To live is to be annoyed, I guess. To be disappointed. People will let you down and you let yourself down the most for being let down.
How much better to be blithe and easy going and free.
I’m tense. I’m not usually tense but Im all wound up, balled up like aluminum foil crushed in on myself, like a little star.
I don’t know much about stars. My nephew was reading a popular physics book.
The universe is ever expanding forever. Into what? What holds the Universe? A Universe container. And what contains the container? And why is it always expanding?
There’s a truth. A truth and a good spot always overhead.
There’s a good place. Sometimes if I write and keep writing I can find the good place where something good comes.
I went for a bike ride today. I was working today, most of the day. Kind of a stressful project.
And I finished, and didn’t feel great about it, and went for a bike ride.
It’s Halloween. In my neighborhood they relly make a big deal about Halloween. NYPD comes and White cars sit at the end of the streeet to block the street.
And families come out. Little kids are dressed up. Lots of dinosaurs, superheros, harry potter, princesses, witches, pirates. Teenagers are dressed up, even adults are dressed up.
People are in a good mood. Shuttling kids to and fro, smiling. Cops are waving people by. I see the guns on the belt and feel a little uneasy.
Some houses are more popular than others. People are waiting in line to get into the good houses. The streets are jammed with people.
I have to walk my bike.
Then the street clears and I am able to ride, it’s fine. It’s getting dark so I don’t stay out too long.
I come back, and Robert, the guy who often hangs out in the garage, says the veil is the thinnest between the Spirit world and the material world today, on this day.
I’m a bit dead, nothing’s working to break through, to get me to the good place. The place where good words and ideas come out.
That’s ok. I can be grateful. In AA they taught me to be grateful as a remedy for — pretty much everything (count your blessings).
Sometimes I just thank God for my fingers. I’ll look at each one and bend it and Thank God for it, and it does help. It puts me in a better place.
I had a crisis of confidence today. not sure why but I was looking at video of myself performing and was convincing myself I’m no good.
And I emailed a friend and said “Am I any good?” And he said “You are VERY Good.” True story.
So now, do I believe it, or not?
So many kids and parents. I saw a jellyfish. Someone dressed as a carton of milk. Looking for meaning to break through my crumpled tinfoil heart.
in AA they teach you to pray for the object of your resentment. I did this and I’m feeling better (pray for your enemies).
It’s a really good strategy. It’s hard to be mad at someone if you’re wishing good thing for them.
The fact is, the world is suffused with beauty and meaning. It’s a beautiful rich, glorious, shining world.
I’m impatient. That’s my problem. My writing is good if I treat it with respect and patience. If I don’t want to be doing something else, if I’m not balled up in anxiety.
It’s respectful to breathe, to practice gratitude, to let anxiety dispel, to let the richness of the world in so that you can in turn let it back out.
I’m a control freak. Once I went to a Christian recovery group. I was the only man. THere were women, and they all said they were adiicted to control. That was the first time I had heard that. One of them owned a pie shop. She was a ball of stress. She was learning to relinuish control.
Then the women broke into groups and I had to leave because they were going to share intimately, and being Christians, they paired the women with women and the men with men. And there were no other men. THe leader — the owner of the pie shop — asked me to leave, apologetically.
So I did, feeling a bit sorry for myself. But yeah, i like to be in control. I want to be wanted and I want to have things the way I like them. WHo doesn’t?
It’s beter for me to ask how may I be used. HOw may I be a blessing, how may I be poured out to help someone else.
I just read lyrics to a praise song that said “rid me of myself.” Ha. Good Calvinist praise song, that, but on the other hand, the Bible does talk about killing the old creature and becoming a new creation. That in fact all things will be made new. Are new. Old, becoming new, and already new at the same time.
I’m leaving New York. It’s finally decided. I just remembered going on a date with a former girlfriend, and we were in Corona queens, and there were some people playing Bocce, and we joined them for two games, and they welcomed us in. And then we went and had some ice. What to they call it? Snow cones? Shaved ice? I don’t know. And we walked forever. And it was summertime. I’m going to leave New York, and I’m not going to say goodbye to her, not because we’re not on good terms, but because it would be weird. Or what the hell, maybe I will. I will say goodbye to lots and lots of people.
People say “New York will always be there; you can come back.” They mean come back to live. Because of course I will come back to visit. But probably not to live. I fought so hard to stay here. Every year I fought and scrambled and scratched, until finally it wasn’t hard to stay here anymore.
And now I’m leaving.