It is the strangest of days and I don’t know how to explain or even if I could what it has been like.
The day began with a dream that was among the most real and intense I have ever had and were I the superstitious type, well I would say it has meaning.
And with that we reach our first music break.
- Lay, Lady, Lay– Bob Dylan
- Layla– Derek & The Dominos
- All I Ask Of You– Phantom Of The Opera
- Ring of Fire– Johnny Cash
- Whiskey Lullaby– Brad Paisley & Alison Krauss
You’re As Crazy As They Come
Memories of being called crazy and much worse flow through the big screen inside my head, no 3D glasses required or popcorn provided.
I do what I do best and keep moving figuring some will like, some will love and some will hate me.
Can’t live my life as others wish I would or do solely as society says I should because I am too big for a box.
Some will say I am selfish and others selfless but all I can do is search for the balance we never find but always chase.
The heart wants what it wants and you can go as you will or go as you wish and there is a difference.
She Was Only 16
My heart aches for old friends who woke up to the incomprehensible loss of their 16 year-old daughter.
She went to sleep and never woke up again so I was told.
No history of illness or substance abuse and even if there were it would be among the most profound and terrible tragedies a parent ever faces.
I cannot imagine the pain and sense of loss they feel or completely understand the horror they must face now.
She was only 16.
I hugged my children more than they liked today because when the awful and inexplicable happens this is what you do.
You tell yourself you are much luckier than you realized because it could always be worse and try not to feel guilty for being grateful you aren’t in their shoes.
And then you write about things because it is part of how you work, how you cope and how you breathe.
“Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learnanything or anyone
that does not bring you aliveis too small for you.”
― David Whyte, The House of Belonging
What To Do
At a quarter to 1 last night I finished debating the future and right actions with my own teenager.
He can’t know or understand the contradiction of pride and frustration I felt during our discussion.
When I told him he was working on proving he is as dumb as I was and may yet still be there was a part of me that celebrated his fierce independence and willingness to fight for his beliefs.
And then there was the voice of experience that asked why I should be excited about a boy who stands in the fire and pours gasoline over his head.
It is one thing when I do knowingly do so and dance in the flames because I have a plan and another when he just does it.
Some might say my plan is stupid and based on nonsense but those who say don’t know the full extent or what drives me.
That teen says something similar.
The Strangest Of Days
I never planned on being a storm walker nor expected life to look anything as it does now.
If I told you how much I hated being forced to keep a journal or how I fought it you might not believe it.
The words always flowed freely when I wanted them to but I refused to let them loose upon the page when asked because I didn’t want to.
Hell I wouldn’t give you an ounce of insight into my thoughts or feelings and if I sensed you were prying I might tell you the opposite of what was really happening.
There are moments when I still do so and times when I work on masking it all.
I almost hesitate to share that now because it is guaranteed to be misinterpreted and misunderstood.
But on this strangest of days I’ll leave it because sometimes you don’t burn bridges, lock the door or close every window.
In part it is because it just doesn’t matter.
You can build the highest and strongest walls and there are always those who can tear them down as Joshua did in and to Jericho.
The way I see it those foolish enough to wander in can spend time trying to decipher the hieroglyphics or just close their eyes, listen to the breathing and go with what they know.
Which in my case sometimes feels like everything and sometimes like nothing.
What Kind Of Father Are You?
Are you Clint Eastwood at the end of Unforgiven or are you Walter cum Heisenberg.
Or maybe you are just the guy who wants to be the one who can craft lines that read like poetry and be sung in songs that are forever remembered.
Is that because of ego or desire to prove you can reach the pinnacle of a profession you aren’t currently working in?
We’ll leave that unanswered for now.
And instead we’ll wander off into the darkness trying to reconcile the impossible with the improbable while preparing for a morning that is going to require patience, wisdom and a little bit of luck.
I am the fool but it hasn’t yet been determined what kind I am and for how long I may be.
It is the strangest of days.
