In case there was confusion...

Just to be clear...

If you behave in a way that makes you look like a ridiculous child, I will treat you as one. You may be shocked by the degree to which I will hold to this resolve. Many lessons have been learned along the way and I would be a ridiculous child if I failed to set those into motion.

The Beginning...

And first, you must be quiet...

I began reading a book for leisure tonight. The first book I've read in months. And for the first time since Friday March 12th, my apartment was quiet. And so was my mind. No late night blathering booming from the box in my living room. No feverish checking of various electronic devises manufactured and marketed as ways to connect with others. Just myself and a book. My thoughts consumed not with the swirling nature of the usual mess. Just words jumping off of pages, into the many lobes above my shoulders and through the imagination I have been blessed with.

A recent conversation, centering around the electronic book "Kindle" ended in my uttering passionately that this mechanism "takes the romance out of reading."

As I sprawled by body over my couch in an attempt to relax from the nine hour work day that will bleed into the seventy-two hour work weekend, I stood by my recent claim. As I bent the pages over while attempting to find the perfect position to read without physiological effort, I thought, this is it. This delicate balance of all forces, this smell of the pressed tree pulp, this eyes burning and skin itching with exhaustion, yet need to discover what lies on the next page. This is the romance missing when a true and honest piece of art is replaced with an easy scroll through "pages that look like a real book."

My space was quiet. Restful. My mind followed suite quickly. For this small gift, I find thankfulness brimming this evening.

The tin man

Trading feelings for thinkings...

I have had this dream, for years now, of morphing into someone who just doesn't give a damn. Of harnessing the ability I have witnessed, countless times in others, to simply shut off and be numb. Sounds foolish, I am sure, to dream of being numb, cut off from the part of the brain that feels emotional pain. Even as my fingers glide across the modern and fluid keyboard, I imagine reading these words, if they weren't my own, and scoffing at the ludicrous nature of my little dream.

In reality, I know that I would be less of who I am now if feelings were somewhat of a memory. If I didn't have two big hearts, one to pump life through my veins and one whose seeming role is to pump emotive energy through my system and out of my eye balls, I would be a different person. This I know to be true. So, my dream, like so many, is unrealistic. I continue to pay thousands of dollars in loans to educational institutions and still, no one has taught me to separate.

I attempt to picture boxes on shelves. Lids haphazardly balanced on the top four corners because there is simply too much to fit neatly. Boxes of emotive goo. Full of blurted out phrases and irrational day dreams. Labeling the boxes is where my photographic mind gets stumped. Some of the moments I've attempted to package away would have titles that easily jump from the center of my tongue to the tip and through the lips. Other moments, I would be left searching. An old woman still attempting to grasp the incident fully. If not fully, enough to label.

Although I am able to gaze upon the ones I love dearly and appreciate their emotional goo...I am fed up with my own. When I say, "I don't care." For once, I'd like to mean it. To embody those words to the point of convincing. Just once. For once, when asked if I can help, I want to say "no", plain and simple "no." No explanation needed and if one offered, may it be lack luster and a simple, "Because I don't want to."

Obviously, this will never be me. Those who know me well know that I am incapable of this type of function. But, one can dream, right? One can visualize the grass on the other side, with it's plush, soft, vibrant being.

And for those reading, whom I love with my second heart, I am just fine. This writing just a musing of thoughts once thought. The Avett Brothers "Tin Man" reminds me of how lucky I am to feel. And so...it goes on...

Tin Man

The Avett Brothers

You can't be like me

But be happy that you can't

I see pain but I don't feel it I am like the old tin man

I'm as worn as a stone

I keep it steady as I can

I see pain but I don't feel it I am like the old tin man

I miss it

I miss it

Oh, I miss that feeling of feeling

Blah Blah Blah

"A little less talk and a little more action." Man, that Elvis. Every time. The words before they fall, he catches and illustrates in impeccable style.

The sides of my mouth are sore from all of the explaining I've been doing lately. Out one side and before I know it, words are avalanching down the other side of my chin. It's an alphabet soup situation except without the cute baby and the parent close behind to clean off the chin. And prevent me from looking as if feeding myself is somewhat of a feat these days.

So much of my life and what it consists of is changing in the next few months. Insanely happy, I find myself not remembering that there are individuals whom I love and care for that want to know the whose-its, what's-its and whys-its of my decision. And so..the explanations tumble. Thankfully, most have been overly supportive, laughingly to the degree that I wonder if this was all some master plan that I am being graciously allowed to claim as my own. Some have not been supportive but those individuals are few and far between.

Whew. I think the last in a longer than I deserve line has been satisfied with explanations now. I find a restful place in the midst of the change that quickly, yet slowly approaches.

I suppose, if I were being true to myself and to others, I would cut the explanations down to a digestible, palatable meal of, "I want the beach, the sun and a robot." Something tells me, more individuals in my life would nod in understanding of that explanation than wouldn't.

Tired of Trying...

I have been writing all day to shake this feeling...

Today has been one of those days where I am either typing on the terribly small screen of my iphone because my computer is not near or attempting, without success, to blurt words across these keys. I am not sure if I am looking for a therapeutic babble or just for an unrestful feeling to cease. Whatever the case may be, I am not a fan of this feeling. Here's to a better evening and a good, long rest for a tired mind.

As the water rushes over...

An undulating ocean awaits me...

With salt on my lips and textured, curly hair, a fleeting thought passed through my being. This fleeting thought, growing larger and hungrier as the days passed, slowly encompassed the matter the rests comfortably upon my shoulders. Sitting across from my robot, I embraced the peace that lingered in the air and uttered the words that, within days, would turn my world from one side to the other.

I stepped onto the plane with a strange assurance that the next time my toes felt the pressure of sand between them, home would be around the corner. Flipping through my music on the two hour flight, I relentlessly searched for the confirmation of this decision. As I can only do through vocalist writhing of the soul, I reached a point where turning back on my decision, even hours after departing, was simply not a possibility.

I stand, equally as shocked as everyone at the decision I have made, to uproot this tree and attempt to find fertile, thirsty ground in which to nurture these branches. Each day, the shock fades into the background as sparklers continue to burn under the brow, embracing the unknown ahead.

As usual, Walt has something to say about inspired moments like these:

"I exist as I am, that is enough,

If no other in the world be aware I sit content,

And if each and all be aware I sit content."

A change is gonna come...

"We must exit our environment and willingly immerse ourselves in foreign experiences to

acquire the smallest, most miniscule knowledge about who we are

and what we will become."

As strange as it may sound, I have gained a tremendous amount of perspective about myself along the mini journey of my current vacation in Sarasota. Over indulgent and incredibly blessed, I have spent the days here with my good friend and for that, I am thankful. Moments birthed in laughter have grown and matured into moments of silence, contemplating those who have broken the surface and discovered worlds beyond. Moments of honesty spewed forth in the unlikely locations of seaside eateries where barnacles and sand tempted the pallet not. So this list that follows, a tribute to minds opening even in the shadows of slamming doors. This list, a olive branch to the universe and future endeavors blessed by the God I choose to worship. This list a a good bye to the oppressive and indignant individuals I once allowed to poison the path.

A camping trip in Alaska (with a defense of sorts against intimidating wild life)

A cafe small, but packing serious culinary punch. Not lame, not fading, timeless.

My words. In print. On shelves. In libraries.

A music filled home that vibrates with sounds of those here and gone that rock our world.

An embraceable peace between myself, God and the universe.

Friendly goats from which wicked goat cheese will be created.

Children.

Horseback riding.

Skiing.

Sandal wearing.

A wardrobe made with my own two hands. Stylish, not frumpy. Ingenious.

Chemical free products. Not because it's cool. Because this world is not mine to abuse.

Relaxed Shoulders.

If meat, then choose well.

A blinding love.

Well founded fear as opposed to irrational.

The beginning of this list only. More to come, of this, I am certain.