Revising...

So as my Advanced Fiction Writing class is coming to an end this semester, I decided to make a resolution for my Fiction blog "All the World' s A Stage...". Having great feedback and guidance on my work, one of my weakest areas really came in to focus: revising.

Not only did I miss several key descrepancies in my work, but silly litte things that kill the flow of a story were missed as well: wrong verb tense, sentence fragments, typos and on and on.

While I normally permit the Creative Me to ooze content and tell the Creative Me that the Diligent Me will fix it later, I have come to the conclusion that the Diligent Me is not so diligent!

Not to be detered as I love a challenge, I know that the Diligent Me doesn't get used all that much which is the cause of this lack of ability. So, to correct this problem, I am going to begin to start revising my pieces at least twice before I just leave them alone in cyberspace.

There are a lot of pieces that I have already posted that could use, or really need, revision. So, I am thinking that will be a great place to get things started.

Great ideas don't necessarily make great stories. That is a harsh reality brought to my attention and I intend to correct that problem!

09-22-2010

So, It has been several months since I last wrote in my blogs. Man, how the time flies. I have been writing, though. After my workshop, I have spent more time fine tuning pieces and I have even begun to revise my novel! And the revision of Phin has been wonderful, especially now that we are heading into fall; the smells, the colors of changing leaves, the change of clothing, all things that made me love the novel, or rather everything I love is in the novel!

I am taking an fiction writing course this fall and after two assignments, I have realized how important stepping away from a piece and revisiting it is for the quality of the piece. One of my favorite pieces, which I felt was missing something, was used as an assignment piece. My instructor made comments and asked questions in all the right spots and made me realize I am selling myself short when I write and revise. I am holding back, yet some how flying.

Odd, am I not?

Tomorrow

It's Friday, July 23rd. Tomorrow morning I embark on a long await step towards a dream. My workshop at the The Iowa Writer's Summer Festival begins around 9 am. My first writer's workshop.

Until Monday, it was all just an intellectual endevour; however, my emotions, nerves decided they wanted in on the action! I am excited, anxious and nervous. Its not so much that there will be many other talented or more talented writers, but I am a bit anxious that I may discover that I am not as mediocre as I think, but much worse!

Yes, I know I am thinking the worst; however, I know that not matter what I discover I know I will learn so much from attending the workshop. It will be a grand adventure, social anxiety be damned!

I am sure I will have several post about my experience, and maybe even work produced during the workshop.

Projects

So, I have been really busy now that I am back at "work". I have less time to generate posts, but I have been writing a lot in my journal and working on a few larger projects, pieces, as of late.

I wish I could quit my day job and focus on the work at hand, but that is a luxury beyond my grasp. At any rate, I am now better at managing my time, finding time to read and write in albeit shorter spurts, but they are indeed productive spurts!

I have been working on a piece that is along the lines of a social commentary, yet not quite as prolific as Sartre, I should say! I had a note I came across and wondered if I worked it into a character's persona I could express some thoughts in a creative manner. So, as a exercise of sorts, I began to develop a few characters for this piece and have been pleasantly surprised. The beginning to the story is coming along nicely; much better than I had anticipated. I am not sure the complexities of the characters is there yet, or if they will get where they are in my head, but I is a great start!

Busy, busy, busy. Now if my stupid wrist would stop hurting long enough to let me sleep, that would be terrific! Oy!

James Joyce

I have been on a fiction streak lately and bought James Joyce's "Dubliners" since I will need it this fall anyway. I am not sure what I think, exactly, however while the stories are good they seem to end too abruptly; there isn't really an ending.

After reading the first few stories I have to admit I was rather annoyed. James Joyce, a classical master of literature, who...

That's how I felt! It just seemed to stop in mid flow. Or is that the way he meant it? As I think about it, no story ever really ends anyway. Was James just merely capturing a snapshot of a story? Possible. And if that is the case, then it is genius. If that is not the case, then I want my money back and would be hard pressed to read more of his work!

However, there must be something more since he he so revered in the world of literature, so I am sure I will give him more looks in the future. However, is writing is great and I do find it very enjoyable to read; except his endings....

Cool Hand Luke

As I scroll through the massive amounts of movies I can watch on my PC thanks to Netflix, I have seen several movies I have heard about or saw as a child and think I should really watch them since they are virtually free. I think for me to pay $9 a month is like back in the day when I used to pay $3 for a cup at a house party -the house always lost money thanks to my large liver. I find Netflix to be a similar situation, just without the detrimental health issues associated with addiction.

Anyway, after watching the 1951 version of "The Day The Earth Stood Still" Sunday evening, I came across the 1967 classic "Cool Hand Luke" with Paul Newman, George Kennedy and a slew of then no-names, such as Dennis Hopper and Harry Dean Stanton.

I remember bits and pieces of this film from my childhood, mostly the intrigue of road gangs and the care free attitude of the lead character, Luke. However, I must admit, I remembered very little, and perhaps understood even less than I thought as a young lad.

While this is supposed to be a prison film, and I am sure this is more indicative of the time period, I felt a bit as though it was a federal prison - fairly lax. After working in residential treatment centers with emotionally handicapped adolescents, I dealt with fifteen years olds who were more dangerous than the men in the film! But, I tried to remind myself this was thirty years prior to my experiences, so my clients were in a sense social descendants of these "bad boys" in the film.

That being said, it was a good film. The plot wasn't the strongest, but the performances were great. As the film starts off with Luke (Paul Newman) using a pipe cutter to cut the heads off of parking meters, while intoxicated, of course. We then quickly arrive in a prison camp, where we get a brief insight into Luke's past, as well as his character. Calm, cool, ready with an answer or cynical remark, he is one who seems to go with the flow no matter the situation. And the rest of the movie plays out in that manner; well, with the exception of his "breaking" scene. I still think he didn't, but that is up for debate.

While this is not a film for all, it is a great film, well done and quite honestly well worth the two quick hours.

Miss Marple

Over the past several weeks, I have found myself looking forward to eight o'clock on Sunday evenings. I have discovered on PBS the presentation of the BBC's Masterpiece Theater and the rather entertaining Miss Marple series.

I have always enjoyed British television more than American for one reason or another; perhaps the accents make them seem more intelligent or simply the British seem more artsy, regardless if that is true or not! This is not something new for me as i grew up on broadcast television and PBS and am not of the belief that Monty Python is the best of British television. No, I have enjoyed shows like Ballykissangel, Monarch of the Glen, Are You Being Served, Benny Hill, as well as many productions like Emma, Anne of Green Gables, Shakespeare and the like.

As you can see, I tend to have a favorable view of BBC productions, but not all are good, either. So when I see there is something coming on from the BBC I am always willing to give it a go and am usually not disappointed.

As is the case with Mrs. Marples. My wife was awake to watch the first few bits tonight and asked what Mrs. Marples was. Oddly, I told her it was similar to Murder, She Wrote, but in my opinion, better.

Sure they both have an old lady solving murders, but the cleaver thing I like about Miss Marples is how each crime has some sort of personal involvement for her. Be it an acquaintance or former servant, she has a vested interest in the crime. And yes, there are those cryptic moments when she seems as though she is suffering from the onset of dementia, or perhaps she enjoys solving the riddle of the murder a little too much, but she is presented in such a manner it doesn't seem far fetched. Miss Marples is perhaps aware and as insightful as many of of us wish to be, but also willing to do her part and help where she can.

Simply watch for your self and see. I am fairly confident you will not be disappointed, and I think you will find her much more enjoyable than Angela Lansbury, indeed!

Then again, is that hard to do?

Adventures Ahead

After signing up for my workshop in this year's Iowa Summer Writing Festival, I also enrolled in a Advanced Fiction Writing course for this fall. I am pretty excited for the upcoming adventures; the writing, the reading and the interaction with other writers face to face! Sure, I wondered if I need this, if I am ready for this or if it is a lateral move. I don't know where I am at as a writer, but perhaps afterwords I will know a little bit more.

For both adventures I will be working with instructors from the Iowa Writer's Workshop. I grew up in Iowa City and have heard all my life about the program, the writers and the international prestige it carries. So, needless to say, while I am very excited, I am also a bit nervous to be jumping into such a talented group! It will be a great experience to talk with people different levels of skill, talent and various experiences in the writing market.

While I will walk in with no published work, I am hoping the workshop in July will push me to enter into at least one contest. I keep having a recurring vision of myself with a life jacket on almost each time I begin to think about these adventures; I am not sure if I will stay afloat, perhaps? Maybe. I don't plan on sinking; I may struggle a bit, but I will fight to keep my head above water as I'll have the experience to learn many things.

This has been a great year of turning it up a notch, taking steps towards a dream. I don't know what will come of it all, and part of me doesn't really care; the journey is incredible. I am enjoying the moments as they are, not looking too far ahead, and I am anticipating surprising myself. This week I was chatting with my brother who turned forty this year (two years my elder), and we both agreed that if this was my "midlife crisis" it was indeed the most grand midlife crisis! (I don't feel old or at midlife, but take it as you may!)

I must admit I am not exactly sure what will arise or result from the rest of this year's writing adventures, but I know a lot will be learned and they will be experiences I will accept for the good and the not so good. I started down this path twenty years ago, and unfortunately I didn't follow my heart. I am just glad I realized my mistake relatively quickly and have time to correct my path.

Netflix

I finally decided to sign up for Netflix as I am tired of watching broadcast channels that don't always come in - thank you digital television for being so crappy!

As I stated in an earlier post regarding my trial period of Netflix, I am pleased with how very easy it is to use. (I think even my parents could do it, however, I am not going to suggest it for my own sanity!) Anyway, the wife and I watched a movies in her laptop and she was somewhat impressed with the fact that we could choose from so many different movies and television shows. (I am impressed with my choices of documentaries, not so much the wife, though.) After we watched her choice, I watched a PBS documentary on Machu Picchu and Fargo. Three "rentals" in one night and I never even left the couch! Knowing that there are so many more choices than just movies makes it worth the $9 a month, at least for me; the wife is still undecided.

The only thing I feel is missing is the ability to make a playlist, not just a Queue List. I would love to be able to make a list of similar themed movies or documentaries, even just when I find something I might want to watch, I can come back to it verses having to scan all the options each time I want something "different". Is it that big of a deal? No, not really as I can just make a note on my Touch and be on my way! I'll deal and it is in no way going to turn me away from Netflix anytime soon!

So, again, if there is anyone considering Netflix give the Free Month Trial a go and you will soon find that $9 is peanuts for the convenience and ease of use!

Crappy Sleep

Lately I have been sleeping even more crappy than normal. I wake up constantly; probably every hour. I have been training myself to NOT look at the clock every time I awake as that just leads to more frustration and even less sleep. But I know it hasn't been long since I awoke last and all I want to do is just stay asleep!

Have I sought help? No.
Do I really want help? Not sure.
Am I crazy? Debatable.

I am thinking when I do fall asleep, I fall into a deep sleep as I have fantastic dreams and dreaming that intensely requires REM sleep. They are colorful, full of action, dialogue, people, smells, sounds. Sure, I could be so sleep deprived that they are in fact hallucinations, total delusions; or perhaps I am having a late onset of Schizophrenia, psychotic episodes?

Either way, I rather enjoy the places my mind takes me, the things that happen, the excitement, the humor, the wicked imagery that erupts from my imagination. Now, if I could just translate these experiences into words...

I am not so sure this crappier than normal crappy sleep phase is all bad. It doesn't interfere with living a productive, stable life. I hold down a decent job; work a part time job of my choice and dollar amount; am responsible in paying my mortgage; my wife hasn't wanted to commit me yet (I don't think anyway); I can think straight; I am not as irritable as one would think. So there is an up side, but I am not sure how much longer I can maintain such a schedule!

Oh well, life is short and reality is relative. And yes, there is always a story in there some where.

Getting Motivated....

I received an email from my lone follower Terry Towery in reference to my last post, in which I was wondering if I am really ready to write, or if my writing just sucks. Well, as Terry pointed out, I haven't really made a lot of friends in the blogger world by not following more, commenting more; simply interacting with others to get my work out there.

I knew I needed to do this, but it was a great kick in the pants to have someone so tactfully, yet straight forward, tell me the obvious! I felt rather silly this had to be pointed out to me, however, my online behavior has changed already! I have been commenting on some of my more favorite writer's sites, generating some open channels for dialogue.

That being said, I never expected to put my work out there and it magically generate super amounts of traffic. I knew this would take time, and that is fine. I am in no hurry. I haven't been posting comments for silly reasons like feeling as though I have nothing to offer even though a simple "Nice work!" would suffice to open the doors of reciprocation.

I am just beginning to develop the confidence to step forward, and perhaps I had been ready for some time now, but but haven't taken my writing efforts to the next level. Well, steps have been taken and as Yoda said: "Do, or Do Not. There is no try." Therefore, I must actually start doing!

Thanks again, Terry.


On a side note, I have noticed lately this blog has become more of a running journal than my original intention of Reviews & Opinions, so perhaps I will get back to that sooner rather than later!

I wonder...

As I have set the wheels of adventure in motion regarding my writing future, I wonder if perhaps I am not really ready. I have been posting writings for over a year to my Fiction blog, as well as on a few other sites and have not received much if any feedback. I am beginning to think there are really only a couple of reasons.

First, I don't actively promote my site or postings like most writers. For me, right now, getting these items out for people to even s be able to read was a huge first step. I have gotten better at believing in my self, but that is, and probably always will be, an ongoing process. Posting on other sites has been fun, I have read a lot of great stuff and gotten a small taste of what the writing world is doing online. There are tons of resources to get my name and work out there, but I have been more focused on actually having something to put out there.

Second, I am wondering if people are not commenting or reading my stuff because it is in fact really not that good at all. I know I wonder about this all the time, but I don't post something on other sites unless I really like it or am proud of it. I never post something just to get something posted. I feel that would undermine my efforts to become a good and solid writer. So please, feel free to comment!

I need to enter more contests, really heed what I will learn in upcoming workshops and classes; my motivation and commitment are there, but I also feel that any skills I lack can be learned and I am not one to shy away from learning.

Ramble...ramble...

Step Two

So, yesterday I took another step towards my writing career and set things in motion to audit a fiction writing class this fall. As employee of the university, we are entitled to audit one class per semester, fees and tution waved. Had I known four years ago, I'd probably have taken more advantage of the program.

I had to submit a sample of my writing to get special permisson to take the advanced course. Now, most people have a piece or two for such situations, however, I just have my stories, nothing I feel is really all that complete. So, I decided to browse my posts and see if there was something I liked enough to either finish or feel was finished enough. To my surprise I found many pieces that I not only could I use, but how much I enjoyed so many of the entires. There were a few that I couldn't believe I had written.

After my afternoon reading session I began to feel more confident in my decision to step things up and go for it, at least a little. Maybe I am having a some delusion of granduer, or inflated self worth, but in actuality I am just not beating myself down and giving myself a little credit, for once.

Crappy entry, but I am wiped.

Step One

The form is completed.
The check is signed.
The envelope is signed, sealed and soon to be delivered.
What am I talking about?
Well, I finally submitted my registration for the Iowa Summer Writing Festival!

I am very excited, but also very nervous. I hope I don't come away feeling like a fool, as though I wasted my time and money, but I am really trying to remain positive, look to learn as much as possible from the experience. The workshop size is limited to twelve so it should be a very interactive experience.

I decided to sign up for a short story workshop, to focus on getting the gist of a story down in fewer words as I feel I can have a tendency to ramble on at times; and not just when I write. I am looking forward to getting to work on several aspects of writing and develop a whole story during the workshop. I am not concerned about having ideas, but I am concerned about turning these ideas in to decent stories.

However, once again, I need to remind myself that this is exactly why I am participating in the workshop. I have heard so many great things about the Summer Writing Festival I know it will be a wonderful experience, and perhaps some day I will be an instructor for a workshop! Now how could I be more positive than that!

I guess I better get to work and go write some fiction!

A Doozie Of A Dream

So, I have posted a few weird dreams here in my blogs, and I have even turned a dream segment into a rough draft of a novel. However, last night, or maybe this morning, I had one of the strangest dreams I have ever had.

I won't go into great detail here as I am working it out as a short story, but suffice it to say it started off with me being captured by a serial killer, escaping with another victim from the trailer we are being held hostage in, but leaving two other victims behind, who end up being taken by the serial killer once I get away.

I awoke and was rather confused. As the day has gone on, details keep emerging, however, I have more questions than answers! Mostly, I wasn't sure why would I leave two people behind? Why would a serial killer live in a rather nice trailer park if he was torturing his victims? Why was I so calm, not afraid? Why was I wearing the same shorts I wore on my first day of First grade?

A any rate, there is a pretty cool story that I think I can whip up so I will work on that and get it out soon! There isn't a lot to do beside take my creative freedom and fill in the gaps!

Morning News

As I do every morning, I was reading the news, or what the media calls news, anyway. There are the expected political scandals, sex tape releases, the economy tanking here or over seas; you know, the usual "news". Perhaps not the best way to start the day, I suppose, but when you can edit out the extra and exaggerated drama, there is typically a shred of some news within most stories. Still, not the greatest start to the day, but I usually store the information away as fodder for some future fiction piece.

However, there are the stories that make you stop and take notice: children committing savage crimes; abductions and murders committed by seemingly average members of society that are heinous; the crimes committed by individuals who are successful, well-to-do, upper class members of society which seem to attract our attention even more. All of which make us wonder what exactly would cause such an individual to commit such a crime, what possible socioeconomical depravity fed their ill behavior, or in some cases you have to wonder if they are not simply mad.

I am fascinated by the human psyche, all the pitfalls and weaknesses we seem to continue to endure as we "evolve" in to a more enlightened version of ourselves; something better, more civilized than our ancestors. Well, at least that sounds really good and looks even better on paper. But to some extent it is true. We tend to hold ourselves in higher regard than we should, we idealize our grand intellectually driven consciousness, and only when such an heinous crime as a child's murder do we question if there is in fact something wrong with society.

Yet, I feel once we begin to address society's ills, we often, quickly turn our attention back on the individual who committed the crime and focus on what is wrong with them, giving society a free pass at times.

When Caylee went missing, we were frantic about pedophiles being released too soon from prison; yet, her own mother was the culprit. When Columbine happened, we looked at gun laws, school safety, Internet access and information, then we moved to the parents and then finally the boys who committed the crimes. Without doubt the responsibility falls on the boys who committed the crimes, but my point is that we focused on so many issues before we figured out there was something wrong with those boys, which, incidentally does reflect on society, as there were many warning signs.

While these are high profile cases, there are hundreds of similar stories, sometimes on the local level, that bring emotions to boil. In the past year, there were two horrible, unbelievable crimes committed by people I knew as acquaintances. Even though I had limited contact and interaction with these individuals, I immediately felt as thought there was something that I missed, or could have done to save the children that were murdered. Then I thought of the families that survived, the parents, the aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents. I thought about their social network, their friends. Then, as I did with the stories above, I wondered if there was something people missed, something that should have warned someone that these individuals were headed for trouble; either harming themselves or someone else. I can't say if there were or not, but for one of the individuals there were signs for years, and most of us thought they were being addressed. Little did we know.

I keep coming back to that as a society, we are often so busy with trying to maintain that we can glaze over others warning signs. We have increased technology, television, and work hours to distract us, keep us away from our loved ones enough to not be able to pick up on the subtleties of their body language; their hints, silent cries for help. Perhaps our idealized society does indeed need some attention, and we all must begin to give that attention in our own homes.

This is not a simple solution, nor is there a nice and simple solution. It takes great effort to take care of our loved ones, day after day, but selflessness is not exactly a favored approach to life in our "me" driven society.

TV, Or Not TV...

Two nights ago I became very frustrated as no channels were coming in on the television; all I wanted was something decent to watch. Yes, we have an antenna trying to catch the last of what free television has to offer.

Anyway, I reached the point where I realized my leg was bouncing, my pulse had increased and my ears were burning; I was irritated, anxious. Usually I am only this irritable in large social situations due to anxiety, so I was a tad bit confused why I was so anxious sitting in my living room alone at eleven o'clock at night.

Curious, I turned off the television. I listened to the breeze rustle through the tree outside my window and just breathed. Five minutes later, my leg was not bouncing and I was no longer feeling so irritable or anxious. At first I didn't think that television could be the cause, maybe it was just a long day, I was tired or was coming down with something. I didn't think too long about the situation and headed to bed.

Wednesday night came and I wanted to watch American Idol. (Yes, I know, but Harry Connick, Jr. was on the show)

And as luck would have it, the reception was not good. I became irritated, anxious, my leg was bouncing; just like the previous night. Realizing the same feelings arising in me I reached for the remote as though I was reaching for a gun, pointed and shot the infrared beam across the room and silenced the television. The ticking of the clocks, a few creaks of the house, and the faint hum of tires rolling by sleepy little town. As the night before, five minutes later I was not so irritated, anxious, my leg stopped bouncing and I was breathing nice and relaxed.

Could it be? I mean, really? Was the television, the boob tube, idiot box, really causing me stress and not the surreal relaxation that we expect from such brilliant and cleaver production of repetitive and cliched commercials that are interrupted by segments of shows? This, this is... disturbing! Here I was thinking television was something to do when you don't feel like doing anything! But, I definitely didn't feel like doing anything, so what happened? Am I flawed? Was I not doing it right? Did I break it?

Probably not so much.

I knew there were shows that make me want to poke my eyes and ears out, but I was watching shows that I didn't mind so much or even liked. Now, don't get me wrong, I still off work due to injury and normally I work second shift, so I don't really watch a lot of television. I have followed series before, but I have seen more Friends, Seinfeld, Two and a Half Men and Raymond in the last two months than I ever did when the shows were on the air!

I decided to mediate on it, reflect on the feelings that arose both nights and I realized that I was irritated not by the television as much as I was irritated by my mind being stagnant; thoughts being suppressed or ignored. By sitting in silence I was able to "walk the dog"; let my mind be free for a while. I didn't realize an hour or two o television caused it to feel so pent up, but I have to say it is a lesson learned. I know I need a release, time to think, read, write, daydream; yet, I never would have guessed television would irritate me more than being at work for eight hours!

What is most fascinating about this whole experience is that I am even remotely surprised the television would have a negative effect on me! Silly me, I guess I am not as aware as I would like to be!

Yard Clippings In PLASTIC Bags?

I was out for a walk through West Branch on yet another beautiful Iowa spring afternoon when I came upon two people mowing a neighborhood lawn. I could tell by their peppiness and general conversation they were self employed. Gotta love entrepreneurship.

As I was thinking how great it was to see this man and woman working so hard for themselves, I was stopped in my tracks when the woman pulled the grass bag from the mower, reaches behind he back producing a black garbage bag and began putting the yard clippings into the bag!

Big deal? You see it all the time? What does it matter? Maybe I am being too sensitive? Sure, but let's look at what may have caused my "overreaction", shall we?

I can understand people like to bag their yard clippings. I can see when they stand on their front porch or look out the window admiring their yard they won't get any clippings stuck to their eyes. Wait, I guess I don't understand.

I do know too much excess of clippings cut and left on a yard can be damaging to the grass, cause dead spots leaving little windows of opportunity for weeds to sprout. Huh. Maybe I do understand. However, if properly maintained, the clippings can actually act as a natural weed killer as they fall in-between the grass blades, blocking sunlight from the weeds. Yep, I'm on the right track!

So, is it really necessary to bag your clippings? No, but to each their own. What causes me concern is what people do with these clippings, how they "dispose" of them.

When you bag your clippings, that being grass, something that would nurture and feed the very soil from which you cut it from in a PLASTIC garbage bag, you have done something rather, well, stupid. Garbage bags are PLASTIC, made from petroleum products. They do not degrade for hundreds, if not thousands of years!

What are their options? How else are they to dispose of such "heinous" waste? Well, there are many, like alternative yard waste bags, compost pile, mix them in with mulch or as mulch for a garden or flower bed, or just simply let the clippings fall back into the yard!

Iowa City has a program that uses bags made from recycled materials for yard waste; bags that actually biodegrade releasing the material back in to nature. Most communities have such programs and while the cost may be a little more than plastic, rest assured your clippings will not be in the land fill, still nestled in a plastic bag when your great-grandchildren die.

Creating a compost pile is another great ways to not only dispose of your clippings, but a great way to get relatively free fertilizer. Mix yard clippings with some dirt, occasional food waste, weeds and even small brush to generate rich, healthy fertilizer for your garden or flowers.

Depending on the size of your yard, you could use the clippings to stretch the effectiveness of existing mulch or even use it on its own as mulch. In a garden, place the clippings in piles in and around your plantings to help control weeds, or use in a flower bed for the same purpose.

And my favorite: let the clippings fall where they may. I don't like to weed my garden, so there is not much chance I will ever weed my lawn. Wait, maybe I should take my own advice and use the clippings in my wife's garden as it seems to grow more weeds than anything!

But it is also more than just that for me as I view my lawn is a wonder of nature, and I don't feel I need to have a perfectly manicured lawn to compensate for anything. I like to walk through my lawn, drive through my lawn when needed but mostly I enjoy it for the fact that is is not all just grass. I enjoy the tiny striped flowers, the bluebells and even the dandelions and the fact that my lawn is largely green.

Too often we try to control nature; when will we learn to live in harmony with nature?

Dreading the Return...

After my physical therapy appointment today, I realized I was beginning to feel like I am really making some improvement since surgery. I can actually bend my wrist quit a bit without wincing, or crying, and I can go longer with out my splint and be o.k. I even allowed myself to think that maybe there will not be any pain like I had before surgery after all. Maybe.

Then it hit me: If I am feeling better, then that means I have to go back to work soon. Crap. I am not excited to go back. There are several people I have missed talking to, but I don't miss the job or the hospital at all. That and there are a few people that are just morons that I could go without ever seeing again, but its mostly the fact that I just don't like my job.

Get over it, right? Right. See, the problem is that you don't need anything more than a high school diploma to have this job and I wonder if some of my coworkers even have that. I went to school for psychology and elementary education, wanted to be a Psychologist, a School Psychologist actually. However, my dreams fell apart and I have been floating career wise for over a decade. Yes, over a decade. So, I guess to some extent I am lost.

But then surgery came and allowed me to do computer work, write my little heart out and read all at my leisure. It has been a glorious ten weeks; ten weeks of complete rejuvenation, liberation and joy. I was allowed time to pursue writing that I just haven't had all that much time for due to two jobs, renovating our house, yard work, dishes, laundry, shoveling, etc., etc. These are not excuses, believe me, but rather I have put my need for artistic expression way down the list as I feel it is incredibly selfish for me to take time out to write, draw or paint. Ridiculous, I know.

However, surgery permitted me to see how important writing is to me, how much I need it for so many reasons other than to "get published" or "make a career" out of it; it is so much more to me. Money is not the end goal here, but I also understand that if I am any good it will follow at some point. Well, at least I think that maybe what happens, but I tend not to think about that too much, or too often.

And now I am faced with heading back to a job that requires almost no thought on a daily basis, no real effort other than maintaining my sanity as the minutes creep by, almost standing still. I am not looking forward to the return of the mentality of feeling like such a huge underachiever, again. I think I was beginning to come to terms with that, but oh well, I guess.

Damn it.

I am not giving up. That is not an option.

Surprising Myself

Late last week, I was looking over a few posts I placed on HubPages.com and found it interesting that my writings that have to do with spirituality and Buddhist thought were well received, viewed more than I had expected. I began to think about my writing, my enjoyment in writing fiction, but also my efforts in non-fiction. I originally had begun to post non-fiction merely to write more, to get in the habit, the routine of setting aside time and getting to work. Maybe I need to rethink my goals, my dreams; maybe expand my horizons.

I allowed myself this freedom of thought and let it brood about my head as I love to do, and came up with the idea of writing a non-fiction work; perhaps a book. That's when the negative thoughts kicked in, as I had expected:

• A non-fiction book? Really?
  
• A non-fiction book from someone undecorated academically?
• Who do you think you are, thinking you can write a book, a non-fiction book, on such a diverse and detailed subject matter?
• Could someone who struggles as much as you do really think you could tell, advise anyone else on finding their path, their voice and the inner strength to allow themselves accept the freedom to think for themselves?
• What do you really have that would be new, or useful to anyone either beginning or on their journey? Anything?
  

Yeah. That's just the tip of the iceberg. However, I let the negative thoughts arise and accepted them as another perspective, my own inner Devil's Advocate. I can't say I didn't struggle with the shear volume of negative thoughts, but I did my best and even typed out some very basic notes in the midst of the storm on what I wanted to accomplish in a non-fiction work. What I produced surprised me a little, and helped calmed the Devil inside, allowing me to let the idea ferment even more over the last couple of days.

Tonight as I was watching something about Kilauea on PBS, I decided to see if I could generate chapter titles I could use as a guide, or a mini layout. Eight chapter titles emerged, slimming to seven, but something even better happened: I began to add notes to the chapter titles, beginning to build up my mini outline in to almost a full blown outline! I became optimistic about this project, thinking I might actually be able to pull it off, however, selling it to get published could be an entirely different beast. There is always self-publishing, I can't forget about all my options.

So, while there is a lot of work ahead of me I am excited by the idea. I have had a very trying, intense, and at times distressing journey thus far and I feel sharing my experiences and how I have been able to gain a more frequent centered self, and even have quick, fleeting moments of the closest thing I can call nirvana. It is a grand commitment and lot of work, at times seemingly impossible and at other times coming with little or no effort, but possible for all. It doesn't begin yesterday or tomorrow, all we truly have is this very moment; past and future are properly placed in correct perspective.

More notes on progress I am sure will follow on this "little" project.

Struggling With Meaninglessness

Today seems to be another day of struggle; a struggle against meaninglessness, the futility of existence, humanity's self inflated sense of importance, the possibility we are a fluke of randomness and our consciousness an even more of a remote fluke. These thoughts lead me to wonder why we are so needy for meaning, significance, divinity and why humanity as a while is so unwilling to accept as a mere possibility there is nothing beyond this existence.

As always, I tend to come up with more questions; not that I expect to find an answers anymore.

When I first had these thoughts, I was distraught. Not even my dependency on alcohol could numb the existential despair. I slept less than normal, found the daily grind almost unbearable, felt as though I was going out of my mind and anxiety over facing my mortality. I had already felt insignificant as an underachiever, not living up to any "real" standards, failed relationships and fledgling status as an outcast among my friends. I was in somewhat of a tailspin, trying to find answers, desperately seeking the "truth"; if there is such a thing.

These thoughts seem to take over on days like today when I set forth on a new project (in this case a non-fiction book). It is a mechanism of avoidance, avoidance of potential failure for the most part; a strange rite of passage. While there are very few projects I undertake that will have an impact on humanity, or anyone for that matter, I still fight against that little voice in my head screaming "WHAT'S THE POINT?"

Perhaps it's not such a little voice after all, but it is not overpowering either.

These days, however, I am more prepared. Knowing this mindset will arise, I have gotten better at allowing myself to be with the existential thoughts and feelings, slowly watching as they fade away, giving way to a calm that settles out of the emotional storm. It causes no more despair than running late, if not less as I have excepted that the existential view is a reality that has validity, and a very real possibility that it is in fact the correct view.

However, even of it this is the correct view, I am still here and have this existence to experience. The relevance of meaning is, well, meaningless. I have accepted, to some extent, that I will and must create my own meaning in life. Or, more accurately, I am free to determine what is meaningful to me.

Most people would recognize this as their "life's work", their "passion", and some their "destiny". Me, I think of it as liberation to live, the freedom to enjoy the wonder that nature sets forth, the leisure to write and the pleasure of simply being.

This may need some more development...

Delusion of Insignificance

This is a little rough, and I will probably revise and expand it, but enjoy the beginnings:


As I was reviewing a few posts, reflecting on my negative state of mind as of late, I had a thought; shocker.

While I pondered on what precipitated this current fit of self deprecation, I thought back to my psych days. All the terms that could be used to describe the mindset I was experiencing popped in and out if my head: a low self-esteem, hopelessness, poor self image, depressed, bipolar, distorted sense of self, etc.

And as all these terms ran through my head, I wondered if figuring out an antonym would be a better approach. Then it happened. For some reason the term 'Delusions of Grandeur" popped in my head followed quickly by the term "Delusion of Insignificance." Fitting? Yes, very much so, but let me delve a little deeper.

The idea behind this term is out of a deep rooted feeling of having nothing to offer, being worthless, a definite underachiever; a failure. Hence the word 'insignificance'. This may seem incredibly harsh, and I know intellectually it is, but I am a wicked self critic. However, I have had many accomplishments, friends, a wife, house, job, many skills and talents. I know this, I really do, yet the sense of failure dominates.

The intellectual, rational aspect of my mind fights against the notions of failure, poking holes in the theory, the irrational thoughts; the 'Delusions'. My perception of insignificance is based on a belief, false belief; irrational thoughts. It is akin to a fantasy, a lack of accurately perceiving reality.

I have struggled with this for years, although when I can feel the onset approaching I can now, typically, ward off the worst of such a negative mindset. As my posts show, I am more successful at times than others.

But what is key is that I am aware; I am aware of the arising, I am aware of its being, I am aware I will not always be able to manage such feelings.

I am after all a mere mortal.

Nothing...

It's one of those days; nothing seems to stand out that interests me to write. Yet, here I am, hashing out some reflective thought on why that may be.

I do find it interesting that my posts related to Buddhist thought (taken from this blog) on HubPages.com have been fairly popular, which I am pleasantly surprised. I am happy they are bring read as they were great experiences I feel are worth sharing. Even as I read over them, proofreading, revising, I am brought back to that mindset.

I wonder, why does it still take so much effort sometimes to remain so mindful, at peace? The clarity, understanding, patience, compassion; yet it can be as hard to maintain as it is letting go of anger. Odd, I think.


Silly me.

The very answer is in that statement: the desire, the attachment. The desire to 'make it happen' instead of just being; trying to make anger go away verses being with anger is what makes it so hard.

Funny how the clarity and understanding I can find so elusive can be so surprising in its arising. Always a lesson to he learned; perhaps I am being more mindful more frequently than I am aware.

Kind of a riddle, I guess...

Maybe I need to figure out how to write some Buddhist fiction to share my limited insights; that would be great.

Why do I have to be on time?

I arrived at my doctor appointment this afternoon, in a slight rush as traffic held us up a little. I am the type of person who shows up five to ten minutes early, regardless the appointment type, and considering that things typically never move fast here at The University of Iowa Hospitals & Clinics, I try to get get here even earlier. So being right in time today caused a bit of irritation, and I rushed so fast from the parking ramp to get to the clinic, I almost left my wife behind.

Normally, a visit to the orthopedic clinic is a quick one for me by University standards, but after my mad dash to get checked in for my appointment I find that my doctor is running forty-five minutes behind; yes 45. I felt like an ass for rushing my wife, still do. I guess I get to be a typical patient today and wait. At any rate, I guess it was forty-five minutes to start writing this post, I guess!

Why am I writing about waiting at the doctor's office?
Get over it, right?
Everyone has to wait, big deal. That's just the way it is.

Well, it is a big deal, isn't it? I mean, isn't the while point of scheduling an appointment to agree for two parties to be in the same place at the SAME time? And what happens if you are late to a doctors appointment - you are either shit out of luck or they will try to "work you in" to their schedule that now has a gap in it since you were late.

Why is that acceptable? I understand stuff comes up, some patients need more attention, and sometimes time just goes by too quickly. However, why squeeze in the appointments, typically every fifteen minutes, if you can't keep the appointments?

Why is my time so much less important that it is okay for me to sit around and wait? Why is it okay for me to take time off of work for a fifteen minute appointment, yet I get to spend my vacation time waiting in a doctor's office on a beautiful spring day?

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my doctors. They are friendly, personable and good doctors. I understand it is not their fault they are forced to squeeze in thirty minutes of patient care in to fifteen; it's the system they limited by that Is broke. It's the bean counters and pencil pushers who decide how little time a doctor should spend with a patient. That is the root of the problem, no doubt. But, do these bean counters and pencil pushers realize what they are doing? Nope. And they won't until they fall ill, or a loved one, and have to come to repeated appointments and be forced to wait.

I must acknowledge this is not merely an issue in health care, but much more wide spread. This corporate mentality is damaging to not only patients/customers, but employees as well. How frantic were the nurses ribbing around today, trying to help the doctor keep/catch up? Too frantic. Why force all this stress on people, everyday?

Oh right: the almighty bottom line. Silly me.

Calm Mind, Yet Restless Sleep

I have been off from my 'day job' recovering from wrist surgery the past couple of months, and while the pain is more than I expected at this point, I have been making the most of my time; reading, writing, napping, walking and doing computer work. However, even having this relaxing and enjoyable stretch of life, I am still sleeping in spurts; maybe an hour or two at a time. Frustrating? Sure, but I have just gotten used to it at this point.

Why would anyone just accept crappy sleep? The dreams. I have vivid, crazy dreams that often lead me to awaken either talking or laughing. A couple examples: Beer Run dream and President Obama dream.

At any rate, we all know that a lack of sleep can make one a bit... irritable. I am very guilty of that; although I have learned through a lot of reflection that my tiredness is not anyone else's fault and I am in err to lash out at them. I am also aware this does not only apply to sleep, but I will stayed on task. It is too bad I did not learn this over twenty years ago as it would have saved my loved ones much headache.

So, I am tired often, but have finally grown enough to put it in perspective. A daily struggle to be sure, but getting easier as the days pass as well. I find that when I am tired, I no longer fight being tired anymore; I just let the tiredness be. I understand that unless sleep is an option, I can either live in the moment with tiredness or I can lose the moment and set my mind in the future looking ahead to sleep or set my mind in the past and regret not sleeping.

In knowing sleep will come in the near future, I have to be patient for that moment and make effort to be mindful of the present moment until then. Our greatest teachers are those who we do not recognize as teachers. For example, I have found that being tired makes you notice different sounds, smells, sensations; your pace is slower, your mind is slower. This is neither good or bad; it just is. Just like the tiredness. I often wonder instead of tiredness being a hindrance, if it is not merely another technique, method in developing awareness and cultivating compassion.

Not too sure tiredness can be a opportunity to foster mindfulness? Next time you are tired, go sit outside, shut off the TV or computer and let your sleepy mind just be. You will be surprised and pleased at what arises, and what doesn't. Don't forget to share the experience!

Yet, even after all of this insight, this mindset of accepting tiredness (among other things) I still sleep like crap. I am not looking for a cure or a solution, honestly, I feel I would lose something if I did! I just find it intriguing how I can be the most calm and centered as I have ever been, and still sleep like a paranoid schizophrenic!

I guess it just goes to show you how deeply ingrained habits can be after years and years; but if I can overcome alcohol, I think I can overcome crappy sleep.

Aaarrrrgggg...

I think I have reached my limit. I think I am to the point that I am either going to start biting off heads or just not talk. Quite frankly, neither of those options sounds appealing to me.

And what, pray tell, am I talking about? I am tired of trying to say something and be cut off in mid sentence. I am tired of being asked a question and while answering, being cut off, interrupted or talked over. I am tired of telling a story and being snapped at or, again, cut off before I finish my thought. I am tired of having to fight to be able to uphold my end of an allegedly two way conversation.

And by whom do I feel so frustrated? My family, in-laws, physical therapist, coworkers, clients... Could it be me? Sure, I could accept that, but during most conversations? But let me lay out my thoughts to help you understand what I am thinking.

Do I have anything important to say? Probably not anymore than the next person, but casual conversation rarely necessitates one to say anything important. But I do have thoughts, feelings and questions about the topic, of you don't want me to say anything, you're best off not talking to me as I perceive conversation as a two way street.

Do I have incredible stories to tell? Again, probably not anymore than the next person, but I do have stories about my experience in life - JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. I have never been good at small talk, but I make the best effort I can. Yet, if I have to listen to the recap of your day, complaints and giggles alike, why don't you have to listen to my boring ass stories?

Do I have interests on subjects most people don't? Yep. But that doesn't mean my stories, thoughts or ideas are any less valid because either you don't understand what I am talking about or you don't care about the subject. If I don't care about what your story I still try to be empathetic towards you, but not necessarily your drama. If I don't understand, I ask questions; I don't say 'whatever' or just ignore what you are saying (unless is it the same thing over and over).

So, while I don't enjoy small talk type conversation for the most part, I do understand the ground rules. Maybe I am frustrated by those who prefer an A conversation verses an A-B conversation. I like to be talked to, not talked at. I find even less interest in that than chit-chat itself.

And then I arrive at this thought: If people don't want to listen to what I say, what the hell makes me think they will really want to read what I write?

I guess it is a good thing 90% of why I write is of intrinsic value.

Ditching the Community...

So, I got rather irritated last night as I wanted to discuss a book on the WD Community site, The Art Of War For Writers. I bought the book as I was curious about its structure, but more because I was interested to gain insight into a published author's perspective on writing. I felt it would be interesting to read, if not at least for entertainment value.

I was met by responses form a couple members that I took as insulting. They told me that I could not "buy a magic key to writing"; that such books were written "by hacks to pander to the masses"; that "the way to write better is to write". No shit.

While I understood what they were getting at, or at least I was trying to keep an open mind, their responses were so uppity, arrogant, it rather pissed me off and for several reasons.

First of all, I love to learn. Reading a variety of information is a good way to exercise my brain. Now, if the book sucks, I will study it to figure out why I think it sucks, what I would do different and what I would not do.

Second, why not look at books that aim to help writers? Are we all not in this to learn more and more to hone the craft? And yes, I know writing is the best, if not the only, way to get better at writing. Worse case scenario, read it to warn others to stay away, that it may do harm or at least is a waste of time.

Third, how is this book any different than the advice these two gave on the site? They are two of the most commenting members by far, telling everyone else how good they are with sprinkles of feedback mixed in, of course. The very site they seem to monitor is no different than said book. It it another tool to help refocus, recharge the weary art of writing. There was a hint of resentment from the two, who had one published novel between them, I believe. And from what I read, nothing to pass along, just pass.

Last, this was suppose to be a site of support, a community, a place where we could not only share our work, but ideas and conversation. I guess not. It quickly reminded me of an AOL chat room gone bad.

Sure, I sought a dialogue; but I felt I received put-downs instead. So, after several exchanges, I decided this community was not something I really wanted to be a part of after all and deleted my account.

A bit hasty? Perhaps. However, I had been contemplating leaving anyway as I felt it wasn't really offering much in terms of a workshop environment as I had originally thought.

P-BO

It was another fantastic dream filled night; at least in the spurts of sleep I get through the night. The one dream that stands out the most was centered around P-BO (President Barack Obama). It's funny how it should be weeks later after seeing P-BO pass by in his motorcade that I would dream of interacting with him.

The dream started like most: I'm in a public place and my anxiety flares up. Then, I realize my surroundings are not familiar, yet not foreign, either. My curiosity takes over at that point and the anxiety fades away.


Begin dream:

I am walking along a city street eating a McDonald's Sausage McMuffin when I approach the corner; something I felt I did everyday. This morning, however, the corner was packed with people. I looked down the hill to my left wondering what parade was happening in San Francisco this early during the week. Then it hit me: what am I doing in San Francisco?

I shrugged it off and tried to fight my way through the crowd to get to my meeting; a meeting of which I had no idea what the meeting was about or who I was meeting. I finally reach the comer and am met by police barricades, police and what I took for Secret Service agents. I hesitated to jump the barricade, and my hesitation brought two Secret Service agents to me.

They asked what I was doing, where I was going and why was I trying to break the perimeter. I told them I was in my way to work and didn't want yo be held up by another parade. I then realized it wasn't a parade, apologized to the agents and asked what was really going on today.

They looked at each other, then at me as though I was either lying or really stupid. I assured them I was definitely stupid. The grabbed their ears and the larger bald man stepped closer to me and took hold of my shoulder.
"You'll stay with me for a few minutes," he said. "Understood?" There was nothing to misinterpret: he was still unsure about me. As a strange reflex I handed him my wallet and asked what was going on. And then it happened.

The motorcade came up the hill and there he was sitting in the back seat (just like it really happened). A quick wave and he was gone. Several support vehicles followed; I turned to the agent who was handing me back my wallet.

"That..." I began, "That was..."

"You really are that stupid," he said letting go of my shoulder and patted me on the back. "Have a good day, sir." and he was gone.

I stepped through the barricades, dazed and walked around the corner to what felt like my place of work.

The next thing I knew I was walking with a man, on my left, who dressed in a khaki jumpsuit and shackles. He was short, clean cut and had a mild demeanor. The shackles were on, but they were long; he could have run or grabbed me with ease.

Upon realizing this, I looked around at the buildings surrounding the plush courtyard we were strolling through, the relaxed feel of the facility. Federal prison, of course. Another place of which I would have no personal knowledge. But, again, it all felt normal.

As we walked, casually chatting, I realized that on my right was the President: Barack Obama. We were discussing about the recent trend of communities cutting teaching positions in areas all ready short on good, qualified teachers.

The President was listening intently to our conversation; we were some kind of authorities, experts in which he was seeking our council about... something; I couldn't tell if it was strictly education, or the economy in general. Either way, the President was taking our comments seriously as he walked with us without his jacket, no tie and sleeves rolled up. At one point in the conversation I felt as though it was in part a job interview with the President, as though he was looking to appoint me for some duty.

We approached a building with a revolving door, with rivets; it looked like the steel framework from an old school skyscraper, with glass. President Obama excused himself as he needed to use the restroom. The 'inmate' and I continued to discuss the education issues that were still trickling down from the economy and current state of recovery.

We walked into the revolving door, together. After all, he was an inmate and I was his CO; at least that is what I was feeling, anyway. The inmate and I made our way through the huge old hallway (it reminded me of the buildings on the University of Iowa Pentacrest) to the bathroom; the old, locker room feeling bathroom with the old semi-circle wash basins the sprayed water from a ring when you stepped on the lever.

President Obama was coming out of a stall as the inmate went in; I could see him from the shoulders up the stall walls were so short. I went to the wash basin and began to was my face, freshen up, as President Obama made he way to the basin as well, my nerves flared a bit. I heard the clanking of his belt as he tucked his shirt in to his pants when he called out "Oh crap!"

Startled, I reacted to his response as I never expected him to use such terminology and saw he was fumbling to catch his watch after his band broke. Mind you, he had not finished fastening his pants and a swatch of his boxers was showing. They were the same as a pair I owned. My nerves fled. We were just two guys in the bathroom in a public building.

I chuckled a little and continued to freshen up and President Obama laughed as well. "Michelle wouldn't be too happy if I lost my watch in the toilet!" he said as he shoved the watch pieces in his pocket.


End dream.


I would love to add more of the dialogue from the dream as well as edit it to be more in the active voice.

I guess I remember more details than I give myself credit for as this is a rather long post, and I even skimped on the dialogue!

Good times, good stuff.

Tuesday, Beautiful Tuesday

It is amazing how many consecutive beautiful days we have been having this spring here in Eastern Iowa. As I have been taking more walks this week, it is fun to see the trees fill, the grass shoot up and the blooming of so many flowers; intentional and not so intentional. Dandelions next to bluebells; lilac blooming next to a pine; clover amongst grass.

Today was no different as I walked through the neighborhood. Nearing the house, I came upon a yard that had incredibly tight packed clover growth. It made me laugh as I thought it was miniature clover, even for a Leprechaun! As I walked past the next yard, I saw a neatly manicured lawn. It made me stop and think about the vegetative difference between the neighboring yards, and what we miss out on naturally because society has set forth a picture perfect ideal of a lawn.

I let things grow in my yard; partly out of curiosity, but more so due to the awe and wonder the diversity of nature has in our tiny little half acre. My wife seems annoyed by my lawn care philosophy, but she tends to let it slide as she knows how much I enjoy the growth. Not to mention the oxygen.

I understand there are fertilizers, weed killers, seed and many other options to 'properly' care for one's lawn. However, for me it is more about living in harmony with nature; I don't feel the urge to have to control nature. I understand I have a civic duty to care for more public areas of my property, and I uphold those duties. But the rest of the yard is free, for the most part!

And perhaps I am misguided, uninformed or merely stuck in a phase. However, there have been over twenty different wild flowers bloom in our yard at various times of the year; at least six types of grass; a baker's dozen types of ferns; lilies, lilacs, goldenrod and on and on. All in just half an acre!

Now do you see why I love to let things just be, for the most part? Another season is upon us; old friends have begun to bloom, and new friends will surely surprise us!

Outdoor Work

Sitting at my netbook around noon, I looked outside and felt it was too nice of a day to be sitting in the couch; again. Computer work is rewarding and pays great, but there just are not a lot of perfect spring days in Iowa. So, I made a decision, designed plan and set the wheels in motion. I was headed outside.

First, I needed lunch. I didn't feel like making anything so I headed to McDonald's for a small picnic meal. Ten minutes later, I grabbed my netbook and the tv tray it sits on and took it out to the patio. Another trip inside for a folding chair, hooking up the iPod to the stereo, and opening a couple windows.

As I sat down for my working lunch, I tested my internet connection and continued on my way. Great music flowing out the window, warm sun on my feet, revamping of a program, birds and squirrels rummaging through the unmulched leaves and the neighbor's cat carrying a dead baby rabbit through my yard.

Sitting there, feeling so free, I wondered if it could be any better than this? Not really.

I worked away for a few hours, even did some remote tech support on my netbook for my dad. It was then that I decided I could really get used to this life style. Being able to do a project of my choosing sitting outside was wonderful.

I just might have to work in making this my lifestyle. Granted, I would be considered a fledgling developer at best, but you gave to start somewhere, right? I don't really seek out clients, mostly because of time constraints; however, what if I really decided to make the time?What if I decided to make a career move? Would it really be possible?

I am not sure, but I think I would be silly to not look in to my options.

I'm Tired... GET OVER IT!

I'm tired today. I have been tired all day; not really sure why, but it did result in a thirty minute nap that actually lasted ninety. Does it matter that I slept away an "extra" hour? Nope, not really, but I did have a lot if computer work to get done today, which ended up giving way to lunch with dad, physical therapy and the aforementioned nap. And this evening has not been challenging by any means; tech support on the wife's laptop; scan here, defrag there. Nothing much at all, but it almost led to a 10pm nap.

Why am I rambling on about being tired? Good question, but I do have an answer of sorts, I guess. Rambling... or is babbling more accurate?

Anyway, my tiredness has left me feeling as though I don't have it in me to write much of anything tonight. No thoughts or ideas? Not really. Reflecting on the day that has passed I realized my state of mindfulness carried over from yesterday and I heard, saw and smelled a lot of good fodder for my imagination: the odd group in the physical therapy waiting area discussing the down payment on a new trailer coming from his mom's disability settlement; the fragrance from the flowering trees in bloom; the obese girls ahead of us at lunch, and the comfort my bed offered during a wonderful nap. A lot of things, good things happening around me.

As the evening wears on, I sit here struggling to motivate my self to write when it hits me: if I want to be a writer of any kind, I have to write even when I am tired! It will take a little more effort to focus, more effort to keep ideas flowing, just more effort; period.

Ug. Needless to say I felt instantly motivated to be better, to do more, to be a writer even though this entry sucks. Regardless, here I am, sharing yet another experience along the way. And with every few words that hit the page, it feels easier, smoother, even though this is not a great post. It feels good to know I can write even when I don't feel as though I can.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Afternoon of Mindfulness

I set out this afternoon to allow myself the guilty pleasure of going for a walk around my little village of West Branch out on the old rail line now a nature trail known as the Herbert Hoover Nature Trail.

With a copy of 'The Complete Short Stories of Mark Twain' in hand and my nifty new journal in my pocket, I set forth hoping to find a spot or two to read, and, maybe, even write. No iPod made this journey, believe it or not, but I was resolute to disconnect.

I have been making a more concerted effort to spend time hand writing entries, if even only journal entries. Well, not 'if even only journal' entries; all writing us good. This I would further understand as the day developed.

I walked north on the old rail line and enjoying the shift from all human noise giving way to the rustling trees, the singing frogs, the various bird songs. The breeze became a light wind as I moved our of town; glad it was at my back.

I approached the first bridge and stopped. The gurgling stream was soothing, building upon the relaxed state developing. I looked back towards town and the spot where I watched a ground hog slink back into his burrow. Glad I was being mindful.

I continued north and strolled more than walked. The sun was strong, but I didn't care; it had been some time. The path before me was empty, budding trees and popping undergrowth lined the way. Being so early in spring there were very few tiny flying insects; perfect for reading.

I reached the second bridge and decided to sit and read a little. I only made it through a couple stories before I felt moved to stand at write in my journal at the bridge. As my thoughts focused as I wrote, I became more relaxed and more aware of my surroundings. I stopped writing, put my journal back in my pocket and let myself enjoy the scenery; the babble of the creek, the swooping birds, the swishing of the wind flowing through the brush, the fresh smell of spring.

In the mud some ten yards in front of me I noticed tracks; good sized, probably deer. They came from the wooded area to the west, in front of me and turned back towards the woods. Several trees had fallen over the winter, over the creek. They didn't disrupt the flow of the creek, however. It didn't matter, everything was as it should be: it simply was.

I am not sure how long this lasted, but I felt nothing, or perhaps everything. I had been here before, this state of mind; this existence - serenity, peace, perhaps even nirvana. And then, it began to fade; I began to disconnect from it all, but not completely. I had a warm glow in my head, my heart. I was at peace.

I turned and began to walk back towards town. My fair skin was feeling the afternoon sun and it was probably best I head back. But that was ok, it was as it should be; I was as I should be. Nothing is more amazing than the very present, the very moment.

I wish I could maintain this state of mind, consciousness more often, longer periods of time. However, I understand it is an on going practice, and I am but a novice student.

The Buddha on PBS

I watched 'The Buddha' again on the PBS website and think I would love it if most everyone I knew would be willing to watch it at least once. But, I am by most opinions a heathen, sinner and have even been called a Satan worshiper by my Christian friends and family since my renouncement of Christianity.

I would be tainting their minds with such drivel as asking them to even try to understand what the Buddha taught five hundred years prior to the alleged incarnation of Christ in the form of Jesus. But that's okay. I do not feel I have to defend my ideas; ideas based on research and thrice as much introspection. I have done graduate work in Religious Studies as I love the interconnectedness of the human experience as manifested by the diverse and timeless traditions that have and still exist amount humanity.

I have studied the dharma, the teachings of Buddha for many years. In my initial learning, I realized how much it made sense to me more than my Catholic up bringing ever did, could. It falls in line with my own personal philosophies, beliefs in that people must be and ultimately are responsible for themselves. Plain and simple. I find it hard in life to label myself as anything other than a freethinker as I feel such labels lead to a closed mind, limited perspective and diminishes compassion.

I have read the scriptures of the new testament many times, and one thing I find consistent is my feeling, sensation as I read about the experiences of Jesus is how Buddhist his thoughts are. There are eighteen years unaccounted for in the life of Jesus. That's plenty of time for Jesus to travel to the east and learn the ways of the Buddha. I have held this conviction since the biography I wrote in third grade on Buddha. Yes, third grade. How I even knew about Siddhartha Gautama as a baptized Catholic child is still under scrutiny!

At any rate, I know many who read this will think this a flippant remark, but I assure you I have spent the better part of the past twenty years seeking answers. I look to the human experience for understanding, and religious experience is the most abundant source of understanding the psychology behind the human experience.

I have never felt more at peace than when I spend time reading and reflecting on Buddhist writings. It all makes perfect sense to me, yet I find it incredibly hard to maintain that peaceful mindset! As it should be. Life is the practice of the dharma; the capture is in the pursuit.

My wife: New iPod Touch Owner

After my jubilation over the iPad, my wife decided it was her turn to get a new toy. I wasn't going to argue since I got my netbook not too long ago. As we talked about her choices on the market, she knew she wanted something that could fit in her pocket, something she could take notes on, play music and carry photos. What else but the great iPod Touch would fit that description? Nothing. But, I wanted her to make an informed decision, and felt that could only happen after she played with an iPad.

We made our way to Best Buy and quickly we made our way to the iPad. Immediately she stated it was too big and she turned in hunt for the iPods. Ignoring my direction she sought out a staff member and was promptly directed to the location which I had tried to guide her. Nothing new; I am apparently easy to ignore.

Once there, she quickly surmised that she would need nothing bigger than 8GB. Perfect. $199 it was for the 3G, and we were out of there. My wife, the focused shopper, in and out in ten minutes.

We got home, downloaded iTunes and got her playing immediately. Now, I discovered that my iPod Touch is indeed a 1st gen so I was curious as to what the differences were between the two. External volume control, ability to play audio on the internal speaker and twice as much RAM. Also, the bodies are also different. The 3G is a touch slimmer and feels better in your hand. While this may not seem like a lot if difference, I assure you it had me itching for an upgrade.

At any rate, it is safe to say my wife isn't nearly as excited as I to have the new iPod around, but I think she likes it more than she will let on. I awoke yesterday to an email from her and I noticed the signature stated it was sent from an iPhone! She had been messing around with her new toy and figured out how to setup an email account! Good things. Still, she tells me she is not completely sold.

While I don't think she fully grasps what she will be able to use it for, she is on her way. I am trying not to overload her or push her, but it is nice to have something in common as simple as an iPod Touch to give us something new to discuss. Plus, it gives her a bit of insight in to my tech life a little, and it feels good she is a little curious as to what I do.

Day Two...

I find it peculiar that I don't know what to write as I sit here with my fancy new journal, pen hovering. Yet I have no problem picking up my iPod Touch and type away.

Why is this? I am not sure, so I decided to do a little introspection, see what pops up when I grab my journal.

The most noticeable feeling is similar to the resistance I feel when I just want to sketch/doodle in my sketchbook: as though it is a waste of paper and/or time. I have it in my, head for some reason, that if I am going use up this paper, this tree, it better be worth it in the end.

However, when others draw or write, I don't have this feeling. I don't worry they are 'destroying' a tree, that their work will not be worth the 'defacement'. I rather enjoy the results others produce from their efforts. I don't scream from the mountain top about the environment, conservation of resources or wasting if time. Only in my head, only to me.

I understand that art in any form is a process; a process that takes patience, diligence and lots of practice. There will be periods of steps forward, and steps backward, and periods of no movement what so ever.

So what exactly is my resistance? I am not totally sure, however, I believe it all comes back to not having enough faith in my own skills, thinking that I am just wasting my time, the time of others or any valuable resources. Also, I need to remind myself that a lot of paper is either made from something other than trees or from recycled materials.

I realize I need to allow myself the same liberties and rights I permit others to grow and develop. I am not wasting anything, but fine tuning, practicing, learning how to become better at writing. While I can intellectually understand what I am doing to myself, it isn't so easy to take that step forward quite yet.

New Leather Notebook

This afternoon I had some time to kill as my wife decided to go to the gym once we arrived in town. Yes, you read that right, my wife went to the gym; I don't do gyms.

Anyway, I walked the half mile or so to the Office Depot to mill around. I love to play with all the toys, electronic toys, to keep myself current on the latest models and technology on the market.

Today, I just wasn't feeling it so much. After playing around with a touchscreen PC for about twenty minutes, I realized there wasn't anything all that new. And no iPad.

I decided to look over their journals to see if they had anything sized either 4x6 or 5x7, and refillable. My wife and I had found a really cool 4x6 leather refillable journal at Barnes & Noble's, but they had no actual refills. Boo.

As I walked down the isle of day planners and calendars towards the journals, I was not optimistic as we had been keeping an eye out for the aforementioned ideal journal several months.

Needless to say I was pleasantly surprised today. I found a 5x7 tan Faux Leather journal sitting next to... actual refills for that exact journal! I almost danced a little jig as I snagged a journal and a refill. The fills are 256 55 lbs. ruled ivory pages with a ribbon marker! Absolutely wonderful find!

So, why am I so excited about a paper journal as I am typing on my fancy iPod Touch? (We all know I live this thing and not only for the ease of getting writing done and posted with the stroke of my mighty left thumb.) Anyone reading this who writes knows there is something ethereal about putting your pen to paper. It is a much more personal connection to your work; more intimate.

I know I write with more emotion on paper, at least. There are many journal entries I have tucked away that I will probably never share with anyone; they're just too personal. Regardless if I ever decide to completely bare my soul, those writings have allowed for opening myself to writing other things, exploring negative emotions, feelings, understanding different perspectives, and little by little help me continue to cultivate compassion.

Ultimately, though, it makes me feel more like a writer; an artist. I feel empowered, full of endless possibilities; each blank page holding the potential to capture in words the images, feelings in my head. The journal gives me the same feeling that my sketchbook generates, and that is a feeling that touches something very deep inside of me and produces only what I can describe as bliss.

iPad

So, I stopped in to Best Buy on my way to Target this afternoon to see if I could get my hands on the new iPad and play a little. I was pleasantly surprised to find Best Buy had four demo models laid out on the Apple table.

Time to answer the big question if was still an 'if' I'll get one?

As a great lover of my iPod Touch, I knew I was going to like the iPad, but I wasn't expecting to like it so much. It was lighter and thinner than I expected, and the picture quality was incredible. Since the OS is based on the OS for the iPhone & Touch, I was quickly flipping through various settings.

Once the initial awe faded a bit, I wondered if it would be something I would actually use, verses my perception of the iPad being just a larger iPhone.

I turned to the Notes app as I used to use that to write blog entries. (It looks like a tiny legal pad) In portrait mode it was identical to the iPhone, but so much better larger. The keyboard is decent, definitely easier to type on the the Touch! I then turned the iPad to landscape mode and loved how part of the left hand of the screen turns into a list of notes while the remainder of the screen was the note pad. Very slick. I didn't test the keyboard with two hands pending recovery, but it seemed just a touch smaller than my netbook keyboard; I'll adapt!

I was so excited I decided to login to my webmail and send my non-loving tech wife an email. Popped open Safari, type in my URL, login in to webmail. Ready.

Everything was working great until I tried to type the body of the message. If I could even get in the body area it wanted to type all capital letters, but I couldn't backspace/delete text either. I was kind of annoyed.

Granted, I wouldn't need to use webmail if I owned the iPad, but I still felt that has the potential to cause problems with other sites I frequent. Sometimes I have to login to a server and use a similar interface to fix minor emergencies, so that could be a problem. More testing needed...

Now the awe was fading more. Not deterred, I decided to open the Weather Channel app hoping for a bigger interface. Nope. It was the version in my pocket, and the app only filled as much of the screen as the size of an iPhone. 2x? Sure, but that causes image distortion. Another bummer, but not all that big a deal.

I then turned to Books app. That was cool. Granted there was only a few sample books with a few same pages, but the interface was crisp, the pages flipped nice with a slight swipe of the finger and it looked good in either portrait or landscape.

I will write more about the iPad over the next week or two as I am sure to go play with it several more times! Heck, I haven't even played a game on it yet!

There was one little odd thing I will mention last. I noticed is that when I typed ipad in to the iPad, it automatically changed the p to a capital; obviously this iPod Touch has a dictionary update coming... Hopefully with multitasking.

How exciting. Overall I am pretty sure the iPad went from a 'if' I'll get one to 'when'. I look forward to its evolution over the next year or so, but until then, I'll just have to make do with the mini version in my hand for now!

Or will I...

Wal-Mart

In a momentary lapse in judgment, my wife and I decided to head into town to pick up a few health & beauty aid items from Wal-Mart on a warm spring Saturday afternoon.

Normally, we hit Walter Mart later in the evening, if not in the middle of the night, to avoid the chaotic mess of people milling around the store with their great demeanor and well behaved offspring.

I get it. Wal-Mart has the disposable products I need at the best price. That is a given. And seeing these lower income packs so highly represented on Wal-Mart makes perfect sense. Walter saw a need and filled it.

But does the majority of the Wal-Mart clientele have to be so rude and inconsiderate of other people? They walk in front of you, stop in front of you, try to run you over; basically they act as though they own the store and you are causing an inconvenience by your mere existence.

Just because Wal-Mart allows anyone to feel as though they are better off financially than most (or more than they truly are) and can actually buy the "necessities" of life in bulk or at massive discount, doesn't mean they can treat others just like them with such disdain.

Yet, why am I surprised? We live in the Great Society of "It's all about me. All shall treat me accordingly, bitches". The Great Society that has created a social fame out of materialistic greed. He who dies with the most toys, wins, right? For the most part.

Regardless, I can't act as such. I say excuse me and thank you, pardon and please. I try to be considerate of others around me, strangers or not. Is it really that hard?

Apparently.



Kind of a pissy post, huh? Interesting...

Friday, Friday

Here we are on the eve of the first weekend of April already. Why does time seem to go so much more quickly with each passing year? Why is is that when we were younger, school drug along and summer seemed never ending? How, why, rather, does time become so fleeting?

I think most people would be inclined to believe this perception comes about due to the modern hectic lifestyle. Our lives become more and more busy as we form our families, steady our careers, pay bills, baseball practice, piano lessons, golf, mowing the lawn, shoveling the drive, holidays - and then we try to find time for ourselves!

It sure is hard to argue with that perception, but I find that I live my life near forty years of age more like my life merely twenty years ago! I am relatively carefree, adamant about private time write, draw, read, paint or just think. But, time has taught me a few things, bits of wisdom. I definitely have prioritizing my responsibilities: I hold down a shitty full time job with killer benefits to pay the bills and take care of me and my wife, as well as freelance computer programming for "extra" income!

Other bits of wisdom has taught me to make the most of whatever I am doing.

• When I am frustrated with my job, I turn it in to a opportunity to study human behavior; externally and internally.
• When driving, the radio is off and I usually let ideas become a verbal exercise.
• If I am standing in line, I watch how people stand, walk, talk and move in general.
• Also pay enough attention to the people who talk as though others don't exist. Try it sometime and you may end up with an opening line to a new scene or chapter!

Wow. As I am typing this I realize how much I am doing a day even though it feels as though I am relaxing and just enjoying the environment around me! I guess I am really busy, but it sure doesn't feel like work. And that's not a bad thing, right?

Maybe this realization should be a wake up call for me and drive me to figure out how to make a living doing that which I love to do: write!

Any suggestions?

iPod Touch Case

As you know from previous posts, I love my iPod Touch. I take it everywhere and without doubt would not know what to do with myself if it was lost or damaged. A protective case was an absolute much when I first bought this wonderful machine.

The first two cases I have had were fancy leather with flip open covers. Extra protection for the screen: check.

However, being off these past several weeks recovering, I became frustrated by the interference my case caused when typing. It came up and over the front enough that my thumb couldn't always hit the p, q, 1, 0, " and - buttons. Taking the Touch out of the case helped with reaching buttons, but having only the one hand (and thumb) the device is too slippery! Oh the drama, right?

So, I decided to try a case that was more of a shell or wrap, as the kids call them. Off to Best Buy we went in search of a new case, as I call them. I didn't care if there was a front cover as I wanted something that would let me type more than anything!

The wife and I tried seven (that's 7) different cases/shells/wraps and none of them fit right. And yes, we only tried the cases specified for the iPod Touch! They either were fairly loose, too big or so tight you couldn't even get them on the device! I was not adamant on a price range or brand, so we included an expensive and a cheap/clearance case. Still, we were denied.

Crap, I knew I'd just have to wait.

Today, the wait ended. A whole five grueling days.

I was meeting the wife for dinner and had some time to kill so I stopped in to the local Staples. I decided to see if they had any brands we hadn't tried at Best Buy. I grabbed the first case (XtremeMac's Tuffwrap) and what do you know. It fit, nice and snug!

After I placed the case on my Touch I left it on as I continued to browse to get a feel for the case. Let's just say I walked out of Staples like I often do the shoe store: an old case in the box and the new case on the device.

And as I type this entry I am amazed at the better grip, ease and Increased typing speed. At $25, I was a little hesitant, but not any more! It was well worth the money.

Warm up

I have found over the past couple of weeks I have been coming to this blog to write before I attempt writing any fiction. Why, I am not sure exactly, but maybe it has become a bit of a warm up.

That would be great if it warmed up enough to write something good afterwards.

I am beginning to wonder why I have hit a stretch of not such so good pieces. Not that I produce a lot of remotely decent pieces, but this stretch has felt sluggish, iffy, crappy.

Perhaps it has to do with a slight feeling of pressure from my efforts to make my writing more public. I love to write. The process, the grand challenge, the surprises that appear from the depths of my psyche.

But I feel my ideas, stories, characters are all weak lately. Am I trying too hard? Am I trying to write for someone other than myself?

Ah, yes. And there it is: my old friend Doubt. Kudos for ruffling my feathers while remaining in the shadows, dear Doubt. Tricky bastard.

I need to either find a way to ignore Doubt, or use him to my advantage. How I would do either is unknown, that being if I even could do either.

Man, what a crappy entry. Sorry for wasting your time.

Another month

As I sit here waiting to begin physical therapy for my wrist, I am pondering the possible consequences of having another month off from work.

Keep in mind that I am not thinking of negative consequences; perhaps these consequences may be more accurately described as opportunities.

I have several web sites that need need updates and new features, new sites to be developed and all the time I need/want to write! I have a book loaned to me that is a collection of short stories by Mark Twain, and unbelievably I have only read one story! (I am not sure what that is all about!)

At any rate, I truly feel excited to keep working on the projects I have been working on over the last month. Although most of my projects are not currently bringing in a lot of money (or any, for most), I haven't had this sense of accomplishment in along time.

Strange how that you love the most, that drives you, is rarely one's livelihood. I would love to change that, but I don't think just another four weeks is going to do it!

Undercover Boss

I was chilling out this evening and was about to jump on Netflix to watch a movie when Undercover Boss came on CBS.

I have seen this show once before and thought it was an interesting idea. Having worked jobs in which people who work at the corporate level have no idea how things function on a day to day (the front line), but are the ones who decide how those jobs are to be done.

Now, a lot of jobs just take hard work. Intrinsic motivation is the key to having excellent employees. While money is a necessity, there are people who work just as hard making $10/hr as they would making $14/hr. These are the people that can't help but give the minimum of 100%.

These are also the people who feel frustrated they are rarely thanked, acknowledged or promoted accordingly. However, when they are given credit, it is genuinely appreciated and often acts as a motivator, morale booster.

Sure, everyone could use a raise, a promotion and even a scholarship, but not everyone deserves such accolades. That is what I like about this show is it gives credit to those who don't expect it; they simply do their job, and do it well.

I have often wished I could do more for others I have worked with over the years, but until then, I'll just have to stay tuned!

Real Nonpartisan Healthcare Reform...

As our great nation passed a historic piece of legislation taking much needed action towards health care insurance reform, I have to admit as a registered Independent I am bothered by the brazen bipartisan nature of the passage.

I am by no means an expert, but I firmly believe in being informed and educated about what is happening to and in the world around me. I can not accept opinion based on ignorance, mine or any other opinion.

I have been reading and thinking about the new legislation, taking in the arguments for and against various aspects of the legislation and really trying to make sense of it all. A lot if it doesn't make sense, but not as bad as tax laws.

While I have a wonderful idea for real reform, a possible movement to be begun, let's take a quick look at the current legislation. (Please let me know if I am in factual error on any issue below)

Is the bill perfect?
No; readily admitted. There are many issues that were either omitted or altered beyond recognition. However, that is how it is in a democracy like ours. Everyone has to get something, you know, like in kindergarten.

Does the mandatory coverage make sense? Will it make health available to more Americans?
Not so much. At first glance, at least, it seems counter intuitive to force a cost upon people who can't afford said cost. However, if you look at how many small businesses will be able to take tax credits that will allow many to afford to offer coverage for the first time. Also, the exchanges that will be created will be basically federally subsidized individual coverage. Will this really create coverage for the approximately 30 million uninsured? I believe so, but, unfortunately, time will have to tell.

Is the elimination of pre-existing conditions long over due?
Absolutely. I have been uninsured, under-insured and now I am probably over-insured. Luckily, when I took my last job I received coverage and was accepted regardless any pre-existing conditions.
I have a twenty-one year old cousin who was just diagnosed in the last month with a heart condition that will require care for the rest of his life.
Unfortunately, he is not currently in school and not insured. What would the premiums be for him to get coverage, if he could even get coverage?
Luckily, I don't have to speculate now that the legislation has passed. People will be able to get coverage, reducing the financial burden off a sick individual so the can focus on healing, maintaining their health and do so with considerable less stress.

Is this a government take over?
Nope. Enough fear mongering. If the government were taking over health care insurance, there would be an elimination of competition; the government would be your only option.
What is happening is the government has created a social program that aims to use public funds to subsidize insurance premiums for Americans. The big insurance companies will still make their massive profits. What they don't pull from your pocketbook, they will be handed by the government.
Perhaps too high a price to pay?
I know I will be following the legislation progression to see what actually unfolds.

Now, you may have noticed I italicized insurance in the opening paragraph. This is important: This is INSURANCE reform for health care coverage, NOT HEALTH CARE reform. Exponential difference.

The legislation passage is a huge first step in the massive enterprise of health care. We have to allow people to have the insurance before we can address reform needed in the realm of health care facilities & professionals.

So after my mini lecture and opinionated take on the legislation, are you ready to hear my plan on the best and fastest way to ensure complete health care reform? Not just health care insurance reform, total health care reform.

The quickest and surest way to have complete health care reform is to no longer provide health insurance to any elected official.

• Make them pay their own premiums, that is if they can get coverage. Let them deal with pre-authorization on testing.
• Have them feel the frustration of paying high deductibles or being forced to pay a total bill due limitations in coverage.
• Let them sit for hours in a waiting room for hours because they are only permitted to visit certain doctors or doctor groups.

In short, make those reforming health care actually experience what they are reforming! It is a crazy and perhaps radical idea, but it seems to me to be the best method to have our lawmakers know what they are talking about due to experience, not some memo or debriefing.

I know, my 'solution' may seem like too simple an answer for such a complex issue. But I argue that if you are going to be making decisions on something, especially making laws, you need to understand any problem from a personal level as well as a intellectual level.

We need real reform for real people who are footing some, if not all of the bill, from their own pocket. They are not lucky enough to have the incredible coverage allotted to highly elected officials. These officials who receive some of the best coverage, at the cost of the tax payer, simply don't understand the average Americans' struggle.

My views may, and should, change as time rolls on, as pieces of the legislation take hold. However, I believe my view on revoking coverage for elected officials probably will not change!

Maybe a grassroots campaign is brewing...