Monday, April 27, 2015

Shuffling Along

I tend to have trouble understanding that I have a long life ahead of me. It's nothing prophetic like “I don’t think I’ll live much longer”, nothing morbid like that. It's just that I think about life a lot...a life, my life, what do I want to do with my life? where am I going in my life? what is the purpose of my Life? etc... 99% of the time I'm only ever thinking about birth all the way up to now and maybe forward a few months. Any span of time beyond a few months forward all looks like mist which grows denser until I can see nothing at all. This view of life feels, well, very short-sighted. 

It is a rare and relieving thing when I finally remember that so much of my life is a very long way away. It isn’t over yet and I haven’t wasted it. I have many more places to go and purposes to fulfill. Remembering my long life ahead of me is wonderful but rare, so most of the time I live shuffling along, only looking a few feet ahead of me.

In this way I move relatively slowly through the years. Or more accurately, the years move relatively slowly passed me. They have been respectful, bringing with them only a few sudden movements and unforeseen glitches. Any great heartache usually comes with its own numbing balm to soothe me. It's baffling: I am almost unaware that any time has passed me at all, save for the changing of the seasons and the date in my journal. I journal and I date the pages. Those incremental changes leave me awed for a few moments but not much more.

...Until I’m struck again by those relieving moments and I remember that - or realize that - perhaps, I have been seeing time backwards.

Yes, that's right - backwards. Why do I have to see time as a thing that has happened to me? It is better, I think, see it as a thing into which I advance - a thing, unto which, I happen. I am the thing that happens to Time. Isn’t that a wonder? How lucky Time is that I bestow myself unto it, allow it to receive me and cushion me through my days. And O! What a loyal companion is Time! 

That is actually how I talk in my head.

I have a girlfriend. This woman for whom no title seems to completely encompass. I love her so much, but she is not long enough nor even deep enough for “girlfriend”. Not simple or manipulatable enough for “my girl”. I can’t call her “partner” or even “sweetheart” comfortablyWe lack the past time.

And yet some of me, some heartbreaking part of me that I can barely see or have ever seen (I think this is the part that dreams only forward) loves her the most, with all of its little being. For the sake of this dear part of me, who has always struggled for its share of the sunlight (and who perks up when I talk about hope), I am calling this woman “my future”. I hope to find the balance of it soon and walk with my eyes on the horizon, a little less afraid.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015


I've been dating someone for a few weeks now. Despite my impulses to push away from all the good she is bringing to my life, I've kept myself in the game and actually managed to stay surprisingly present in the relationship. Impulses, man, they're a devilish thing. Neither good nor bad, they only exist to change the speed and direction in which we're traveling. For example, I can impulsively buy a pair of beautiful shoes and be happier and poorer for it, or I can impulsively punch a guy in the face and be happier and jailed for it. Impulse - neutral, merely a thought; action - completely in my control. So when this girl told me she's selling her car soon and I suggested a road trip - we rather impulsively decided the ideal destination for a one day/one night mini-vacay on the third week of knowing each other was Canada. NYC to Montreal. 6.5 hours drive. 372 miles. Haven't met her cat yet. Totally doable.

And then we diverged considerably. She's a go-with-the-flow who didn't book our Airbnb until the night before and (to my knowledge) didn't second guess this idea for a even a minute. I, on the other hand, said "yes" and then immediately began worrying about gas prices, food prices, could I make it back in time for work?, was it smart to put 750 miles on her car before selling it?, do I like her enough to give her my Montreal virginity?, what if we spend the ride up in complete silence then have to survive all of Canada together and then the miserable drive back down and what if it was just all a waste of time, energy, and money????!

"GAAAAAAAH! I feel like my mind is going to explode!"

I wrote that bit of poetry last week. (Right after I posted the entry about boredom, go figure.) Because despite appearances, despite all my doubts, and the highly refined mental flip flopping I put her though, I was actually really fucking excited for this adventure. OOOOOOH, CAAAANNAADDAAAA!

Many years ago an acting teacher of mine taught me that nervousness and excitement are practically the same thing. Same feelings of hope and fear, anticipation, disbelief, hesitancy, levels of mischievousness, varying degrees of anger, frustration, and determination, growing amounts of joy and doubt, and hopefully, eventually feelings of expansion, trust, and taking big, big breaths. The difference is that nervousness harbors a constant buzz of dread right beneath the surface. Excitement fills that dread-space with the buzz of curiosity and the assurance that everything is going to be alright. Switching from one to the other requires only that we smile and remember a road trip ain't the end of the world, and that excitement feels so much better.

We got to Montreal and had one of the most romantic date nights I've ever had. It was cold as hell, we ate cheese and foi gras with the locals and got really tipsy, our Airbnb was adorable, no one cared that we were two women cuddled up at the bar or that my passport was expired. We laughed through the whole drive and listened to Joni Mitchell and Justin Timberlake and we had only one extremely close run in with an empty gas tank. Our road trip couldn't have been born on a better impulse.

2015 is here and I've asked you for your New Year's Resolutions. I hope they're as thought provoking for you as they have been for me...

Learn to relax more. Say yes to invitations. Cherish my loved ones actively with more involvement. Continue the process of learning not to take things personally. Finish my screenplay!  
Let go of what does not serve me, keep on cultivating love in my life, listen and follow my intuition  
I've led a happy, incredibly fortunate life - taking each day as it comes - and counting my blessings. I have no Resolutions. I'm never going to be a size 8 - until ager I die with wither away - I'm never going to be a lawyer, pleading a case in front of the Supreme Court, and I'm never going to be an astronaut. Yes, I did have dreams along those lines at one time. But reality is, well, reality. I can only hope that 2015 brings good health for me and my loved ones. 
Abandoned all regard for 'political correctness'... not that I actually ever had any in the first place  
Recommit to health and exercise after the Holiday Excess, like last year  
Pick up heavier things.    
600+ pound deadlift 
I have given up on "resolutions"! I hope that this year I will focus my energy on my own health and wellbeing. Making changes in my life to better support my emotional/mental/physical health as I do deserve to take care of myself 
Pay more attention to my health: eat less processed foods and improve fitness. Stay out of the spiral of gossip and backbiting that can make my job miserable, esp since it is a job that I love. Be present.  
Please God...I need patience, lots and lots of patience...I guess I have to learn it somewhere 
To continue to challenge myself to be be Mindful, to get things done rather than over thinking and putting off...Confront fears of being. 
Let go of my fears, wake up earlier, go to bed earlier, and continue attempting to be the kind of husband and father my wife and kids deserve. 
Bring life into the world. 

Happy New Year, Everyone! - K.