Not a Fireman

So what do I want to be when I grow up? The questions was posed in a comic strip by a working mother who looked around at the mess of her life and replied, "Not this."

I agree. Not this. On so many levels. But I'm stuck at a limiting step. I will not, can not, progress until I make one critical decision.

I'm sitting at a fork in the road, hearing stories about the wonders down each path. All the great possibilities ahead. But I can't make that one choice which will release me to motion. To action. To commitment. To being.

I cannot be, until I am.

A Cold Toast to Warm Beer

Slush.

Snow.

Ice.

Cold.

Clouds.

Yeah, that kind of day

Then on to an hour and a half of boring and stressful paperwork at home.

At 10:30 I'm finally ready for my nightcap. From the best breadman in 6 counties, a dill seasoned roll, split in two, toasted, and topped with brie. Oh yeah.

And! My son brought home a six pack of a Great Lakes Amber Lager. The boy has good taste.

So, hot toast, melting brie, cold beer, Las Vegas on da tube, I'm good for the night.

Except. I stopped in my son's room with a routine question, and got instead a Dad's dream conversation. He asked me about the date he was planning. Is the restaurant okay? The chick flick cause it's romantic, or the thriller because his date wants to see it too? What to do if they have extra time? Yeah, he was asking questions, and listening to the answers.

Twenty minutes later, I went back to cold toast, rubbery cheese, and warm beer. And enjoyed every bit of it.

Backyard Fantasy World

A magical world. Another place. Cliches, it's true, but true they are.

My snow-covered backyard in the light of the full moon. Is it eerie? Not really. It is cold, but not so much. But this other-worldy blue light that oozes everywhere is hypnotic. I can stand in the midnight shadow of the Sideways Tree (yes in the shadow, at midnight) and I'm not myself. It's not my backyard. I can be where I want to. More important, I can be who I want to. Anything is possible. Why?

Can I carry within myself an atmosphere, an aura all my own that puts me in a reality where I can be whatever I want? Well, why not?

I didn't think of the moon as blue, just the air. And not blue like sad. Not blue like cold. Just blue like - um - ice? neon?

Am I Blue?

Depression can be cured by lifestyle change? Wow, who knew? Well, me and probably half the people with "depression."

Seems 'they' have discovered that maybe 35% of sufferers are cured by medication. Not cured actually, but short-term relieved. Maybe 25% are equally well treated by placebos. Hmm.

Maybe being doggedly unhappy about your life situation, the refusal to pretend it's okay, and an unwillingness to settle isn't depression. Maybe it's optimism. Conviction that this is not as good as it gets. Faith that I will acheive some measure of happiness as I find the right place in my life.

Being sad is not depression. Being sad may just be a prelude to happiness.

Rain Sonata

So I sit in my little heaven
Screen all around and wine at hand
I watch and I listen to my deliverance
The quiet sonata of afternoon rain

Tasks that howled loud lay deflated and lost
The hour is mine, with no obligation
The music is free, a one time performance
The quiet sonata of afternoon rain

Lost

If there is a path for your life and you fail to find it,

If there is a song and you never sing it,

If there is a someone that you're born to be,

A someone this world never sees,

Doesn't it follow, isn't it clear,

You'll always feel like a no one.

The Who You Are

The life you live
Is what you get
And who you are
And where you are

Or...

The life you live
Today is not
Who you are
Tomorrow

Or...

Who you are
Inside your head
Is what you live
Today

Or...

Who you choose
To be today
Inside your head
Is you, tomorrow