The departure is not external it’s internal. My beach is my mind. I can choose to rest the drama and frustration about my son’s progress, my wife’s indifference, and all of us just trying to survive. I am okay with that. Time for my time out.
It’s not me, it’s the universe giving me the STOP sign again.
Job: Near Miss.
Lawsuit: Reinvest, fight one more time.
Relationship: desired but undesirable at this moment
Fitness: Good.
Social: Very good.
Creative: Good. Seeking next momentum shift.
It’s up to me. All this active searching, active dreaming, active use of the dating apps. Just to see if somone’s showed up. The Woman is not going to show up. (Perhaps she already has.) But it’s not going to be through a dating app. I find myself caught in the distraction again. Open app, anyone? No. Expand your parameters? No. Rest.
I’m at a tipping point yet again. Money in vs. money out. But, I’ve discovered a new variation on the goal. What I’m seeking over the next ten to twenty years.
Energy and time to write. Ideas and motivations to write about. A healthy approach to work, sleep, food, and love. Companionship of a fantastically inspired woman.
I understand one disappointment of my marriage now better than ever. When we met and began dating, we both kept art studios and devoted Saturdays and Sundays to “creative time.” We were both investing in ourselves and our stories. After the first child arrived everything changed for both of us. In the transformation I continued to find time to go “into my studio” even if it meant 11 pm to 2 am on a work night. My ex-wife lost all motivation outside of being a mom. She tried to continue painting or writing, but her topic, focus, and time was all baby. Then there was a second baby. Then, my “art time” became resented. My naps on a Sunday after a night of creative exploration, became laziness. Irresponsibility. Not doing enough.
I promise you, I was doing all I could to make my most important person happy. Along the way, two other people showed up and took a good bit of the focus. I understood that my dreams and plans were now going to be reimagined as a father. I wasn’t going to be a traveling rock star. I wasn’t even going to be the lead singer in an indie band touring the West Coast. Nope. I was somewhat free to continue my musical adventures, but within the confines of my growing family.
In Los Angeles, at a music festival, I arrived at my own point of crisis. I didn’t want to be in LA. I wanted to be home with my, now two, kids. I wasn’t going to be pursuing this music as a career. Back to the daily grind. Tech marketing. Project management. And a string of jobs attached to periods of safety and love, mixed with moments of fear and anxiety anytime I’d lose the big job. We both did our best.
I continued to find the energy to write and play music on nights and weekends. I found the “me” time to devote to my craft. Sure, I no longer aspired to tours I could continue to write and record all the music I wanted. And blogging had become a conduit to developing my voice. This one. The one you’re reading now. Millions of readers, thousands of posts, more than a handful of books, and here we are. Novel number four in a rapid bloom of words emerging in 2024 and continuing.
It’s overheated. I’m missing some of the zip and sting I once had. The ongoing chaos of money has grabbed the scruff of my neck a few times this week. I get anxious. It is not about anything particular. I’m quite safe. It’s not about mood or loss. I think I’m resting my entire system, or letting the cables sleep.
I was wondering about the large grey matter of mystery in our physical brains. What if that is the disc-swap area? And nightly, if we get a good bit of deep sleep, our brains defrag from the stress and load of the day. Deep sleep has become a focus. Protecting my energy and health through sleep, exercise, and fewer snacks.
And this…
Sleep. Rest. Relax.
There is no need to force any of the motions. 1. Continue to generate income opportunities, 2. continue to write with abandon and purpose, 3. believe in a power greater than myself with regards to women, rewards, and next steps.
I don’t need to make any radical changes. I am happy to lean into the writing blooms as they arrive by design with greater intent and duration. And then also appreciate the cables being given some rest. The grey matter reorganizing and regrouping the main thrusts of my life.
Write. Love. Extend.
Allow a moment of slowness to be a welcome sign of transition. I don’t have to force the change. Change is coming. Winter has arrived outside. Money is tight again. Politics completely unhinged and uncertain. No time to make drastic moves. Stay the course. Allow this moment to be pleasant and peaceful. There is no anxiety that I’m not making up. At this present moment, everything is in it’s right place.
Me. 2 cats. All of you. Impatience does not help.
