So I set out this morning with that in mind and managed to fully recapture the feeling of old. I completely went about my activities today in total shitshow fashion. I’ve cantored probably 1000 masses by now…I actually forgot a piece of music only to realize it after the service started…not good. And in the moment in which I was trying to understand how this was any different than the usual, I actually saw the difference and I came to understand more about the challenge of this year. It’s about fear.

I did something today I’ve never done. I panicked about it. But the lesson I walk away with is that I lived through it. And it was something I couldn’t solve and someone else could. That started me thinking that my challenge and my fear is to see what happens when I let go…when I stop trying so hard–which I know I can do but in the end will kill me. The challenge is to see what can and will happen when I don’t have control of the reins, either because I’m stupid (for which I can love myself) or I have no ability to see how things will end. What happens if I don’t try so hard? Or if I don’t proceed with the intention of pleasing anyone but myself? What happens when I stop gripping on so tight? Or when I lose my grip against my will? What will become of the “usual”? In these same terms, then, I wonder what becomes of that someone of something that flies in the face of their fears? What happens when someone becomes fearless? How do they get there? And what are the outcomes?

I sure did live through today. It was uncomfortable. I panicked for a little while. But in the end, it worked out. Others stepped in. The world kept turning. And I walk away feeling supported and nourished in a way I may not have even known was out there. And this is just about forgetting a piece of music and the ensuing flurry to get back on track. I can’t help but think that if I can take a deep breath and dive in to all of that that continually scares me…not just worries me but actually terrifies me, that I can make some progress…and not just for its own sake. But actually to find paths I never even knew could exist.

Or I could just jump off a cliff. It all feels the same.

And I believe this year will change my life.

I usually don’t have that feeling on this day or time; I’ve watched the New Year’s celebrations on tv (Dick Clark’s Rockin Eve used to be the absolute go-to until he had a stroke and now he just creeps me out…so I don’t really watch anymore…) and the ball would drop and everyone would make a big deal. And I would just feel nothing. I wanted to be that excited, that enamored with the idea of new and clean, a fresh start, a new canvas. Instead, I could never turn my head away from the past. More often than not, I live in what happened and treat what’s happening with an equal amount of apathy and disdain (what happened is much easier to handle…you’re dealing with facts and reality and not the tempting ether of what could be.

But this year is different. And I’ve felt this coming on for awhile. It’s almost against my will. But I feel that some material has shifted. The stars have aligned and something new, of which I have no knowledge, is definitely on the horizon. Whether it’s looming or perched ready for a grand entrance I don’t know. But the air smells different–like it does right before a thunderstorm when that first crack of lightening spiders through the air. The leaves blow upside down and for just a moment electricity becomes sensible, almost tangible. And as much as fear might instruct you to move to shelter, adrenaline rules that moment and begs you, no demands you, to stand right where you are and entertain the possibility that that spindly lightening hand or that peal of thunder might be the moment that you and your maker meet.

I am in that moment right now. It is a moment of alignment and as many of these moments (I believe, although this is my first) go, it’s not sprung on you. I’ve been doing yoga for years now, very intentionally, communing with whatever Universe is out there that determines all things including the tightness of my hamstrings. I’ve been singing in church for HOURS every week–more communing with the Universe, although dressed up in one particular way there. Nonetheless, I have spent some major, committed time asking open ended questions.

I think it’s been indicated to me that I should be ready. That I have been heard. There are answers coming…and I’d best be ready when they show up, whatever they are. The only way I know this to be true is the electricity of the air around me. There are few times in my life (but all incredibly precious) in which I have just known. I haven’t even needed confirmation because it’s all so clear. This is one. Things are about to change. And it’s mine to walk through that door or to stay so safely comfortable right here. And therein lies the challenge of change. While we all say we want it, we want the dream of it. We want the version we’ve laid out in our heads. We want to command it. And change is not to be commanded. Either rejected or embraced. We control the action, not the detail.

So, here I am. For the first time, maybe ever, I’m ready for this electric change. I’m embracing that this time next year, everything…EVERYTHING…will be different. And whether it’s better or worse…well, that’s my story to write.

I can’t explain the way these epiphanies happen. Sometimes they seem random but my real guess is that it’s usually when I stop trying to control everything and just let things–against my will–that things happen. Good things. Life-giving things.

I’ve been busy lately and as I’ve felt the stranglehold on my usual routine loosen, magic happens. A great, great concert on Saturday. Lots of good things Sunday. And a Monday full of things that can only be attributed to pure luck or the universe stepping in and simply giving me a break because I’ve been working so hard…spinning my wheels, really, at things that should be pretty easy.

Tom today said that I should enjoy all the great things I bring to the world around me…and I laughed…because all those great things feel like pure gifts…I don’t necessarily work that hard to get them…but the joy is nothing but pure and real. I laugh it off or think nothing of it but…I had an epiphany about it…

…things are good. And I’ve worked hard to have it that way.

This is one of those cases of, “you don’t think about it until it’s gone.”  And now I can’t think of anything but that.  So many years of insights.  Not all good ones.  Not by far.  But some moments of truth there.  Moments captured of the hardest years of my life thus far.  And the history is gone.  And maybe that’s exactly the way it should be.  Those years are important and ones to remember…but they can be remembered without a word for word re-enactment. I guess.

In the end, it would’ve been nice to be informed that every thought I committed to digital reality up until the start of this brilliant space would be completely wiped from existence.  But then, it’s good to be able to let them go.  That was then.

And today is now.

And this is the post I was looking for:

http://mybeachtent.com/page/7/

It’s so annoying.

Today I’d almost had it. But, in an effort to contain myself, I started wondering what exactly causes the breakdown of public behavior. Tom seems to think it’s narcissistic personality. I’m prone to argue, along sociological lines, that it has to do with power–it’s a reclaiming of space they want or need but don’t have. I’m sure theories abound. But it all seems to do with the loss of the idea that anyone exists but yourself. It’s not even a choice to be rude; it’s a total lack of awareness of others around you.

I used to really like riding the train. At least I didn’t hate it. And now I find myself actually forced to plug into some headset or earphones to avoid other people’s need to not realize anyone else exists but them. I’m forced to be disconnected.

Or else kill them in a blatant fit of rage.

I’m beginning to wonder how it is that people get so self-absorbed that all they can see is them. More interestingly, I’m fascinated by the fact that this is a choice; there’s literally no will to compromise. I’ve gotten used to opting for the highway, but I always do with a little sadness. The highway always seems like it should be a last resort and it comes up a lot more frequently recently.

Granted, there was a time not so very long ago at which I’d really work to make things work out. It’s interesting how much rigidity shows up when you start not bending over backwards to please people. Not exactly what I was hoping to find. But much less stressful to maintain.

When I told this story to a friend, he immediately mentioned that it was one of the best metaphors for my life that he’d ever heard. He said, “you lost something that was yours…it was actually taken from you…and you made your peace about it. But because you looked for it, you got it back. And you asked someone to help you find it…and they did.” I tend to live on a metaphorical level anyway…but I think this might be an area in which I’m totally blind. I don’t think it’s unimportant that I never would have seen this side of the story had he not led me to it. Similar to me finding that car; I would’ve looked for a long time and continued to pass over it without a little help from the outside.

What I’m most amazed by is that I’ve come up against a type of problem in my life that I just don’t know how to solve. I feel like I can look and look and literally not be able to see what I’m looking for unless someone else can see it for me…or encourage me to look in a different direction. It’s scary, I absolutely feel there’s no reason to go down that road…but maybe what I’m looking for will be there. Is it possible?

I guess I did find the car.

And if I expand just a little further, it’s a tiny birdbrain academic worldview that’ll really throw everything off fast. In case you’ve not had the utter joy and horror of having any contact with the academic world, lucky you. But if you have, you know that one “no” from someone who you really require to say “yes” can really wreck your whole day. And it’s because their tiny worldview threatens to destroy everything you’ve sunk into the past six, miserable, interminable years. That one little world is enough to cause full on panic in a way not even an enormous natural disaster can.

That kind of power shouldn’t exist in this world. Built on the back of corruption, it’s completely gross; for anyone who’s ever been in a compromising position (and haven’t we all at some point), you know the pain of having someone else controlling your sad, minuscule puppet strings as you just hang there and honestly hope for the best…which will only be determined by someone so socially maladjusted that they can’t pick up a phone or at least drop an email in any kind of reasonable time.

All I can keep saying is, “just wait until I’m free of you.” I’ve never been a person seeking revenge…but people change, don’t they?

But I’ll say this: reconnecting never feels wrong. That’s not to say that I haven’t seen someone for the first time in a long time and thought, “nope, this was over a long time ago.” Or similarly, that every time I see someone I haven’t for awhile that I’m happy about it. In fact, to the contrary. I was just thinking this morning of all of the people I’m glad about exiting my life. Some we users and just completely sucked me dry. Others were confused and sought answers elsewhere. Still others were like a little capsule of time…right at that very moment but not for a second longer. For those, there was no actual, discernible connection. Sure, at the time it felt like there was. But as the mist of friendship or blush of love faded, there was nothing actually there even from the beginning. For those folks, reconnecting isn’t even possible; there was nothing thee in the first place.

No, reconnection is something that happens only for the few who present that ever-elusive chance to connect in the first place. It’s not a physical thing or a mental quirk. I do think connection is something of the soul, something mystical which cannot be overly examined or characterized…it’s merely felt and known somewhere in the deep recesses of ourselves. On some level, we just are innately aware of those to whom we connect. And that is something timeless and maybe even forever, maybe even beyond what we understand forever to be.

The good news, I think, is that connection doesn’t have to be grandiose. It can be tapped into over beer (only minor pun intended) or can actually be conveyed thoroughly in a couple-word text message or a gesture…even a look. I’ve had what I consider the rare pleasure of knowing several people with whom i converse best entirely nonverbally and those people are treasures; the connection is so obvious, words are not required…and in this age of seemingly endless words…I do find that a gift.

I have been judged by many of the course of my lifetime for my choices: in friends, in relationships, in grudges and sympathies. Many of my “connections” fall into those categories. I can’t explain my attraction to this people. Maybe they stand out above normality. Maybe the circumstance in which I’ve stumbled upon them renders a relationship that just looks foreign to others. Maybe it doesn’t make easy sense to people outside the know. And for these, and others I’m sure, I’ve been met with skepticism and raised eyebrows. I’ve been pitied because of my weird coterie of seemingly random friends. And loves. And the fact that those categories aren’t always mutually exclusive.

The actual pity, though, lies with those who judge, I think, because they just don’t know. Connectedness is something completely alien and always will be. Reconnectedness isn’t even an option. That is a true, true shame. In the end I’ve known some fascinating people and I’ve known them well. And that’s all that really matters. And I get to be the judge of that.

I was just thinking about what is there if I’m not and realizing that there’s not much. It made me want to seriously start writing letters and diaries again; all that’s there is 140 insignificant nothings on Facebook…that are usually meaningless or trapped within so much insider context it has literally no tread outside of the moment. That bothers me especially when I think about all the really good thoughts I have in one day.

And so I fire up the blog again. And then print every now and then so that there’s some tangible proof that I can engage a topic for longer than 30 seconds.