I Don't Know What I Want, But What I Got Ain't It

The title of this post has been running around in my head for several days, not specifically as a blog title, but more a walk-around generally overwhelming feeling in my life. Not sure I can describe it any better than that. Just mostly that I'm not happy and that if  'things' were different, I'd feel better. I get really uncomfortable now when I find myself feeling this way, particularly because this isn't the first time I've had this feeling, and the times before have led to life changes.

These were not necessarily good changes or bad changes, but dramatic changes that have seriously impacted my life and the lives of those around me. Each time I have believed that I could no longer abide whatever situation I was in, be it school, job, career or marriage, and that somehow the change would make me feel better, more satisfied with my lot or happier...whatever that means.

And each time it works out that way, for a while....then each and every time I find myself back at the beginning of the circle, feeling lost and unhappy and on the verge of leaving more wreckage in my wake. Every time the price gets higher. The toll on my health and sanity is greater and the damage to the people I love, and those who love me back, seems immense. I am really tired of hurting others, friends both old and new, and people I have yet to meet.

Every time, I approach the cusp with more knowledge, but alas, quantity of information has never equated to quality of wisdom. This time I am looking through the lens of life lessons garnered the hard way. Five years into a sobriety I never imagined possible from the inside of the bottle, yet found to be more than workable with the help of God and the support of people who believe in me, I struggle with choices that have the potential to put me back on the track to imminent self-destruction.

There comes a point where I must admit that what I am seeking isn't somewhere else. I don't want to spend my days peering into windows and turning over rocks looking for something I can't even describe to myself...trusting that somehow I will recognize what I seek when I see it. A friend who knows I am a seeker once asked me, "What are you looking for?" I couldn't answer then and I can't answer now. Sometimes I feel like my destiny is just that. To forever search, always believing that the answer is just around the next corner, or waiting in the arms of a new lover.

I have looked so many places in my life and time...... into this drug or that, into booze and sex, serious retail therapy, psychotherapy, group therapy, cult therapy, even begged for God to fill my heart and life, but nothing sticks. Relationships that seemed destined to endure have become traps ......a maze of walls built insidiously and insanely, brick by brick, with a mortar that time has cured rock hard.

Now I am afraid I will step on board the express train to the next destination, turn, and suddenly realize as I am carried away, that whatever it was I was looking for is standing on the platform with a tear in its eye, waving goodbye. I need some serious guitar time.

Strange Dream

Last night I had the most vivid and strangest dream that I can recall.

I usually do not share my dreams because I so often don't remember them, and I usually don't like the interpretations that others assign to them...anyway for what it is worth, here it is:

I had driven to an office and was waiting in the waiting room. I was given a large manila envelope, which I was to deliver to someone. I drove to either a car dealership or the offices of a home builder/contractor where I delivered my envelope, and was given another, fatter one to return.

I drove back to the original place, and delivered the second envelope, then I was given a third envelope to deliver to yet another location, but on the outside of that envelope, there were instructions which said I wasn't to deliver it until tomorrow.

 As I was waiting in the waiting room, I watched the people who were coming and going. At one point, a door to an inner office opened and out walked a beautiful woman. She looked a little disheveled and rumpled, as though she had just been making love to someone. As she walked out I could see inside, and there was an attractive man sitting in a chair. He also looked as though he had been fooling around. They seemed like they fit together.

People were coming and going, with more going outside than coming in. I walked out and was standing at the edge of a large field of green grass. On the far side, I saw many of the people that I had seen in the office. They appeared to be playing a game or exercising, but in a most unorganized manner. One person would do something, like jump up and down or run a bit, and several people would follow those moves, then one of the followers would do something different and several people would follow that person. The net effect was that everyone was getting some exercise, but in a highly disorganized way, except that there seemed to be rules that everyone understood.

It looked like fun, and I figured I could use the exercise, so I joined in. I followed for a while, and then I began to do my own thing. I was spinning around, but I had metal weights in each hand. The weights had edges sharp enough to hurt someone if they got too close, and I was careful to stay away from anyone I might injure.

I stopped spinning, and discovered that I had the ability to lean at impossible angles. I could lean back, with my heels touching the ground, my body straight and the back of my head only inches from the ground. Someone came over and asked me how I could do that. I explained that it was easy, that anyone could do it if they just put their mind to it.

I also told them that by concentrating, I could leap into the air and stay up an incredibly long time. To demonstrate, I leapt across the field, and just floated in slow motion, defying gravity. The field transformed into a very large empty room, like a gym with high ceilings. I was able to fly through the room, above the heads of the other people. I wanted to encourage them to fly too, but I was so amazed at being able to fly, I was speechless.

I awakened briefly, and when I fell asleep again, I was in an operating room where an abortion was being performed. The doctor removed the child from inside the mother, still attached by the umbilical cord. This was not a fetus, but a very small baby. The child's eyes were open and from where I was standing, I could see one blue eye. The doctor prepared to cut the cord with a pair of shears. I wanted to cry out 'Stop!', but I couldn't. Then, with a single snip. it was done. I was sad.

Wanna Play?

A friend recently asked me a question. Am I competitive? Well? I answered the question but continued to think about it. I’m kinda funny. When someone asks me a question and wants to know my opinion, I need some time. Oh, I can always spout something immediately, but I need time to process before I can give a really accurate response. That delay itself can and has created misunderstandings and uncomfortable situations in the past.

So? Am I competitive? Well it means more than one thing doesn't it? In some contexts, being competitive means you actually have the capacity to succeed or win the race or sell your product at the same or lower price or offer more advantage than someone else.

But I think the question this time was along the lines of plumbing the depths my desire to win or finding out just how important coming in first is to me.

I have never been a professional athlete, but I have played various sports in a competitive environment. Sometimes I was more than aware that I was not ‘competitive’ in the first sense, but that did not diminish my desire to do my best. I did well in several activities, bowling and ping-pong to name two, and closing a game rolling a ‘Turkey’ in the tenth frame generated a fist pump and high five along with an adrenaline surge which could just as well fuel an internal ‘Primal Scream’ when a well placed slam kisses the very corner of the table and slides past a hopelessly out-maneuvered opponent. 

I love to play card games and board games, and of course those are all set up in a win/lose format. I prefer to win, and if my opponent loses with an entertaining demonstration, so much the better. That being said, I enjoy playing for the sake of the game and camaraderie….the wins and losses seem to even out, and it really doesn’t matter, anyway, Right? Whoops...except in chess.....  ;-)

When I was a younger person, I recall feeling that my ‘worth’ was somehow tied to being the winner, and felt bad if I didn’t finish first. But don’t we get set up for that? Those of us who know the agony of being chosen last when sides are picked are well aware of the perceived value of being competitive. And the incredibly ridiculous salary that so many professionals bring home is evidence of the truth in that.

These days, I compete mostly against me. I tell myself it is for personal growth and self-improvement, but I’m really taking inventory, looking for signs of physical or mental decay, and at my age, finding such is all but inevitable.

I don’t like winning at someone elses’ expense, but how would I feel if the competition was for food or shelter for my family, and my ability to ‘win’ was a matter of life or death for them? I might find I was a much different cat.

Bottom line? Bring it on. Let’s dance….:-)

Firsts and Lasts

Getting in the shower last night (and doesn’t a shower in the evening feel great, specially if you are going to climb in between clean sheets!) I began thinking about 'firsts' and 'lasts.'

When we begin life, our world is full of 'firsts' and we aren’t even aware of many on them. Our first words, first steps are things someone else remembers well, but we ourselves, not so much. Other things we not only remember but perhaps anticipated….the first day of school, or the first time we were able to tie our own shoes.

Then came the bigger events we really anticipated with varying degrees of joy/dread. First date, first period, first car, first job, not necessarily in that order…graduating from high school or going off to college, getting married, having kids of our own. Most of these we saw coming, often long before they actually arrived with time to prepare. Others, like our first speeding ticket or first auto accident we didn’t see coming at all…though others may have known it was only a matter of time.

The last time things from those years ended in one of several ways. Some may have ended quietly, almost unnoticed like the last time we used a sippy cup. Others with great fanfare, like graduating from diapers to big boy pants, tho perhaps if we live long enough we learn we don’t really stop using them we just pause for a while. Some early 'lasts' may come with tears. Parting with the blankie can be tough.

What seems to get past us are the last times we don’t notice at the time. As I get older 'firsts' are farther apart and 'lasts' are much more frequent. Sometimes we do something, then don’t do that same for a while then realize that for some reason we can’t do it again. Opportunity, ability, health or situation..all can change and spell the end of this or that.

The last time I went skiing, it never occurred to me that I was saying goodbye to that thrill as I drove down the mountain. The last time I flew an aircraft, I never dreamed that I wouldn’t be back at the controls. The last time we drive ourselves or the last time we make love, we usually don’t realize that that was it.  When we finally figure it out, it's too late.

Sometimes it is the last time we speak with a friend, and sometimes we wish that if we had only known, we’d have done it differently. But we who have been there and done that…we know, and hopefully leave no regrets…..

Bus Rustler

This tale bubbled up from the depths of the swamp that used to be my mind on the way to work this morning, and I don’t have the good sense to keep it to myself.

Several years ago, I traveled to Denver on a business trip. I flew in on Saturday to have a free day to explore, which I dearly love to do. I decided Saturday evening that I would like to go to church the next morning. I was scheduled to use a company vehicle during my stay, but I wouldn’t be able to get access until Monday. This meant I was dependent on public transportation.

So I have three problems to solve, find a church, locate the church and get to the church on time.

Being a relative stranger to the area, this was a bit more difficult than it appeared. I had to know where I was, where the church was, and how I could integrate those locations with the availability of the city bus. Now, realize that this tale predates Google Earth, or at least my ability to use it. So…to the phone book. I was looking for a Lutheran church, and an ELCA Lutheran church at that. The phone book listed several, with their addresses, but being a stranger, I had NO CLUE where they were, or which one was closest. I did have a paper map…yeah, yeah I know, you didn’t realize this was pre-history.

Anyway, I determined that St. Marks on Del Mar Circle was the closest, and that there was a bus that would pick me up within a block of my hotel and take me to Del Mar Circle. Whoo Hooo. I’m set.

Armed with my trusty paper map, a paperback book and a bottle of water, I set out to go to church. The bus comes by, right on schedule, and except for the driver, I have the entire bus to myself…kinda like a giant limo. I sit up front and chat with the driver for the half hour it takes to get to Del Mar Circle.

Now, I know the address of the church, but the circle thing throws me. Del Mar Circle is about ¾ mile in diameter, and there are six churches scattered along its circumference. The driver has NO CLUE which church might be St. Mark’s either. I gamble and hop off in the midst of a cluster of three churches, and of course none of them is the church I am looking for.

Now, if you do the math, ¾ times pi equals about 2 1/3 miles, so St Marks could be just over a mile away, at the most, if I go the right way. Crap shoot. I pick a direction and begin to walk. In less than a minute, a car stops beside me. The driver, a woman, rolls down the window and asks me for directions. Her luck is obviously on par with mine. The person she chooses to ask for directions is a total stranger not only to this part of town, but to the whole damned state! No, wait. Her luck is better than mine because she happened to pick a fella with a city map in his back pocket. We figure out her dilemma, she goes on her way, and I resume work on mine.

Turns out my luck is good and bad. The bad news: St. Marks is exactly opposite the place where I got off the bus. Couldn’t be any farther away….but….the good news is it didn’t matter which direction I walked……

I get to the church about 10 minutes before the service begins, I go inside and sit down. Here is where the fun begins. Lutherans are just like other folks, but more so. By that I mean everyone always sits in the same place every Sunday. When I picked a seat, I was displacing somebody. So they had to sit somewhere else and that created ripples throughout the sanctuary. Couple that with the fact that I was a stranger……well I felt like the hole in the doughnut. There was clear space all around me. Maybe this is how it is supposed to be…makes it easier for the Pastor to spot Newbies. Which he did. He stopped by to greet me, and also pointed me out during the service…like nobody had noticed the stranger in their midst.

The service ran a bit long, and I didn’t hang out for coffee because I had a bus to catch. Got to the bus stop and checked the schedule. Crap. According to the schedule, the bus had come by 10 minutes before. Sigh.

I sat down, took out my book and began to read. Lo and Behold, the bus drives up and stops for me! I get on board and see a rather harried looking woman driving the bus with a piece of white paper in her hand which she seem to be referring to every couple of blocks. As I often do, I strike a conversation with her. She is a brand new driver and has never driven this route before. She is following a hastily scribbled turn by turn description of the route and becoming more and more confused by the minute. That’s why the bus is late…works for me! I, of course am a total expert, because I just came from where we are headed. I assume the navigation chores…sort of an unpaid civilian adviser to the Denver Transportation  Department.

I now realize I missed a great opportunity to take that bus all over the city, but I wanted to get back to my room to watch the game. In retrospect…it would have been fun, but I didn’t want to find out what the City of Denver does to Bus Rustlers.

TED

I've known about TED talks for a while now, a number of years, actually, but I never took more than a casual interest in them. If a link took me to a YouTube video of  a TED talk, and if the subject interested me, I'd watch, but that was the extent of my involvement.

Over the last several weeks, a job function has tied me to my desk, but it has not required much of my mental faculties. I used the time to stream a number of TED talks.

If you are unfamiliar, TED stands for Technology, Entertainment and Design (a thorough history is available on Wikipedia), and currently consists of around 2000 recorded lectures on an incredibly diverse range of subjects.

It is amazing to explorer the breadth of subject matter addressed here. I found lectures which inspired, lectures which surprised me, and more than a few which frightened me. But the overarching theme that meant the most to me is the proof within these talks that our younger generation is producing some incredible minds which are doing some incredible thinking, asking questions and finding answers that are so far outside the box that........well, the promise for the future is bright indeed.

If you are ready to be enlightened on your own schedule, visit TED.com.

A Good Day

Something happened that I wasn't expecting.

To be sure, it was something I wanted, but I was not so bold as to expect it.

It wasn't even planned. It just happened.

It started and grew in a natural and positive way, and as all really good things do, it ended too quickly.

But if anyone ever asks about that particular day, I will tell them that I finished the day with a wonderful memory......and eleven cents. :-)