I was born to do it, my daddy had enough, so I put my back into it

Man, I'm having trouble getting this post off the ground. For reals. All signs are pointing to me not writing tonight, but I'm sticking around despite it all. I don't know why exactly, I really don't. What that means is this could be an absolute shit post or it could be a golden dewy meadow of magic and whimsy. We'll see.

Frankly, I'm surprised I've made it this far. Maybe, like an old, pure-hearted car, I just needed to rev the gas a bit. And awayyyyy we go! (My niece Colleen made me a Christmas card that had the line "Ho Ho Ho and away we go!" drawn on the front. The card was on our fridge for a while and every time I read that line, I chuckled in a mirthful sort of way. The inside of the card features a drawing of what appears to be an overhead depiction of a plate of gingerbread cookies. Of the seven, four of the cookies look like traditional gingerbread men; the remaining three are more detailed in appearance. One looks an awful lot like Colonel Sanders, but it might be Yukon Cornelius, which is more likely. We've also got a cookie that depicts either a girl in her nightgown in a flying posture or a ghost. I'm going with ghost. And then there's hippie girl cookie. Peace sign on the t-shirt, sunglasses to hide the red, marijuana heavy, eyes. Clearly a dirty, tree-hugging, drugged out hippie. I wonder what she was getting at with those characters. I bet even she doesn't know. Just for the record, but it should be obvious, Colleen is a child).

I was going to write about being an introvert but I'm not feeling it. The impulse to quit this post is strong, but I'll continue. Why? Because it's not good to cater to our whiny, lazy aspects. Or something like that.

Anyway

I'm listening to Bach's cello suites and, consequently, my focus and drive are increasing by the word; I may just make it through this post. I started out listening to Death Grips, which was cool, but, alas, too aggro, so I made the move to Bach.

My friend Kat posted "The Top 27 Problems Only Introverts Will Understand" on her FB page. I understood just about everything on that list all too well. The comment section was like a group therapy session. It's not easy being an introvert in a society that favors extroverts. I won't go as far to say we're maligned, but we're certainly misunderstood. Ah, but it's not that bad. I love being an introvert. There, I said it.

It was a busy week. I hung out with Amanda the other night at her new house near my work. It was good getting to know her husband and little boy a bit better. We had pizza for dinner and drank wine (the best I've ever had) and maybe some puffs. Amanda and I talked about various conspiracy theories and about people from a past, some lost to us, some still around. I'm happy for Amanda. She had some lean years and now she's in a much better situation. She deserves it. And so do I, son! I gotz to get paid!

Oh, look, I'm still here. And, if you don't mind me saying, this is turning out to be a smashing post, the type that wins an award. "Don't get cocky, kid", says my inner Han Solo.

In the preface of one of his books on meditation, Chogyam Trungpa suggests not embarking on a spiritual pursuit because once you begin, you can't turn back. I think he's correct, though it may be more apt to say I intuit that he's correct because my brain can't speak to the ineffable. Whatevs, the point is I've been at this for most of my adult life and it ain't always a tip toe through the tulips, but I can never go back. When Jack Kornfield first approached the Buddhist monk, Achaan Chah, about receiving instruction, he was asked if was willing to suffer greatly. The spiritual life has thorns.

But also the rose.

Ahh, the rose.

I meditate every day, I practice yoga. I fall asleep listening to an audio book of A Course In Miracles.I find it soothing and kind of neat and weird when I wake up at three in the morning to a voice saying things like

We look past dreams today, and recognize that we need no defense because we are created unassailable, without all thought or wish or dream in which attack has any meaning.

Every day I place emphasis on the spiritual pursuit. Sometimes I feel the benefits, sometimes I don't. I try to not be results oriented, though. It ain't about that. Not at all. 

If I can find it, I plan on picking up a copy of Ron Rege's  graphic novel, The Cartoon Utopia, which has been compared to Ram Dass's Be Here Now, but is clearly it's own thing . Looks interesting.

               

Well, puppies, now you can't get rid of me. Well, sure you can. I'm out of here. I'll meditate tonight, I'll work on some music. I may watch an episode of Boardwalk Empire or listen to some Big Three. I may read from a book, I may entertain fantastical thoughts. Who knows.

Coming up: A trip to New York, Rufus Wainwright live, TuneYards live, yoga instructor certification, lots of cash money, tons of steamy love making, perhaps more.

Anyway,

Peace