witnessing growth

So I don’t talk about it much without being intentionally vague… BUT… I have this kid, and in her 16 years on this planet – an occasion celebrated somewhat recently – she’s done all kinds of growing up and maturing. She’s done things or the smart variety and of the dumb variety and has learned from both. Her unique worldview is something that both inspires me and causes me to stop and think, and she’s masterfully funny – the kind of funny that people are when they’ve had real life experience.

Not only has she already accomplished things I may never accomplish, and lived experiences I may never live, but she has dreams and aspirations of being something important and moving away from her hometown to see what the world has to offer her and although I’m in now hurry to shoo her out the door, I am genuinely stoked.

In the grand scheme of things, although she’s several years away form completely cutting off her dependence on me and her mother, she’s mere inches from (legal) adulthood. Other parents I talk to seem to be genuinely worried about this time for their kids – and while in a financial sense I wonder how she’s going to do what needs to get done with late-stage capitalism casting a dark shadow on all of us, I am; again, genuinely stoked.

Her small army of parents have taught her how to think analytically, and aside from the tangible actions of parenting: scraped knees, dental appointments, food & shelter, et al. – that’s the gig. Nobody’s throwing us a parade, and I know the job is far from over but while I talk to so many parents who are worried about their children growing up, all the while, longing for the bygone days of excited christmas mornings and saturday morning cartoons, I have to say I loved those days, but I don’t really miss them… because looking at the road ahead, I am; again, genuinely stoked.

I loved having a little girl at every phase of life, and as this father/daughter relationship continues to grow, I can say I love this phase that we’re in right now more and more all the time.

I am: again, genuinely stoked.

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.

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.