Howdy Ya'll from the hot and windy state of Texas. Wait.....what?!?!?!
Yeah, so fuck that. LOL
What's up my family and friends? Just back from vacation, and what a vacation it was. Two weeks driving up the California coast from San Diego to Fort Bragg. A wedding, a castle, an aquarium, a haunted house, a beach house, a good trip, a bad trip, and a great memory. Of course I came back 15 lbs heavier, but never mind all that for the moment...it's all (well mostly) just water. 5 pounds lost in the first night. WOOT!! J/K. But yes, my gustatory orgy is back in the cage and I'm back to the program.
A few things stand out to me from this trip that I'd like to share. Specifically some mental status changes and some ongoing revelations in the world of my journey to happiness. We all can relate to being a kid the night before Christmas. Well most can. Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends out there, and a Happy Festivus to the Rest of Us. Anyway, we want so badly to fall asleep that night because the wonders that we will behold the following morning are a dream, but a tangible one...just out of reach. That's sort of how I'm feeling lately. What I'm learning about myself, and specifically about where I want to "be" spiritually, physically, etc. is that the picture becomes more clear every day I work at it. Whether it's being able to drink a fine beer, or stand in the surf, or having a good trip, or even a bad one. My "reality" is that I can start to see what I want to become and so it casts into sharp contrast all the things that are either impediments to this cause, and those that yank me (uncomfortably at times) toward this sense of self. How the Christmas analogy ties in here is that I can see the tree, and the presents. The stockings hung with care. I know I'll be the first to wake (mostly because mom and dad were up late wrapping presents) and I'll light the fire, and there in my stocking will be a little something to entertain me for those early hours. I can see it all.
And now, in my life, I can see the "goal me". Lean and fit, and my ever quick wit. A writer, a learner, a lover. I see myself in the ocean, or in a boat atop it. Straddling a surfboard while the swell of the sea surges THROUGH me and I become one with it. Driving the 128 in a Ferrari, top down, Alex smiling so big I fear his lips will tear. A fire crackling, waves crashing, and night falling. Some of it is pedestrian, just the simple life incarnate, eyes closed and being one with my own happiness. Others are deep spiritual connections to those around me. The grains of sand, the spray of the ocean in the air, the birds, the future hamachi swimming in the deep, and the crucible of life in the stars. But all these feelings and experiences are me. They are the emanations and resonating waves of who I want to be for the remainder of my days. A man at peace with his life, with his place in this world, and mostly a true sense of fulfillment of the life where every waking moment is a gift.
Sometimes it just takes such a simple experience to shake our foundations, and folks, I had that last week. It has been years, maybe even decades since I really FELT the sea. Yeah, I've been to the beach, and sunk my feet into the surf. I've smelled the salt in the air, and heard the waves crash. But there has been a distance that I didn't realize in all this. Almost like a dream that seems like reality until you actually wake up and have the REAL experience. I was at 10 mile, and I felt an urge...a yearning pulling me into the waves. A vaguely familiar sensation was calling to me, and all I knew was the answer was "out there". So slowly I made my way into the waves. And with each step a chill washed over me. At first it was like the years were being washed away and my soul was being exposed naked to the sea, and then I realized that the "cold" was something far more expansive than my hazy mind. It was my body. And the cold. Was the fucking ocean. Not sure how many of you have waded out nipple deep in those pacific northwest seas with only a thin layer of board short protecting you, but yeah....I'm still waiting for my "parts" to return from hibernation. But I digress, as I often do. As I waded further and further into the surf, the waves morphed from the small splash hazards to the forceful tides pushing from the very depths of the sea. I had to fight them. I could feel the rip tide pulling my feet back out, while the curl slammed into my body, tossing me up with the surge and back down as the wave fell behind me. And yet, with every wave and every surge I grew bolder. Years of separation from the true nature of the sea were like a thick sheet of ice over a lake that with every step I took cracked and weakened. Until finally with a mighty crash I plunged through the ice into the wet beyond. A double wave lifted me and hurled me back toward shore and as my feet gained purchase in the sandy bed, I drove my head back above the water and with a surge of defiance I slashed at the water sending a spray toward the oncoming breakers. Come on ocean. I'm back, bring it. I can take it, let's start the dance again. And there I was, in my teens and early twenties, a young man with his future in front of him lost in the battle with this great and unyielding body.
There, in that moment I was home. And not in the physical sense, although that was a component of it. But I was home in the spiritual sense. My heart surging within my body and within the sea. And the sea surging in and around me. In a spiritual fantasy I could envision myself just pushing further and further into the surf, letting the music of nature grow louder and louder, and the dance careening wildly until at last with all my energy sapped I fell to rest in the bosom of the great pacific. Maybe it would cradle me and deliver me to the sand, or maybe it would devour me. But somehow neither of those two outcomes really speaks to me as "what I want" at least in so far as one would be better. They would just be like two different endings to the same great story. And yes, I just said I have a spiritual fantasy about playing in the ocean until my last breath leaves me and I slip beneath the waves and DIE. And yes, I am okay with that notion. I have a lot of life left in me, but this "fantasy" speaks to me and to how fundamental the ocean is to me, and in some ways how central nature and life is to me.
So when confronted with the "dream" life, much like laying in bed the night before Santa comes, it's way to easy to let the anxiety and urge to get there take root and lose focus. And in all reality I feel like I have come so far along my path to enlightenment that I just want to feel the realization of the journey already. Unfortunately this does add pressure that is counterproductive, but I'm learning to cope with it. I don't have the first idea how long it'll be until I wake up one day and standing in the shower I realize that I've arrived, but in the mean time I'm trying to dig my feet into the sand and push harder into the surf. Bring it on life, bring me the good and the bad and let me feel them flowing around me. Let the relentless surge of life and nature throw me from my feet as if to mock me. Petty human, you aren't in control here. But every time I find my footing, and every time as my head breaks the surface I'll roar back at life. YES I AM!!!!!!!!! I AM IN CONTROL!!!!!!! And while I may not be able to control the tides, nor the ebb and flow of life. I am in control of my part in them. 2011, I stood at the foot of the water and thought letting the ocean lap at my feet was connecting to the ocean, I thought it was connecting to life. 2012 I realize just how wrong I was. So I'm in it baby. Deep. And dammit, I will stand chest deep in all of it. With the trillions of gallons of water, and the billions of years of existence and the lump sum total of all time and place pushing at me. And I'll beg it to knock me off my feet. I'll swing mighty arcs across the surface as if to say "Come on!!!!" Bring on life, because living to me is that moment my feet take hold, and as I burst through the waves I breathe in and turn to face my next challenge, hoping all the while that this one will push me all the harder because I can take it. Finally, I'm ready to face the horizon...and the stars.
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