The Vibe of the Journey
The exercise of writing takes vigor. It takes energy and want and desire and the slightest, needle-light-ray twinge of focus. It takes meditation.
I am out of practice.
Sure - there have been circumstances that have arisen in my life that have skiffed my feet to deviate from the original course - and that's alright. A gorgeous life partner! Switching jobs and homes. And towns. And the birthing of a beautiful daughter who needed extra medical attention the first month of her life. These things happen in life, and in no way do I feel that they've slowed me down - but they have just taken my laser-gaze away from my words. They are all things to be celebrated! It's a different phase. A new road.
But I'm getting hungry again. The storm of life is residing into a bit of a manageable trickle. I am finding myself again. Words are starting to come out, and I've even created the first new songs in about 5 months. Songwriting has always been a grounding force for me, and a therapeutic release. It's a process of dealing with a feeling or emotion or mind-state (anger, joy, sadness, reflection, future-vision) and putting those thoughts into forward motion and action as they leave your mind and hit the paper.
And no matter what joy and tribulation and testing and jubilation comes, I walk the road. The goal is perpetual motion. I want to keep learning and growing and getting better, and I feel that I'm on that course. Being a father of a tiny human being and the partner of a beautiful woman are part and parcel to that - and though both things happened in unexpected time zones - isn't that just life to a tee? We are never ready for when the beauty hits. It just comes in waves upon waves and takes us to where we need to be - as where we need to be and where we think we need to be are two very different destinations.
The spring has hit in pure, unrelenting sunlight. The flood waters of the Ottawa area are lowering. The bugs will be out in droves. I am looking forward to long walks with Olive the dog, and a frosty evening pint on a dusty, summer walk. I am looking to running through the forest in my parents neighbourhood, and under yellowed-streetlight tunnels in the downtown region. I am looking forward to the lake and time spent with family and friends. I am looking forward to see those I love change and grow and learn around me. I am looking forward to engaging my community and getting involved.
Let us live lives of meaning, freedom and trying - and not be like the cotton-mouthed folks of Bukowksi's words:
"There's nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don't live up until their death. They don't honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can't hear it. Most people's deaths are a sham. There's nothing left to die.
"The Captain Is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship
