Tag: blog

parting

A couple weeks back I vague-posted about someone in my family making a lifestyle change. It’s still underway, and although I realize the help I offered and delivered on was sweeping an aggressive, it was only the beginning… and as much as I’d love to get into detail about the situation, it’s not prudent at this time, so forgive me if I keep it somewhat vague.

I will say that it involved a family-sourced ‘cleaning day’ and the rental of a very large garbage bin, and what I didn’t really realize until the 11th hour is that the majority of what was going into that garbage bin ‘belonged’ to a different family member, who despite knowing all about this cleaning day, was unavailable.

I understand now that my true act of service that I was performing, was being the scapegoat for everything that WE did that day. In spite of the fact that we kept everything of value, and only threw away (actual) garbage, I have brought down hellfire upon myself, and have been accused of all kinds of heinous things, none of which are true – and have even been formally threatened.

Now, I didn’t feel threatened, so I don’t believe I’m in any real danger, nor do I think that the person who uttered the (actual) threat has the means to do anything retaliatory, but a threat was uttered and that’s an actual crime, as opposed to what I’ve done – which is not a crime.

I’ve put a lot of work into myself, and I do a lot to let myself off the hook for things I can’t control, and stay out of situations that don’t concern me directly, so it’s been a bit jarring to realize that this situation does concern me directly and that as much as I want to assume the lotus position and breathe through this – I also have a duty to my household and my family to protect them and provide an example of how to behave in these uncommon situations.

So, I wrote a letter.
It took me three days to write it and calm myself.
Three days to remove myself from the situation, breathe, vent, breathe some more… I ran 22 kms and rode my bike 18 kms… and when I finally got to a point where I’d sweated out my last bit of discomfort with this whole situation, I still felt like the letter needed to be sent.
And I sent it.

It was devoid of any personal insults toward my family member, but it did outline why and how the original event needed to happen, and listed some very serious concerns for this person’s well-being regarding who the very destructive partner they’re with and the lifestyle they’re adopting… and ultimately – and this has been a point of contention – my resistance to apologizing for doing what I did, because in my heart I know that I was asked to do this out of desperation and I know for a fact that if I could go back in time and change the way this was handled, I would do it exactly the same way.

Then I hit the ‘block’ button, as I truly believe I said what was important.

So it’s been really fucking hard, but I’ve removed a family member from my life.

And for the last 3 days since that’s happened… I’ve been completely drained.

discomfort

I don’t know if it’s been a particularly trying time, or if it’s been business as usual and I’m dwelling on things that need not have that level of attention. As I take a step back, it’s business as usual, but what’s unique to this time is the vehicular challenges I’ve been facing.

My faithful Ford Ranger (read: capital R, lower-case ‘anger’) pickup truck died on me a few weeks ago, and through some combination of stubborness and mental and emotional fortitude, I have still not sought the help of any professionals in this field. It’s a problem I want to solve on my own, and I have the skills to do it, but what I lack is the time… so as my neighbors quietly judge me (maybe), I continue to try things, test things, replace things, and audibly swear. For those who care, there’s no spark, and I’m close to having tested and/or replaced the entire ignition system, so I must be close.

The insult that’s been added to that injury is that someone thought it might be a good idea to drill a hole in my gas tank and steal the ingredients. They likely made off with about $20 of my full tank, allowing an additional $75 worth to drain into a nearby manhole, and if my impending gas tank patch job doesn’t work, a $1000 part to order and install. I’d rather they’d have taken my catalytic converter, as is the Edmonton tradition. That’s a problem I can solve on my own.

So in the meantime, I’ve been driving my 1962 Ford Fairlane 500. An absolute gem of a car that I love dearly, but it is a project car, and it’s age is showing in some regards so I’d rather not be leaning on it as hard as I have been lately. It’s my love for that car that has taken time away from fixing my truck.

The icing on the cake is that my mountain bike also needs parts… it’s functional, and a lot of fun to ride, so not really a concern… but still, literally every vehicle I own is in a state of disrepair.

The lesson here is probably patience. Most lessons tend to have patience as; at very least, and undertone. Really, I’m finding that I am too busy and my life is too full to really take the time required to solve required problems. This is something I aim to remedy. My girlfriend and I are making a conscious effort to stop & smell the roses, and really enjoy the summer while it’s here. I’ve certainly earned a lovely tan while running in the early morning sun and working on my old-ass house, my old-ass car, and my truck that is getting older & older-ass as we go, here.

At any rate, if all goes well, I’ll be driving my choice of selections from this small fleet of vehicles by the time this blog entry gets posted. In the midst of it all, I still managed to write an absolute banger of a honky-tonk rock & roll song called ‘one problem at a time‘ which maybe you’ll get to hear sometime next year.

Until next time…

service and change

I; or rather, we, have recently been invited to help a family member take on a rather lofty challenge. A change in lifestyle, if I may be so vague – and as someone who has undergone a few changes in lifestyle over the years I can say with great certainty that there is always a blast-radius, and that there are ALWAYS people in the blast-radius.

Those people are often bewildered at the notion that someone might want to improve their situation and they almost always take it personally. This is because change is happening to them, even though it’s peripherally, they really don’t have a choice in the matter any more than the drinking buddies of an alcoholic in recovery would have a say in his or her recovery – though their social dynamic is changing.

These folks in the blast-radius are; in my experience, almost always operating at a lower vibration. Without putting too fine a point on it, they are the crabs in the bucket who are trying to pull someone down in order to keep that person at their level. I’ve been at the lower level, and I know what it looks and feels like. I even tried to pull people down, until one day I decided to escape the bucket myself.

So… I; or rather, we, have been called to service – and you’d be hard-pressed to find an ideology that doesn’t support the notion of helping when called.
And… straight-up: helping suuuucks. It’s ultimately thankless, hard work on the part of all supporters, with none of the glory or accolades when it goes well… so if that’s why anyone’s helping, they’re more than likely standing in the way of progress, whether they’re cheerleading or not.

This situation is no different. There are bewildered people in the blast-radius of this scene, and as hurt as they might be, I have to declare aloud that my act of service is not to them. Furthermore, I cannot take on their hurt feelings as my own. Those feelings are theirs to reckon with… and if I sugar-coat things for them, or try and soften the blow, then I do a disservice to the person who’s actually asked for help. As the old non-vegan 😦 saying goes… “If you want to make an omelet, you’ve got to crack a couple eggs.”

Did I mention this suuuucks?

Without divulging too much, I’ll also state that the folks in the blast-radius have been taking advantage of the person who’s asked for help – and I’m related to all of these people – BUT, that doesn’t change the dynamic.

You might get asked for help.
People on the periphery might get upset about it.
You cannot let them distract your from your purpose – which; in that moment, is to fulfil an act of service.

For me; or rather, us, it’s a scene that will play out over a long period of time, so I expect I’ll get more than one blog post out of it, too.

mindful action

I recently heard a comedian talk about ‘mindfulness’ and the buzz around that word in the context of being aged in a tech-forward time. He’d stated that the notion of being mindful wasn’t a thing 30 years ago because if you had to ride the bus somewhere, all you really had to entertain you was the other people on the bus or the view out the window, and if when you got where you were going – say, a movie or something – and the person you were meeting got there 20 minutes later than you, your only option was to wait.

You might have had a portable music player but they were so horribly inefficient at that time that you might get 4 hours of cassette play out of a set of batteries, and that carrying around what would eventually be a dead walkman was actually a hassle.

So you were forcibly “in the moment” more often than not.

Now, we have mass distraction whenever we want it. We have a casino, weed shop, strip club, 24-hour sports channel, and tabloid in our pockets at all times and we can constantly see what other people are doing, or even spend an incredible amount of time planning and uploading a selfie.

We have the option to never be in the moment again, as our brains can constantly be elsewhere.

This is why art is so important to me.
When I’m writing this, it’s all I’m doing.
When I’m playing guitar – for people or not – it’s all I’m doing.
When I’m running – it’s all I’m doing.

I’ve long time been a proponent of delving into a thing – running, for example – and being in that state as long as possible, connecting with nature and seeing what can happen at the edge of my capabilities, but I’m coming to understand that it’s more than that.

It’s also meditative, and present.

If I’m not present when I’m running, or riding a bike, I fall. If I’m not present when I’m performing or practicing, I give a lousy performance. I have to be focused and meditative in order to get the job done.

If I’m driving a car while looking at my phone, it’s incredibly dangerous – yet people still have massive struggles with putting the phone down and being present… and as far as I can see, it’s because they’re out of practice. Even in conversation with someone else – if we are watching my phone at the same time, we’re cheating both parties out of this experience and fellowship, and possibly even showing disrespect.

Mindfulness is a muscle that needs to be exercised, not only to keep it strong, but to prevent it from becoming week.

It might sound crazy – even after 3 years of writing this blog, but I’m 42 years old and I’m (still / again) learning how to be alone with myself.

Sisyphus

In times such as these, with high inflation, increasing job turnover, general discontentment with wages, a mental health crisis, and all of the woes that come with the changing times, I feel like I hear the comparisons to Sisyphus’ plight – rolling the boulder uphill for eternity – all the time.

In the moment, that might seem relatable, but there are a few things to know about Sisyphus before making that comparison. As all stories of ancient Greece and the gods, there is justice being doled out in every story, so before we go tying ourselves to the plight of a character, we should take note of one thing:

Sisyphus was an asshole. A smooth-talking and outwardly polite asshole by all accounts, but an asshole nonetheless.

The first king of Ephyra; the region now known as Corinth, was an evil king who killed visitors to his land as a show of strength, which was a violation of the tradition of hospitality as laid out by the gods. He conned his way out of death – twice – including sweet-talking his way out of the underworld with a promise he’d never intended to keep. So upon his 3rd encounter with the underworld, was given the option to submit to death and live in the underworld, or take the opportunity to leave once again and live forever – IF he could roll the boulder up the track and push it out of the underworld.

… so there he is, gradually going mad, having given his boulder a name and speaking to it like it was his confidant and friend.

That latter part could maybe be compared to the concept of the ‘work family’ depending on your work place, I guess – as with the concept that Sisyphus is working towards total freedom as many of us are working toward retirement… but at the core of the story is an absolutely terrible person who placed himself, through his own deeds, in a terrible position…

… and I may or may not know you… but I don’t think that’s you.

everything is a gift

Despite my propensity to tune in on the regular, I’ve grown to loathe most aspects of social media. I can never say it’s 100% good or 100% bad because there’s a lot of observational evidence to deny both, but as I try to be less critical and judgemental of people, I’ve been finding that the majority of what I’m seeing on social media is what I’m trying to stop doing… which, as you can imagine, makes me want to judge people for judging people.

I’m at odds with it.

The voice of god put a book in my ears recently. It was “From Punk To Monk” – the memoir of Ray Cappo, singer of Youth of Today and Shelter, yogi, and Krishna devotee. I got a lot out of this book, so much so that it makes me want to try and contact the author – but one of his primary things he had a hard time letting go of as he made steps toward became a monk was his judgement of other people.

He addresses it multiple times, but none quite so succinctly as when he states that everything, including success, is a gift from Krishna. As I continue to paraphrase, we are all equal in our undeserving of the gifts Krisha gives us, but it’s through Krishna’s grace and generosity that we receive anything at all – so who are we to question the motives of Krishna if he gives more success to someone we feel is less deserving? Just because that gift was not meant for us does not mean we are of any more value… because we are all nothing, and deserve nothing.

He goes on to say that success, like beauty, expires with time and before long we’re all forgotten.

Then I look around my house and the beautiful things I’ve come to acquire in my life thanks to a good job, usable skills in multiple fields, a beautiful family and a handsome and well-behaved dog, and the means to maintain our lifestyle while having nothing beyond a highschool education – then any passing feeling of jealousy of someone else’s musical success, or luxurious vacations they might be able to afford, or cars they get to drive… all these feeling become so fucking trivial that I feel a sense of shame for feeling them, knowing I should be focused on my own purpose and my own path.

I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been one to sit and stew over someone else’s success, but I can certainly say I’ve peered over the metaphorical fence to see how proverbially green someone else’s figurative grass might be.

Like all of us, I am a work in progress. I will continue to be. But if I can be more focused and grateful for what I have and less concerned that of other people, I’ll be more fruitful. As the since-disgraced Louis C.K. said “the only reason you should ever look into someone else’s bowl is to make sure they have enough – not to see if they got more than you.”

nature boy

I like to run. It fills me up.

I’ve been going for a few years now and it’s brought so much joy into my life – not only to run – but to run outside. At this stage of the game, climate notwithstanding, if I can’t run outside then there’s little point to running at all. So I run outside, even when the weather sucks, and I haven’t run less than 5km this year. Typically I shoot for 10 or more kilometers but there’s been a few 8km loops since that takes me around an hour.

This can take a round of of my legs, meaning I only really get to do it 3 days a week… which makes me want to go even longer. I typically do between 20 & 35km per week and that’s slowly turning into 25-40km.

So, in conjunction with the old half-marathon training program I’ve been revisiting, I’m also revisiting the old triathlon training program… and getting on my bike – again, generally a rain-or-shine outdoor activity. It allows me to destroy the other parts of my legs that running doesn’t kill.

I’ll get back to swimming eventually, too.

The key here, is being outside.
I’m not a fan of running on an indoor track, though I’ll do it. Same goes for stationary bikes. I hate treadmills.

The spiritual connection to nature I feel when I’m pushing myself to exhaustion and delirium while being immersed is addictive. I don’t have to be on the edge of exhaustion to enjoy nature, or to feel that connection, but there’s something magical that happens when you’ve depleted yourself and poured out all of your energy, all of your emotion, all of your sweat, all of your stress and cuss-words and anxiety and frustration until you’re completely empty and ready to be refilled by the hand of God, and just then the hand of God arrives and gives you music and poetry and breath.

I’ve tried my share of man-made things to help me feel this euphoric, but our species just doesn’t have the tech to make this happen without also killing us simultaneously… and our species also can’t beat the price.

Nature is all around us.
Nature is us.
And one of the most short-sighted things we ever did was decide to view ourselves as separate from nature.
If we saw ourselves as the extension of nature that we are, we’d behave much more differently to each other and to our environment.