. He worked at the coolest bar on the planet. And he smiled readily. The fact that he also managed to start what is quite possibly one of the cutest families in the history of families is also not lost on me. He was a Burque Renaissance man.

I met Doug when I was 13. Back then, he was a lowly barrista at the coolest coffee house in town (seeing the theme here?). Even then, he exuded "cool motherfucker" as easily as spent air. He kept everyone around him smiling. He still does.

I'm still at a loss for words. The vacuum of grief is powerful. When we lose one of God's own prototypes, it's like losing the last black rhino. There will most likely never be a genetic configuration like that ever again. And we were lucky to have been a part of it while it lasted.

Godspeed Doug. And if God won't take you, come on back. There's plenty of room on my side of the bar.

When when is when.

I just had to do the hardest thing I've had to do since being out of the hospital: I canceled my month and a half long road trip to the lower 48. Why? Because I'm just not feeling 100% about it anymore. I'm getting the same feeling I get when I'm out skiing and find myself out of my league. And then, as it is now, is time to pull out. 

I suppose this isn't really the hardest thing ever. I was really looking forward to 4 days on ferry coming down. I was looking forward to seeing my friends in Seattle and other places I  now won't be going to this summer. I'll still be heading home for a few weeks, but I'll be flying instead of driving and be more limited without a vehicle, but I'll be making the right choice for my health. I think this is the first time I've ever really done that.

Maybe this is what wisdom is. Maybe I'm beginning to touch on that often sought state of "enlightenment." Or maybe I'm just not being stupid and listening to what my body is telling me. Either way, this may be the most adult decision I've ever made, when distilled down to it's very core. It's almost as if I'm learning.

What a concept.