I get email: The cliffnotes version of my journey is that I have been attempting to stave off a complete mental breakdown for the last few years. During my good days I am functioning but all too often my grip is tenuous and I am lucky to 'mark time' hoping no one will notice how checked out I am. What an odd coincidence that you retreat from FB because of the facade it requires. Indulging in that bizarre fantasy world is exactly what I crave ~ Fake it 'til you make it. FB is therapy in a way. Well, that and mind-numbing sudoku puzzles. That from someone I love dearly, and have been remiss keeping up with. I am taking steps to open up lines of help for her. I'm not certain what I'm doing anymore. Things did seem more certain when that girl and I were laughing at the world 20 years ago. Work, sleep, eat, work sleep eat, work sleep eat, work sleep eat work sleep eat. In other news, I've been following you all, despite what you may think. I'm a lurker supreme.

It appears that blogger is forcing us to accept certain new conditions... so this blog will probably move soon. Film at 11.

On Friendship

I moved away from my hometown at an interesting age. I was 41. I didn't realize how established relationships/friendships are by that time, so here I am, five years later, without a social circle, which I've only just realized (for a variety of mundane reasons). How does one go about rebuilding a circle of friends at the age of 46?

Hell, let's just call it "New Music May"

A friend of mine in the UK is a total fiend for pop music, and occasionally hosts a drunken online DJ session. I have found more great new music through him in the last year than I did in the previous decade. I particularly like any in-your-face music that celebrates empowering people, which this one definitely does...

New Music Sunday

Enjoy!

DELETION

 So, I finally deactivated my facebook account. Sorry, Heather, I know it was one of the few ways that we kept in touch.

I really don't know what it was that finally drove me to do it.  There is just something so superficial and artificial about it.  Which is not to say that online stuff is universally bad--tonight I had a long online gchat with Laura, and it was awesome. 

But I don't like to be calm, and I don't like to accept things the way they are.  I will always struggle against the way things are, it seems.

If you haven't discovered MDK yet, you need to play that video. Be prepared to be watching her youtube videos for the next hour and a half if you do, though. And if you're in a bad mood and want to stay in that bad mood, then you'll be foiled. More soon!

Endless Horizons

I've been in a weird frame of mind lately.  What is it that drives us to do what we do?  Yesterday I woke up and I had no desire to engage the world at all, but today I was a total fiend for it all.  And tomorrow, who knows?

My kale and spinach and radishes have germinated and are growing.  I have them covered in hoop houses.  I go out there and lift the plastic and see the little things getting bigger, and it makes me happy.  And those garlics!  So much bigger today than this time last week.

I remember the smell of the greenhouse in my Swedish grandfather's greenhouse.  He used to go in there and go to sleep.  At the time (I was about 10) I thought it funny, but now it makes sense.  Were but that I could talk to him now, or even my father, given what I've learned in the last 35 years.

I'm not certain what I should do anymore.  "Helping friends" seems like a no-brainer.  But past that, I'm looking at the end of that paddle and wondering what it's pointing to.

A springtime ritual

Today I filled, amended, cleaned, half-planted, hooped, and covered the first of the raised garden beds for 2012. Radishes, arugula, asian spinach, and kale. The other half is for staggered plantings of the same. I found two wire worms, which quickly turned into wire-worm mush between my fingers (please don't tell PETA). Laura put this bed together for me last year, and she half-filled it with extra native dirt that I had lying around (the dirt ran out, hence the half-filling). So I bought several bags of organic topsoil and compost, and finished the job, along with some bonemeal and mineral goodness. Turn the entire thing with a garden fork, and then get into it with hands and elbows to even the mix, tossing out the stones... rake the whole thing flat, and then out with the 2" planting jig. Seed, water, put in the hoops and then clamp the plastic. That's a satisfying day!

Laura is now asking me to visit her and help her build some garden beds, which I think I should do. She worked hard to put together these beds for me, and to fill them as much as she could with the soil that I had on hand. So a road trip is in order.

What the fuck is wrong with the USA?

I've thought now for a long time that what is good for women, is good for men. And what is bad for men, is also bad for women. In general, of course. The point being that this is not a zero-sum game, and we as genders are neither at war nor in competition for health, happiness, and success.

I understand the math behind this, of course. Just as I understand why young women are charged less for car insurance than young men. But health insurance is fundamentally different--a health problem can financially cripple someone, forever. And yes, womens' health issue are more complex than mens'. But how sad is it that we reduce this fundamental human issue to one of statistics, relegating it to the same status as a 16-year-old's insurance for an automobile's learner permit?

This is the issue that the Supreme Court is about to decide. And sadly, they will probably decide it against the ACA. Maybe not, but I don't hold out much hope.

I hope that I can live to see a day when men and women are truly treated equally under the law in the USA. We are clearly not anywhere near that point yet.

Note to self for the week of 3/25/2012

It's okay to fuck up!  Happens all the time.

Better late than never

Seedlings in the greenhouse

Everyone Loves Bacon

A picture of Jupiter and Venus, now just 3º apart, apparently, as viewed from France.  The first thing I thought was: what are their respective Bacon Numbers?

Choices

I learned today that my long-ago Ex lost her home to foreclosure.  For those that have been reading here for a long time, that would be Venus (to my Mars).  In one way, that made me sad.  She loved that little townhome.  That plus her truck were her entire identity.  In another, not so much, since I tried to hard to counsel her on how to keep it, but she had no clue or desire to know how to change that.

Ultimately, this just drives home to me how we can't change people at all. We are who we are, and honestly, it's insane to expect that to change.

For me, this is kind of a pivotal moment in my life.  I can't, and don't want to live this way forever.  Or do I?  I don't know.  There are choices to be made.

What I can't do is simply settle.  I've been alive enough to know that settling for people in my life leads to deep unhappiness.

Transitions

My uncle died today. Or yesterday, I'm not certain. It's a blur. He was a good man, and I will miss him.

When I was small, he took me to an amusement park. I was very afraid of it all, but he made it all better by making stupid noises for me. I know, that's silly, right? But he saw how afraid that I was, and he looked me in the eye, and said: "Hey James, AHAKHEKRHEAKJHID!"

And I laughed, and I responded in kind. We spent the next 15 minutes spouting nonsense to each other, and reveling in the act. He just wanted me to be happy, and he succeeded.

When he was older, he found his true love, and he left all in his life to pursue her. The family disapproved, but he was right in the end. He was happy with her, and she made him complete.

Heikki, you were always my favorite uncle, and I love you.

That's how I prefer to remember him, as a good person who wished well for me. Time is so short, and the people in our lives so transient.

Tomorrow

After my "Reboot" post, I decided to consciously give up a quiver of bad habits in an effort to--I don't know--better myself, or something. It seemed like I was stuck in a rut, so why not shake off the things that were obviously detrimental? I was also overweight, something that troubled me because I've always been an active and (if I may say so) adventurous person my entire life, so I took the opportunity to do a brief fast to clear my mind and start the process of getting back to whomever I was, at least physically.

That two-day fast turned into a five-day, and then a six-day. Last night I broke it, with a strawberry. I'm sorry to report that I have eaten the sweetest, most delicious strawberry that ever grew upon the face of the earth, and that you missed it. Had you been here, I hope that I could say that I would have shared--but maybe not! That strawberry was followed by blueberries, blackberries, sprigs of the most tender asparagus... !

You think a lot when you fast. We spend so much time driving to get food or ingredients, or to restaurants, or eating, or cleaning up after eating, or planning meals. I did none of that for the last week, and the hours crawled by slowly. I worked, I cleaned, I did all those things we do each day except for the simple survival expedient of eating. With so much time, one must think.

Today I cleaned the house from top to bottom, and took a fast & hard ride of four miles around the hills here, coming home tired and drenched in sweat, but elated. And then I cooked. I haven't cooked in so long... cooking is a kind of meditation, a gift to oneself. It's a way of saying "hey, you're a good person, I'm making this for you." When I don't cook--when I heat packaged food from a store--it's a mechanical, meaningless act.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I have schemes.

And a quote

I'm up late tonight, but clutching a text of my favorite author, Jorge Luis Borges, before I go to sleep.  A quote of his once changed my life:

Truly fine poetry must be read aloud. A good poem does not allow itself to be read in a low voice or silently. If we can read it silently, it is not a valid poem: a poem demands pronunciation. Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.

I always felt that to be a metaphor for life.

Reboot

It's hard for me to admit that I've been dealing with some depression issues, but I have.  Human bodies and minds are a complex feedback system, they deal with interactions with other people, your own sense of self worth, how you live your daily life, your diet, your activities, etc.  I can eat right, and do right, and I try to do both.

And each night I have dreams, unlike anything I've had before.  It's one thing to dream the usual dreams that we all have, but another to awaken with a memory of a dream of something from 35 years ago.  Why is that happening?  And why is it happening every night now?  Each day I awaken to insights that I really don't want or need, about things that I can no longer change?

For example:
When I was ten, I lived in a country home, and I walked a quarter mile to school.  Each morning, I woke up, I ate breakfast, and I walked to school.  One day, I picked up a rock, and when a car came by, I quietly tossed the rock at the side of the car.  Each time I heard it hit, I laughed.

I did that for months.  But one day the car screeched to a stop, and backed up and cut me off from escape.  The driver jumped out and started cursing at me, because he knew what I'd done.  I ran, and nothing came of it.

Another time:
I had to awaken early to catch my bus to high school.  This was years after the rock event above.  One day I was very early, and I arrived at the bus stop before anyone.  There was a woman there in a car, crying, hunched over her steering wheel.  She composed herself and drove off before the bus arrived.

These are just two of the confusing dreams that I've had recently.  The angry man, and the crying woman.  Both are very old now, if not dead.  But I keep dreaming their memory.  Why?

Pale Blue Dot

I saw this again tonight. It's always inspiring. I miss Sagan.

Random nice video

Yes, I'm still alive :)

¿Qué te importa que te ame,
si tú no me quieres ya?
El amor que ya ha pasado
no se debe recordar

Fui la ilusión de tu vida
un día lejano ya,
Hoy represento al pasado,
no me puedo conformar.

Si las cosas que uno quiere
se pudieran alcanzar,
tú me quisieras lo mismo
que veinte años atrás.

Con qué tristeza miramos
un amor que se nos va
Es un pedazo del alma
que se arranca sin piedad

Music Sunday

A friend of mine just pointed me at this cover, which is amazing: