On the Other Hand

Call it ying & yang, woof & wharf, dark & light or simply balance. It does seem that all things trend back to the center over the long term. The only question is how patient can we be when seemingly at the other end of the happiness continuum? But metaphysics is not my topic today, rather synchronicity.

I have been searching for the answer to a particular question a good friend had recently posed to me. Suddenly with an ever so quiet eureka! it came to me. Like so many "answers" it was informationally correct but implementally incomplete. I knew what to do but I did not have the means to complete the task. The following day, she called to tell me about a message she had received from another friend who told her exactly where to find what I had been seeking for her. He has no clue we were looking; she was unaware of my answer without an answer. It all just fell into place--synchronous.

Then another friend offers me the second draft of his novel to read. Here I find not only a needed aspect for my own writing but a story that deeply parallels my own. Reinforcement is a powerful motivator. Knowing others are wandering on the same mountain as you, even though their path be different.

A good antidote to yesterday's thoughts. May all creatures be happy.

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In-attentive-ness

As I have said before in this space, one of the clarion calls of my existence is the phrase: pay attention. Notice it is not written Pay Attention! nor Pay Attention! or even Pay Attention!!! I simply and quietly attempt in my life to attend to those thoughts, words and actions that present themselves to me during the course of my day. In particular, I try very hard to practice close attention when I am speaking with someone I like, love and/or treasure.

I do admit that some part of this attending fervor of mine is a learned behavior from my years of training as a psychologist. But clinical techniques are really not necessary in the ordinary course of going about one's life; what is required is a desire and a commitment to really paying attention to what is presented in hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, touching and other.

One of my current writing projects is thematically all about this topic, the plot and story build on attending to the tiniest of motes of action and information that pass before the eyes, ears and heart of my protagonist. Think of the word "attend" not in the sense of attending a performance but of attending to a person. Being in service to them, to look after, to minister to. The exact oppose of ignoring or dismissing. This is the quality I am speaking of and fostering moment-to-moment in my interaction with others.

Which brings me to an observation about the variety of my acquaintances. Once again I refer to my recently ended journey on which I saw and interacted with so many friends both old and new. Now I am back in the Bay Area and once again in the midst of my academic cohorts. I noticed in my travels that while my friends were busy with their full and active lives, they had time or we could make time for intense, meaningful, in-depth conversation and friendship. If I attended to them, they were able to reciprocate, even if generally speaking such interactions were not the norm in their everyday life.

Sure most of the human contacts in my life have college educations. There are many big brains outside of my academic tribe and many more big hearts. What surprises me then, is that within the large cerebrum, fully lettered gaggle of friends there are several examples of gross non-attending. I don't just mean the stereotypical absent-minded professor. I mean fully functioning, highly educated, well-meaning friends, who just don't have a clue. They seem to talk the talk and grok the written word, but in action they simply fail. They either will not or cannot pay attention to what so many of us find important. Ideas and feelings they give lip service to, seem not to actually be of any significance in the day-to-day conduct of our friendship.

What I feel about these friendships is sadness. What I hope to communicate to them is simply nothing because I know none of these individuals will ever read this blog. To those who do, let's have lunch, I have something wonderful to tell you.

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Writing for an Audience or Something Like That

Writing gives you the illusion of control, and then you realize it's just an illusion, that people are going to bring their own stuff into it. -- David Sedarus

This has been an interesting week for communication and failure to communicate. I have shared my writing with several individuals and found that where I was going with a piece or a scene was not necessarily where my reader found themselves.

One wonders, I wonder, how much of my stories are going to be transmitted as they are in my brain and how much will just be fodder for the fantasies and mindscape of a reader. For instance, I told three people the same story with four parts. I was clear that the writing was true but not accurate. This literary genre being variously called: non-fiction fiction, nearly fiction, or the old artistic license. As Mark Twain is said to have said:

The difference between fiction and non-fiction is that fiction must be absolutely believable.

So I told the four part story to the three people and each found some part believable as fact or at least non-fiction. However, each listener found different combinations of fiction versus non-fiction in the elements of my tale. Apparently we decide which is right and which is an illusion.

Which leads me to another strange discovery on the subject of the written word. Being back in a stable environment, meaning I am going to be here for a time measured in months not days, perhaps even years not months. Being in such a place, I have launched myself onto an internet dating site or two. On one of these I use "Poker Shrink" as my screen name. One member of the female variety actually found a way to make Poker Shrink obscene. Yes, there actually is an X-rated interpretation of that moniker. A large dill pickle if you get it; don't try too hard she was a really inventive ....... character.

So the moral of this pondering -- Don't be careful what you write, it's all going to be interpreted completely differently by whomever reads it anyway. Speaking of which, you know a good plastic surgeon could fix that.

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A Different Sunday

While today is Super Sunday for many of you, for myself and a small gathering of my close friends here in San Francisco, the celebration will be of a different nature. Thank all you facebookers and calendar keepers for noticing and particular thanks to Sir Paul for the wishes.

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A Cleat in Time

There comes a time in every man's life and I've had many of them.

-- Casey Stengel

I am not a big resolution person. I don't make dramatic changes in my life or lifestyle. 'A line in the sand' always seemed a fairly impermanent metaphor for taking any sort of critical moral stand. Minor tweaks or slight course corrections seem to work better for my phlegmatic demeanor.

However, I have had friends argue that the above analysis flies in the face of certain realities, not the least of which are my fairly frequent employment changes and my fluid homestead history. Add to that I have just added a six month undomiciled meander to my life record.

Pondering this last evening while meditating in a damp San Francisco garden, I was reminded of a dream I had during what passes for a life crisis in my world. This was back in the mid 90's. The dream involved a sailing metaphor. For the sailors in the audience, I am not one. I am not a boater of any sort, so I do not know from whence this imagery arose, but it did.

I felt at that time that I had spent a number of years a bit adrift. I had a job and several serial relationships but there really was no direction in my life. I wasn't headed anywhere in particular. In the dream I was alone on a single masted sailboat with the large sail untrimmed and lolling in the wind. I caste a single line out to a cleat. I felt as if I got just a bit of trim into the sail I could or would begin to navigate the course of my life, instead of skimming around the surface at the behest of whatever wind might blow. Now mind you, these "winds" were providing me with a fairly interesting life at that time but a bit too directionless.

So, feeling directionless again are we? Well, no. I have learned how to use those life lines and cosmic cleats to bring some dynamic tension into my life. The sense of purpose that I consciously laid aside during the last year, while I traveled about the country is slowing rising. I am already lining up both the mundane and the creative endeavors for the next several months. The lanyard is in hand and thankfully the youthful desire to grip and tug mightily is well suppressed.

Watch your head, we're coming about.

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Many Thanks Along the Way

I have just spent eight months on the road and most of that time I was not staying in hotels or motels but in the homes of many good friends. I want to sincerely thank every one of you for opening your doors, yours hearts and your homes to my vagabond ways. I enjoyed the variety of experiences at each and every stop and would not hesitate to encumber you with my presence again in the future.

Particular thanks to Randy, Gary and Cyndy, Bill and Kathy, Dan and Sue for not only inviting me to stay but also having the extreme good manners to pack up and leave. The only thing better than good friends would be good friends who offer you the shelter of their home and then go away.

Celebratory thanks are also in order to Pat, Bob and Holly, Jim and Mary Grace for timing their parties to coincide with my visits. The many meals at all stops were just too scruptious to mention but Bill, Pat, Mary Grace and Eric will be remembered for their culinary skills. Also the caterers in Virginia, the grill in Weed and the barbeque at Salt Lick in Austin.

To those who opened their homes for weeks at a stretch, I am gratefully indebited. To those I was only able to share a meal and a conversation, you too. The briefest of stops in the strangest of locations were like beacons into our past.

I learned the intricacies of the DVR at many different stops along the way. I became a fair to average Wii disc golf player and I observed various examples of Ipod, Bluetooth and other new techno devices both enthralling and frustrating their new owners. I even acquired my very first GPS to find my way from doorstep to doorstep. In all cases, I can honestly say to every one including myself: RTFM!

Thanks to David and Kim for opening their spare room on short notice. To all my old college friends in Kalamazoo, was great to see you, wish we had more time to talk. To the several dozen 'friends of friends' I met on my travels, twas nice to make your acquaintance, except for that one crazy woman in Florida. To those I saw but did not homestead with, was good to catch up and to those I missed along the way - I am not done traveling just yet.

Special thanks to the PokerBoyz for all the laughs in Biloxi, when are we doing that again? I would point out for the Boyz that I remain the only member to have met Becky, Rachel and Eric or to have seen and visited all but one of the PokerBoyz home turfs.

I would be remiss without sending cyber scritches to Midnight, Rascal, Matisse, Tigerr, Cat, Duffy, Jerome, Abra, Edmund, Crattchet, Blackie, Java and nuzzlin' my keyboard as I write this - Vlad.

What did I learn on this adventure? Well part of it I hope you will be reading in the book/story I am writing roughly based on the geography, if not the actuality, of the trip. Second, I came to realize on a much deeper level why people refer to me as their friend. I want each and every one of you to know that I value whatever interaction we had, I am humbled that you consider me that type of friend and you have more than repaid me with your friendship and camaraderie. Each and every one.

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Six Months of One, Half a Year of Another

It's a real, live, exact, calendariacly significant day. I officially began my trip on July 31st last year, I even blogged about it. That's the "when" of the story. Back then I imagined I would be extending my undomiciled existence for "five months or longer", well as of an hour ago I am back in the Bay Area (Oakland to be exact) and since this is where I will be staying for some unforeseeable time into the future, I guess it is time to declare the wandering aspect of this journey to be complete. There is still more to write, both here and in one of several stories I am working on. But for now the "Where Am I?" updates can abate. In the next couple of weeks I will be settling into an apartment in Berkeley and perhaps even clearing out my storage closet, perhaps.

A recap and acknowledgement of the trip will follow later this week. A full six months on the road has provided me with lots of writing juice and has made me much more aware of who and where I am in this newbie of a decade. For now --- I am as home as I can geographically imagine at this point on my personal segment of the time-space continuum.

Looking forward to who & what's next and reflecting on where I have just been. and, of course, there is . . . why?

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