Fear & Self-loathing In Laughlin

2 o’clock in the morning is not a time, 2 o’clock in the morning is an event. Scratch that, if you are awake until 2 o’clock in the morning it is a time, but if you are walking by a rancid sounding alarm clock at 2 o’clock in the morning it is an event. I hate 2 o’clock in the morning, as an event that is. At times I hate myself. It’s not all the time, mind you, but it does happen. Most of the time “I” I most associate with, the “Game Day” I, is a pretty great dude, but that opposite, less “I” me, the “Dumped On Your Birthday” I is insufferable to be around. No, I didn’t get dumped on my birthday – keep up, it gets better. Anyway, I (Game Day I)say all of this because I am just returning from a vacation from my life.

It was not pretty.

I am gone a lot, from home I mean. It forces me to think, to face myself alone every day. It is my life’s typical state…I spend 60-80 hours or more of my 70-80 waking hours in four wheel solitary confinement.

No self-loathing or any of that, just laying it out for you; putting it in context for later use.

Usually, I take a week or so to come out of my funk and face the world as game day me. Most of the time I just pretend, when I am not actually on. This time though, it was like flipping a switch. No – more like turning on a flashlight – bright and focused.

I am not going to lie though, this was a rough one. I had some lows that felt like the bottom of a coffee can, which as you know is the ninth circle of hell – a life sans coffee. I try desperately not to take out my morose self-loathing on my family, who is always wonderful about it, but it still slips from time to time.

When I get this way – hopeless, listless and generally depressed, solitude is prison sentence. As of this moment, I am not suffering from the death throws of these dark sensations. This is only sharing, so save the wordy heart felt emails for another time, thanks.

I feel, for one reason or another, that after any significant absence from Facets, that I owe you an explanation. Funny, that – it is my life that revolves around these words I write, not yours, yet I feel like I owe an explanation anyway. So there it is, and I may even be back to expand on it some more…or not.

The Intervening Years

Lots has happened in the intervening years between childhood and adulthood. I have sang and I have screamed, laughed and cried. There have been moments of triumph and joy, heartache and failure. Growing older does not however indicate growing up.

Not always anyhow.

I drove my son to school for the first time today. Interesting, he’s been in school for the last couple years but for some reason or another, mostly work, I have missed the opportunity to take him to that age old place of learning.

Today is my birthday, I guess that’s the only reason I needed to take a miniature vacation from the daily grind. Not that I’m celebrating getting older mind you, but it’s a great jumping off point for any sort of self reflection or decision making for the following year. The reason I mentioned taking my son to school, it’s because he reminded me of something special today. As I was driving off, he ran back to the truck and call to me. He said, “happy birthday dad and I love you.”

I want more opportunities to have moments like that in my life. Opportunities to share in tickle fights, wrestling, science projects, tears, and joy. They are so much more important than earning a paycheck. I would like to make it my job from now on to let my family know that they are more important than anything else I do.

That happy birthday from my son outside is red brick school was better than any gift I’ve gotten. I want to return it to him everyday with my love. There are going to be some big changes in my virtual world, so this is going to be the last post for a week or so. When I return, the game will have changed. Take care friends.

Insert Philosophical Title Here

Well, this is the third post that I’ve written today. Feeling good about the writing process on the whole. By feeling good, what I actually meant is that I feel like I’m a poop flinging orangutang today, incapable of a coherent thought. Don’t worry, this isn’t one of those pity parties. I’m actually in a fantastic mood, and I’m excited for the future. There is a lot to look forward to that I will not get into right now, shit’s happening homies, I can feel it.

There’s one part of the writing process that I can not do on the road, and that is editing. I can talk into a microphone until I’m blue in the face, I type about 60 wpm, but unless those words are correct on the screen, all of you kind folks read it and think to yourself, “Wow this asshole spells like a 1st grader.”

Rest assured, I do spell like a 1st grader. If it weren’t for Microsoft Word, I would be fucked. Anyway, that isn’t really what I wanted to talk about this morning. I want to talk about growth, more specifically growth as a grown up.

Do you feel that hollow place inside your chest? That nagging feeling within that you are not doing what you are supposed to do? I am very familiar with that feeling, it’s been I’ve been ignoring for 34 years or so. Scratch that, it’s the one I ignored until I realized it was right all along.

You may not realize it, but life tends to give you hints. The Bread crumbs left along the path show you the way. Funny thing is, they are not actually bread crumbs, or even actual hints, but your mind interpreting them as signals from the universe, or whatever you like to call it.

Your mind sees what he wants to always, I don’t think that one’s destiny is all that much different. Listen to your inner crazy person and take a risk, put yourself out there. Stand up for something, fall in love with something you love to do. This is your story, you are the hero.

You may ask yourself, “why does this guy always tell me what to do? Be the hero blah blah blah,” well I guess it’s because I realized that all the pain and sadness can not be undone by mere financial success alone. Without meaning, a life can feel like it’s not worth living. Find that reason why you are excited to get up in the morning, and I swear it will be worth it. Mark Twain said, “the two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

Believe that.

I swear this shit happens every year around my birthday. I know I’m usually pretty introspective, but the first week in February is always analytical to the max. I think in the last two days I have reregistered at NAU 10 times, submitted 3 essays to vice.com (which actually happened) and packed up my family and moved to Canada at least once.

Funny the writing thing was the only item on that list that was real.

Writing is like that friend in high school that always had a crush on you, but was too shy to say it. I put writing in the friend zone years ago thinking it couldn’t possibly feel the same way, but I was sure it did not think of me as someone who could belong. One day I woke up and realized that writing was there all along, ready to mend my broken heart when I put it out there to be let down.

The moral of the story is listening to the voices in your head, and that thing you like to do might just be the thing that you were meant to do. You are the bee’s knees dear reader. Every day baby.

My Life Version 2.0

My real life is such a contrast from my work life. I work in the shadows, and I live in the sun – at least, that is what it feels like at times. This feeling really makes it easy to appreciate home.

Some days go by without me uttering one single word, others, I do not shut up. Granted, those days I am talking to myself, or rather, to my Evernote, but in any case I do not shut my face hole all day.

Oh, but how I live for the weekends. To wake up when I want, to go where I want, and the wrestling. I wrestle tiny people from sun up, until they finally power down. They do not sleep, they simply cease to fight…until next time.

I am really trying to be the person I admire these days. I always admire those fathers who don’t ever seem worn out, that always have time to play with their kids. To be clear: I am not this dude. I am always tired, but I don’t have to let them know that.

My kids are awesome, and they deserve an awesome dad. Your kids are awesome, give them the best version of you. You will be glad you did.

FYI:

If you are reading the serialized novel Broken Glass , the next chapter should be available by Monday. Until next time friends.

Time Is Time

I am just coming out of a brain fog which is second to none. The flu season managed to get its hooks into me this year in a bad way so, I will do my best to make this stream of thought coherent. Thank you for your patience.

Anyone who says money does not matter to them is probably a liar. I know this, because I am one of those smug bastards.

I sit all high and mighty making statements like, “my decisions aren’t made with money in mind,” or, “I would rather be happy than wealthy.” These catchy one liners are in fact, at least partially, bullshit. True, finance is not my primary concern, but it is on my mind a lot.

I guess it is the corruption of the system that leaves such a bad taste in my mouth. Paper that is printed indefinately with no value but what we allow. It makes me sad that we, a population born on this planet have to pay to live on this planet.

But hell, what am I going to do about it? Short answer: nada.

I am going to continue selling my time to the highest bidder in hopes that one day, enough people like the things I say enough to give me paper to say them, well, in print anyway.

You may say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. 

Oh Mr. Lennon, how right you were.

So why does any of this gloomy shit matter? Well, what it comes down to for me anyway, is the decision of what you can live with. I used to think I could put up with anything for a decent salary. Turns out that is only true for a little while. After some time, I become sad and bitter, and I feel like my life is being wasted.

Is there any advice to be gleaned from this? Sure. Find your passion and run with it. Like I have said before, in five years you will be five years older anyway, so you may as well be working toward what you love in the mean time. Oh, and enjoy the ride…there are no refunds.

Image courtesy of belden.com

Gifts For A Future You

Forget the clock.

Forget that time is ticking away second by second. Instead, imagine that time is a river flowing forever onward to the sea of infinity. You are a duckling on the river of time. Just a soft fragile adorable little thing floating along towards forever.

Still with me? You smart mother fucker you . I knew I could count on your superior power of conceptualization. On that same train of thought, think about all the difficult things that you do, and how sometimes they may feel pointless.

Example: imagine that you are me.  You work out every single day, but the results that you see are less than speedy. You want to be fit right? You want to look good this summer! But the problem is, working out takes a long time, it’s hard, and you are not buff yet. You just look at what you perceive as your fat face in the mirror and sigh with discontent. Shitty.

Instead of thinking about what’s not happening yet, think of everything you do as a gift to your future self. If you stick with it long enough, you will step into that reality which is eventually going to be. You will become that person on the beach, or whatever your desire is, because time flows forward. It’s going to continue flowing forward whether you do the things that you’ve always dreamed of doing, or not.

Everything you do, both good and bad is a gift to a you that does not exist yet. Boom…

I already think you are great, it is me that I am learning to like. That is the change I would like to see in the world. A civilization of folks who are happy with who they are, planting seeds of change in the form of gifts to their future selves.

I’m getting all choked up just thinking about it. Don’t look at me! I get self conscious when I’m emotional…

Okay, all better now.

Moral of the story is:  no one is going to do any of it for you. So whether your goal is to be wealthy and successful in a conventional sense, or your goal is to be wealthy any less tangible sense such as in friends, or and personality, or in the love that you get from your children, or any other thing that strikes you that’s awesome. Wealth is not measured in dollars and cents. Period.

Wealth is measured in joy. In ecstatically jumping up and down over whatever makes you want to jump up and down. Weather choice for you is that Ben Affleck is the new Batman, or that your blog was viewed by people all over the world. It doesn’t matter what makes you happy man, just be happy.

And if you’ve got kids, let them know they can be whoever they want, not because it will make them rich but because it will make them happy.

Image courtesy of Imgarcade.com

My Precious

I have a bad habit, so much so, that even saying it’s a bad habit would make an understatement out of it. It’s more so  another addiction, one that I’m pretty sure most of us share. This vice is small, shiny, touchscreen, and hard to look away from. I am of course talking about that perfect techno Jesus that you carry in your palm – your smartphone.

A month or so ago my wife and I conducted an experiment in which we gave up all electronics for what we thought would be a week but only turned out to be a few days. If you like to read about it, click here.

What we learned in that few days, is that we are way, way to reliant on the information superhighway, social media, and that dirty mother fucker Google. No offense to Google, of course, since you know corporations are people and they have feelings, but that is a rant for another day.

So I hold my technological deity in my hand right now, I always seem to be holding it in my hand. It is precious to me. Sounds familiar?

In the world of JRR Tolkien lives a creature who is so consumed by his shiny precious, that he gives up his life in order to be consumed by it. In a lot of ways we are not unlike this golem, sacrificing our precious time to be consumed by our shiny objects.

I have no prescription to remedy this ailment friends, it is only an observation. I hope to learn from this observation, but try as I may, I cannot seem to put it down for longer than a few hours.

For this reason I pose an experiment for any of you to try with me. For one day, let’s say Saturday January 10, 2015 let’s not use our devices for anything but making phone calls…okay texting too. I would love to hear from anyone who takes part in this.  My contact information is here.

If you do not want to take part, I get it. I must confess, when my Megan asked me to go without my device for a week, like any true junky…I got angry.

Think About It

Thought is a powerful tool…obviously.  I mean if it were not for thought – namely ideas then we would not have wheels, starbucks, pornography, the iron maiden, or a host of other handy inventions developed throughout history. Thought itself is a kind of technology that allows ideas to take root in the material world or the popular imagination. We are literally creating reality.
What I am getting at is this:
What you think about matters!
It is very possible that your thoughts could give you a hint into what your true life’s ambition is. Take me for example. I spend all day driving around daydreaming about the lives of people I made up. It is my dream to bring them to life on the page. Their very existence across the either brings me joy.
I have a thought experiment for you dear reader. Today, tomorrow, or whenever you feel like it just be mindful of what you think about when not focusing on you day grind. Perhaps you are in touch with your dreams, if so, good for you. If you are not however,  maybe this little game will help shed some light on your innermost desires.

At War With My Former Self

I tried as hard as I could today not to share how little I have written since last I posted, but here I am – you pushy bastards. Today was about asking questions, not about resolving them which for the moment is okay. The problem is that I have written a great deal of the middle of this story, and the events that lead to the beginning. Aside from the first 1,000 words or so I have my work cut out for me. I am learning how to tie together loose ends. The big worry I have is that I will lose interest in the story even though Parker and Sam have captivated my imagination in ways no other characters have. They share a love that can be stopped by anything or anyone, perhaps even death but to know for sure you will have to wait and see.

Facets of You 6

Children are wonderful…Most of the time. Well, some of the time anyway. Okay fine–children are insane little people who can at times be the bane of your existence, but these little tyrants of your (in this case my) creation have the ability to transform you in a way that nothing else on this earth is capable.
Today is my youngest daughter’s 4th birthday, and from the moment of conception she has been a hand full. As I described in part one of this series, my wife was on strict bedrest with her and there was a very good chance she would not make it to term. We did all that we could to give her the best shot at life, and after an agonizing three trimesters for all of us, our beautiful baby entered this world.
No surprise to me, my wife had a bit of the baby blues (due to being consumed by the bed for over 9 months I’m sure) and a lot of the nightly attention the baby required fell to me. It was difficult to juggle both a demanding work schedule and the baby, but she was worth it and my wife deserved the rest.
As quickly as it all started, it quickly passed and we were left with an amazing little love. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I relished any moment I got to hold her close. It was not long though until things took a turn for our young family.
On one of the rare occasions my wife and I we able to go out on a date, we left our children with friends of ours and we went out for dinner and a movie. About half way through the flick, I got a call from our sitter telling us we needed to get there asap.
Upon arrival at their house we found our baby burning up with a fever. Out of nowhere it seemed she had come down with what appeared to be a cold. We were no stranger to fevers, so we took our kids home and gave the baby the medicine we had to treat her with. Hours later however, she had seemed to be worse and by midnight we were in the emergency room; she was having trouble breathing.
As luck would have it, the hospital in our small town was not equipped to treat such a small child for an ailment they could not identify, so we were transported to Las Vegas where the nearest children’s medical center was located. This is really where things get emotionally complicated.
As I described in previous parts of this series, we lost children  before our baby and it is clear to me looking back that neither of us ever really dealt with that, so I feel like the week we spent in that hospital room with our baby was the most distant we have ever been from her, for fear she would not make it. You see, we were so afraid that we would endure another loss we simply shut down–we both did. Not to say we were not there, we were just detached from the whole thing and this was palpable to anyone present. We looked on, as our baby struggled to breathe caressing her, but at the same time preparing for the worst. One day turned to two, and our fear deepened as the week flew by. It seemed so bleak, but by the end of day three she seemed to be doing better, though we were not out of the woods just yet. The next few days would dictate the future for our little one.
Thankfully so, by week’s end she made a full enough recovery to go home from what turned out to be RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) a virus that attacks the lungs of very small children. We did not she’d a tear for our baby until the drive home, when we finally expressed the fear we both shared, and our first night back home she slept between us cradled in my arms.
My youngest baby has shown me so much about what it is to be alive, and what it means to truly love someone.  Happy birthday Nova Lloraynne, you are one of the most wonderful children
I have ever known–even though you are a tyrant.