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.

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.

going without

I feel like everywhere I look, I see positive & negative reports of intermittent fasting. It’s been like that for some time in my feed, and i know a bunch of people doing it. It never really appealed to me for a couple of reasons, such as:
– I am a food addict.
– People seem to do it to lose weight, and it seems like a odd way to try and lose weight from my purview, especially since I’ve never personally witnessed anyone lose any noticeable amount of weight doing it.
– Intermittent fasting implements the notion of eating during a specific window of time everyday, which is fine, but that’s not what the term intermittent actually means.
– As someone with a rough relationship with food, it seems like a fantastic way to mask an eating disorder.
– It’s a fad

For someone who keeps his personal health at the center of most decisions, the proposed health benefits never really made me want to try it… (and there ARE health benefits, I’m just not certain that weightloss is one of them).

Nonetheless, my girlfriend and I have been trying it on in the most entry-level way. For the time being we’ve adopted a 12-hour eating window followed by a 12-hour fasting window (much of which we’re asleep for). Immediately we’ve noticed an increase in the quality of sleep we’re getting, and with an eating window that closes at 5:30pm, evening snacking is off-limits. Often that 12-hour fast gets stretched to 13 or 14 hours, which is great. Breaking fast at 6am and following it with a long run (60-90 minutes or more) or a strenuous workout nets a greater sense of accomplishment and satisfaction with my efforts.

However; these benefits are not the cause of my curiosity so much as they are an added bonus.

No, the reason fasting appeals to me is completely spiritual. The yogis, the gurus, the krishnas, the muslims, the hunger-strikers, and Jesus himself all fasted in a state of meditation and prayer, as a show of strength and sacrifice to a higher power and were ultimately cosmically rewarded, perhaps even victorious in one way or another. This action seems to put me in better contact with the universe, with my environment as a part of nature, and in harmony with the various beings that I cohabitate with on this planet.

There’s a lot of science for & against fasting for numerous reasons, and usually I like to have the science to back up a decision. It sure came in handy when I started running long distances, when I became vegan, and a number of other decisions I’ve made – but I have to say that in this instance, the scientific discussion has little bearing on my desire to do it.

Again, my efforts so far have been small, but I can’t help but wonder what a 36-hour water-only fast might look like – what wonderful music I might create or words I may channel.

Maybe I’ll see God.
Maybe I’ll sleep a lot.
Either way, I’ll experience something I’ve never experienced before – maybe even something that nobody’s ever experienced before, and my life will be richer for the experience.

My life is richer for every experience.

in the wilderness

Last week I talked a little bit about purpose, and walking my path with purpose, and as I develop that thought further I know that in the past, I’ve followed my path through life a little more closely. I got shaken off my narrow path by a few things and got lost in the bush… but I’m working my way back.

Leaving my path was reactionary. At first anyway. Some punches got dealt to my family that we had to roll with, into uncharted territory. I’m (still) not going to get into it in great detail because the stories aren’t mine to tell, but ultimately we did the best with what we had at the time.

After that, I joined a 12-step group for overeaters anonymous. I can honestly say I tried it with all the energy I had to spare at the time and although the merits of the recovery communities are widely lauded by many (including me) I have since concluded that the group I was in was not for me. I learned that the way I’m wired is a little different, and what really resonates with me is moving forward. I’m not sure if it’s the group I was in, or if all groups are like this – but constantly living in the downtrodden stories of relapse and regret did not help me to endear or relate to anyone so much as it slowed my progress.

It was also the first time I’d ever heard the term “exercise bulimic” before, and although you could probably paint me with that brush to some extent, I maintain a level of safety and awareness in my fitness regimen that excludes me from that. Furthermore, if I have in fact transfered my addiction to something positive and helpful, and for the matter, manageable… and rather than compulsively drinking my face off, I compulsively work to enhance my diet and overall health… well, I guess I fail to see the problem.

Regardless, my point was that the group of spiritually like-minded people I was spending time with did not help me on my path so much as they pulled me onto a different one.

So now I’m working my way back.
How?
Well…

One of the things I used to never be able to do was “trust my gut.” My gut was sick and full of garbage most of the time. “Following my heart” was equally trepidatious, as my heart wasn’t in any condition to lead me anywhere… which left me with my brain – the organ solely responsible for overthinking, that had also been pushed to its limit in multiple ways.
… Not a great situation.

Since getting my health on track, my gut and my heart have been a lot more trustworthy, and work well in tandem with my brain – so when I hear or see something that speaks to me, I am ready to listen and willing to implement change where needed. This, for lack of any other appropriate term, is how I hear the voice of God. It comes to me through compelling conversations with friends, through podcasts, through autobiographical books, religious texts, song lyrics, stories from friends and strangers… and I am usually in a physical state of being able to receive the voice of God, because I am sober and nourished (though there are other factors, such as environment and frame of mind to consider.)

From there, I have to trust my three brains – the head, the heart, and the gut – to allow certain pieces of information to resonate.

Could I be led astray again? Absolutely. There are salesmen everywhere.
Will I allow that to deter me from trying to expand my consciousness? No. I hope I never do. I’ll strive to sit somewhere between skeptical and naive.

My path is taking me somewhere. I can’t stop here.


So I probably said a bunch of words people don’t like to think about much. “God” and “sober” are likely a couple of them. All I can say is, please try not to let singular words get in the way of the message. I’m not a religious zealot and I don’t aspire to be one, nor am I here to judge people for their habits around drinking or substance use.

This is just a blog. But if it speaks to you then I hope you’re ready to receive whatever message you got.