8 Aug

For the last couple of months, I have been spending all my spare time, hanging out in my apartment listening to music, watching my bigass tv and traveling the internet.

I love my apartment. When I first moved into it, I had no idea how long I would be able to keep it, since all I had was first, last and a month’s rent to spare. I was unemployed, over 50 and an emotional wreck. I also had tons of support from friends and two tiny black cats. I may not have any money in the bank but I have always been rich beyond words in friends and cats.

Nine or so years later and I am still in my sanctuary. A lot has happened here. The walls are filled with laughter, magick, sorrow, rebellion, perseverance, ecstasy, existential angst, dreams and, and, and.

I am trying to teach myself not to worry about losing things.

I am trying to relax in the knowledge that everything always works out for me. This is not to say that I always get exactly what I want, but the Universe has never dropped me once. And many times the Universe knew better than I did, what was good for me.

Today I am listening to some old favorites, Joni Mitchell (Ladies of the Canyons), Neil Young (After the Goldrush) and The Beatles (Magical Mystery Tour). It strikes me that there are a lot of similarities in the music I loved, still love and my new music loves.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that Billie Eilish sounds like Joni Mitchell or The Hu sound like The Who. And I don’t even know if I could describe what it is because it’s a quality in their creativity, the risks they take, the extreme musical contrasts in their songs.

I think I have mentioned before that my taste in music is extremely eclectic. And I am not exaggerating either the extreme or cultural diversity. If my adolescence taught me anything, it was that music is a miracle drug.

When I started this adventure in solitude, it was because the world was making me crazy. Reality like most things is a social construct. We create it. And there are many realities, all forged in the image of their creators. For the most part, I have always followed my own path but occasionally, when the mainstream seems compatible I’ll ride along, kind of what people do on highways with big trucks.

The thing is that doing that is dangerous because if you don’t pay attention you can get sucked in, lose control of your vehicle, and crash. So, in essence, I pulled off the road and parked the car.

I can’t change the reality, most of the world has chosen to believe in. But I can choose to believe in my own. I may not be able to convince anyone that we can kill the monsters by refusing to be afraid of them and by not coming out to play.

I may not be able to avoid the Orcs altogether but no one can make me engage.

I just finished reading a book called “The Chocolate Cake Sutra” by Geri Larkin, a Buddhist monk who founded a Zen meditation center in the middle of Detroit’s inner city. To say it resonated with me would be an understatement. I have been studying Buddhism and Taoism for a decade and this book is the schematic for creating my counter reality and repairing any cracks that may arise from the mainstream.

I don’t know how long I will remain socially cloistered, with the exception of extraordinary events, but so far it has been invaluable.

I am extremely grateful for the life that I have lived, exactly the way it unfolded.
I am grateful for both the friends that are in my life and the ones that no longer travel with me, and even the ones I threw out of my car or vice versa.
I am grateful for my job, it has given me a platform to find myself, my creativity and my humanity.

And I am grateful for this week off, which has nurtured the writer in me.



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