delicate scarring

If life is such a miracle then why do newborn babies look like three day old slow roasted peanuts? It's only after they've been cleaned up and get some shuteye that they start to look like the miniature treasures they are known to be. Newness is gorgeous, youth is briefly admirable, and in our culture we hold onto it for far too long.

We don't value age. Age is often treated as a failure. Old is even a synonym for tiresome. Vanity comes in the form of wigs, snoods, toupees, face lifts, lypo, vaginoplasty, and Botox injections. It's the texture of life that's interesting. Life shows itself in the cavernous depths of wrinkles, the sharpened peaks of a widow's, striking rivers of veins, and the harsh memories of scars. Walls that can talk have always been far more interesting to me. I would rather discover a patina finish or a pentimento surprise than get stuck with the emptiness of a life left breathless and sealed in its original collector's box.

Since I decided to undertake my own version of this '30 Day Challenge', I got to thinking about scars. It drew me to thoughts of lost limbs, adventurous accidents, and daring feats. At first glance nothing about me felt right for this challenge. I have been known to spend my time a bit too cautiously with nary a broken bone or traffic ticket to my name. But to me those are the obvious location of scars.

It's said that your body holds your history. All the heartache, every argument, every act of violence, and every time you stumbled into a wall drunk off your ass. If these rings of your theoretical tree could truly talk I wonder what would be said. We each have our zebra stripes, our unique design that tells the whole story. On the one hand we have the answer guide and the other shows our attempt to follow along, eternally painting outside the lines. Our paw print of sorts holds an ever-changing canvas, able to express everything we could never voice.

first love

Everyone has a story about their first love. A tale about that one boy or girl for whom that very first spark of interest and longing sent off shock waves of pleasure through the pitter-pat place located somewhere between the left and right atrium and is suspiciously left off all of the scientific notations. Mine was a girl named Holly. We had many an interaction on the bus to and from kindergarten. She lived down the block from me. She had red hair and heterochromia iridum. That's about all I can recall, which is really the trouble with firsts of this nature. I remember far more about the girl I married in the first grade. But I don't know if literal firsts like this really count. I am happily not a literal person, as those who truly know me can attest.

That said, honestly, my first true love was music. It's the early passion that counts and the one that truly had an impact. I was the only kid in my fourth grade class who had a music collection. I was the only one who knew from Jefferson Starship and Jefferson Airplane, who could tell you about the members of Fleetwood Mac, The Who, and Led Zeppelin. To keep things on balance, I was also the only kid bummed when Journey and Wham! broke up, and I owned the "Eye of the Tiger" single. I collected music anyway I could, whether it was buying tapes from Specs, Peaches, or Musicland, dubbing copies of records from the public library, or taping Casey Kasem off the radio. Movie soundtracks were always a good way to discover a cross-section of music one might not otherwise become exposed. I was rabid about music, to the point of losing the privilege of my music for a week because my mom caught me listening instead of going to school one late Tuesday morning.

I also used to play-pause-play, stop-play-rewind, et al to hear and write down lyrics to songs whose album's liner notes were left wanting. I also began writing my own songs at a young age. To me, I hit all the marks of a hit song: repetitive chorus, bridge, a couple of verses, guitar or drum solo. Long gone are my actual recordings of these hackneyed gems. Lip syncing and air guitar before patient friend's mothers, joining school band, and trying my hand at a few extracurricular instruments were all soon to follow.

I also spent some time drawing up entire album sleeves for fake acts whose greatest hits were many. A few years ago, these formative ideas returned to me upon taking the raw versions of these pics:

THEORETICAL ALBUM COVER:

THEORETICAL ALBUM BACK COVER:

iTunes, MP3 players, Pandora, Vh-1 classic, pop-up videos, satellite radio, karaoke, and Rock Band were created for people like me. Even though I am far more than a one trick pony, my trivia team always reserves the music categories for me. I have nearly 900 songs favorited on my iTunes, although it always seems small compared to my enthusiasm. For years I listened to hours of music collection informercials by Time Life and the like just to hear small snippets of many favorites and many forgotten ones. I am a sucker for music of varying genres. To me music needs no explanation, just the time to hear it. Music reminds people to love, to dance, to live. It condenses time and it passes the time.

Music is always on a constant shuffle in my life, to the point that my former father-in-law once wondered whether ever second of my life had a soundtrack. Certainly, I like the sounds of other things, the cacophony of life. I just think music conveys the best of them.

introduce yourself

introduce yourself
-Faith No More

'Introduce yourself,' or some variation therein has been a part of the job interview process for some time now. I believe it was added as part of the politically correct era, as the corporate world began to recognize that there might be individuals hiding behind all of those buzzwords. So often I have found myself faced with that question, whether during an interview or even as part of the slightly reworded social introduction, and I could feel all of the lumbar in my back steadily stopping its support of me.

Over time I have been through one existential crisis after another. Perhaps I can blame my parents for using the well-worn 'who do you think you are' phrase on me so many times during my youth. Or maybe it's the inner conflict I have had between my dreams and my reality that are to blame. Frequently I have had misgivings about the query itself. It is a loaded time bomb and one that I have been tampering with in this blog and my other writings for many years.

One's identity comes pre-packaged with dispositions generations long and genetic code that designates what the key fight will be in your life, add to that a heaping helping of concepts of nurture and first foundations of how to relate and interact with others, and then throw in the wants and needs that arrive lickety split from the photo negative of that life you begin to lead. It all has varying shades, but the main color is that of the human animal.

I am human and I need to be loved.

Even though I have had a love-hate relationship with Morrissey fans and that moody web they weave, I can fully relate to this concept. Everything comes back to love - or more specifically, passion. I would dare say that I am, or at least strive to be, a passionate person. I have been told I wear it in my gaze and have been known to make people uncomfortable with the intensity of my eye contact. With varying results I have always been a person who stepped wholeheartedly down many roads rarely taken, giving my all until my heart wears of it and seeks something else entirely.

retro fit

Alright, I'll play the game too.

meme n. A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

The internet overflows with so-called memes of one sort or another. Mostly it comes in the form of a simple duplicated process like changing one's networking site pic to the dictator you most resemble or the like. Recently one has insinuated itself onto myriad blogs. It's the '30 Day Challenge'. In some cases, it's purely photo focused and in others it suggests a blog subject - each running their course over thirty days or more likely thirty posts over a longer length of time.

Much like the antiquated game of telephone, subtle changes occur to on-line questionnaires and their brethren with continued rotation over time. Before deciding on a list, I scouted out a number of different sites to try and find the most interesting collection for myself, removing all references to Justin Bieber and the phrase 'dream cell phone' from the mix.

Then I put it on shuffle and here we are - left vague for a reason, leaving open the possibility for words, pictures, and my usual meandering:

(01) Introduce yourself
(02) Your first love
(03) One of your scars
(04) Moments that changed your life
(05) Lyrics that apply to your current situation
(06) You truly being yourself
(07) Your beliefs
(08) Your special someone
(09) Most stimulating thing you've learned this week
(10) Favorite smell
(11) Picture of you from your younger years
(12) Something that turns you on
(13) A movie that makes you cry
(14) Love
(15) Your last night out
(16) Favorite fruit
(17) 5 things you've lost & where they might be
(18) Picture of your handwriting
(19) Something you don't like
(20) Big purchase you'd make if you won the lottery
(21) Celebrity you'd like in your bed
(22) Something you bought from an adult store
(23) Your side of the bed
(24) Five things in reach of you right now
(25) List of songs that make you emotional
(26) Anything
(27) Photo of you from your last social event
(28) Something irrational that you think or do
(29) Song you want played at your funeral
(30) Your favorite place

(31+) Should any of the above fail to incite my interest when I broach them or if I tear through them and want more, these are my runner-ups:
[taking suggestions - come on, I'm spontaneous]

am i

AND THE THINGS YOU CAN'T REMEMBER
TELL THE THINGS YOU CAN'T FORGET
-Tom Waits (from Time, 1985)

People seek commonality and connection nearly as much as they look for ways to set themselves apart and appear like original molds. One of the best things in life seems to be the ability to change, evolve, and adapt. These are parts of our core construction. We look back, forward, and around us and respond to the same weather conditions differently depending on the hue of our mood ring.

Although I am contemplating one of those '30 Day Challenge' blogs as any follower of the communal stadium wave might, in the meantime I am going to resurrect an on-line personal survey I did about two years ago.

(1). I've come to realize that my chest-size . . .
THEN: is a seemingly irrelevant concept and deterred me from initially posting this questionnaire. But while we're on it, I've often thought myself too lanky.
NOW: is surprisingly adequate. I realize that this brings to question one's own self-esteem about their body, whether male or female. I actually feel good about myself in that regard these days.

(2). I've come to realize that my job . . .
THEN: is not located in this town.
NOW: is something that is ever-evolving, an accumulation of many differing things, and does not always pay very well, but often allows me to have an impact on people in some sense and that in itself is satisfying.

(3). I've come to realize that when I'm driving . . .
THEN: I am far more destination focused than I used to be.
NOW: I am in control and can really feel nearly twenty years experience shift through me.

(4). I've come to realize that I need . . .
THEN: more sunlight than I once thought.
NOW: a whole multitude of different things from life than I was getting before.

(5). I've come to realize that I have lost . . .
THEN: certain aspects of my personality along the way, whether out of age or necessity.
NOW: more than I previously thought possible, but feel what I have gained to be exponentially more significant.

(6). I've come to realize that I hate it when . . .
THEN: people hate.
NOW: people are lazy, pessimistic, and act entitled.

(7). I've come to realize that if I'm drunk . . .
THEN: I will speak my mind and act accordingly.
NOW: (tie) I'm more likely to feel it the next day. And I'm completely uninhibited.

(8). I've come to realize that money . . .
THEN: is only money and a bit of a trifle unless you need it, which is more often the case.
NOW: often comes at too high a price.

(9). I've come to realize that certain people . . .
THEN: never let themselves change and grow.
NOW: need to remain a part of the past, and fighting against this notion only causes harm.

(10). I've come to realize that I'll always . . .
THEN: find a way to be unexpected and in rare form.
NOW: be considered intense, weird, and any number of other often incorrect descriptions before people really get to know me.

(11). I've come to realize that my sibling(s) . . .
THEN: are distinctly different than myself, but still people with whom I would like to spend more time.
NOW: ebb and flow within my life could use a stronger current.

(12). I've come to realize that my mom . . .
THEN: could do well to not assume she knows everything and its nuance now and again.
NOW: needs someone to look up to.

(13). I've come to realize that my cell phone . . .
THEN: isn't active enough with calls from people I would like to chat with.
NOW: is still just a tool, and really a piece of crap compared to the models I sell on a daily basis.

(14). I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning . . .
THEN: I'd overslept and I didn't feel the least bit guilty about it.
NOW: the temperature might have been cold, but the company wasn't.

(15). I've come to realize that last night before I went to sleep . . .
THEN: there was no where else I would rather be.
NOW: balance, peace, and love fill my life these days.

(16). I've come to realize that right now I am thinking . . .
THEN: life could use more dancing.
NOW: a whole slew of things, many of which won't be shared today.

(17). I've come to realize that my dad . . .
THEN: will never be happy or resolved with all of his regrets.
NOW: doesn't know how to relinquish control and fears being seen as vulnerable.

(18). I've come to realize that when I get on Facebook . . .
THEN: I don't really know most of the people who are my 'friends' and something tells me in many cases I never will.
NOW: it doesn't feel like a time waster like it once did.

(19). I've come to realize that today . . .
THEN: I am present and accounted for.
NOW: is one year since I directed "Bug" and I really wish I had a play in the works this season.

(20). I've come to realize that tonight . . .
THEN: is all booked up, and I think I prefer it that way.
NOW: will flow just right.

(21). I've come to realize that tomorrow . . .
THEN: can be manifested, if I really want it to be.
NOW: is not determined, in detail at least, but I know I'm on the right road toward getting there.

(22). I've come to realize that I really want to . . .
THEN: be more open to possibilities.
NOW: keep letting go of what's not and fully embrace what is.

(23). I've come to realize that life . . .
THEN: is whatever you make it and however you perceive it.
NOW: offers more than one way out.

(24). I've come to realize that this weekend . . .
THEN: will be all about relaxation and fun - guilt-free.
NOW: will likely have good eating, hard work, hot sex, and pictures to prove it.

(25). I've come to realize that I am no longer . . .
THEN: as reserved as I used to be.
NOW: misunderstood.

(26). I've come to realize that my friends . . .
THEN: actually enjoy my company, which surprises me since I have been known to tire of it.
NOW: are an entirely different group of people than I would have expected, suggesting actually that you can't completely choose your friends either.

(27). I've come to realize that this year . . .
THEN: all bets are off.
NOW: has been one of my favorites so far, and I am foreseeing wonderful things in the future.

(28). I've come to realize that my ex . . .
THEN: is one of my best friends.
NOW: and I both have long roads to travel, in different directions, for now.

(29). I've come to realize that maybe I should . . .
THEN: find the time.
NOW: [pondering]....

(30). I've come to realize that I love . . .
THEN: much more unconditionally than I realized.
NOW: fully, completely, with ease and give mine to a woman who has recognized aspects of myself I thought no one could see.

(31). I've come to realize that I don't understand . . .
THEN: more than I do.
NOW: people who garner little or no enjoyment from anything yet still call it living.

(32). I've come to realize my past . . .
THEN: is gone. Mostly I remember the music.
NOW: (I'll keep it).

(33). I've come to realize that parties . . .
THEN: are a necessity to happy living.
NOW: can be made or broken by the music. And the people. And the food.

(34). I've come to realize that I'm totally terrified . . .
THEN: of giving up.
NOW: of fewer things than ever before.

(35). I've come to realize that my life . . .
THEN: is not even remotely what I thought it would be, but sometimes I think the surprises and unexpected twists and turns are really what make it all worthwhile.
NOW: is mine. I don't ever want to lose sight of that.

There it is.

An arc of the personal learning curve.

assemblage 34

I recently turned thirty-four. I remember a time long ago when I considered that old. It's equally intriguing to take another look at movies or shows from our youth and find ourselves older than the oldest primary characters. Age can be funny that way. Lately though, I've been in the mindset of the older I get, the younger I feel. It's a good place to be and I highly recommend finding your own version of it.

no return

Salted wisdom assures us we can never go home again. Yet Lassie made the trip, so did Dorothy, and the fifth little piggy too. RVs were seemingly invented to ensure folks they could skip the leaving all together.

For the past eight months I have been driving with that little fellow sitting on the console. Paper cranes are significant in many cultures, standing for any number of blessings, and they are a memorable part to me of a favorite "Northern Exposure" episode.

It draws my attention back to the concept of 'home'. Much like my inanimate travel companion, I think we want to have something that remains the same regardless the weather, our mood, or the shape of the relationships in our life. For better or worse, we have to take life on its own terms, as a warts and all Polaroid one chance type experience and not get taken in by the ease of fixing it all in post, as we do in our digital world.

Strange as it may seem, but I have looked at that tiny yellow piece of three-dimensional paper during the changing climates of these past months and realized that it sits there like a compass of sorts, always headed in the direction I am going without judgment.

It's nice to have that.

cosmic love

Since love grows within you, so beauty grows.
For love is the beauty of the soul.
-St. Augustine

Been beat up and battered 'round
Been sent up, and I've been shot down
You're the best thing that I've ever found
Handle me with care
-Traveling Wilburys

Humans always like to explain away all of the brilliance of intangibles.

I choose to give them metaphoric wings, because I view entities less as they are and more as they are when they associate with other things.

That said, love is a chemical reaction.

It might not look like much in a crucible, but then again the human body broken down to its finer elements is really only worth about twenty-four bucks, thus reminding us that life itself is indeed an intangible. That's two of the biggies. What is real then? What's concrete? Not faith. Not belief. Hardly thoughts, dreams, or ideas. Time is said to be fleeting and most clocks have stopped ticking. Supposedly God is dead, romance is dead, and punk is dead. The dollar has no value and humans have no souls.

Maybe.

But not for me, though.

Sometimes I feel like we all have our own little decoder rings, shining light for us on things that exist in our little corner of the world and are real for us. People are sometimes referred to as another person's 'rock', but of course that's putting weight on an intangible concept and not the truth. But perhaps we're not meant to see the same truth, but merely different particles of the same prism.

For some it's important to see mankind's ideal upright stature as humans overcome adversity. For others it is the hint of viewing the soul, passion, and beauty in other's eyes that fuels them. And for others still, they can just be comforted knowing there'll be another forest to be seen tomorrow morning.

bedside manor

operator, oh could you help me place this call
you see the number on the matchbook is old and faded
she’s livin’ in L.A.
with my best old ex-friend Ray
a guy she said she knew well and sometimes hated

isn’t that the way they say it goes ...

I once had a good friend.

He needed a couch to crash on and there were two in the seemingly empty house I briefly rattled around in, following the break-up last year. He came to stay and seemingly never left.

I don't often have close male friends. I can count on a broken hand how many have really mattered over time. I tend not to understand those fellows in my gender, so when I find someone with whom I can bond over coffee, beers, and such about whole bevies of things, I don't take it lightly.

He was often considered my doppelganger, although I would suspect it was less about odd similarities and more about the way the friendship seemed to flow like they seem to do in movies. It hardly surprises me that the last time we met up, the conversation flowed like it was the end of an era. But of course, a couple slices of bacon and four cups of coffee later, and I find myself stuck with a twenty dollar parking ticket. Talk about putting a nail in the coffin. Real friendships have no monetary value. Evidently, this wasn't one.

60/40 hindsight

Domesticated cats have a tendency toward doing things far more likened to their kitten counterparts. Supposedly this is because they are made domestic at such a young age and have no ability to develop the instinctual independence they would naturally find in the wild.

I have come to realize similar things about my marriage, now three months dissolved. It began at a premature age and would therefore always be limited by many parameters that caged it early on, despite growth in the individuals in it as well as any efforts made to fight against it. Lately I have been weeding through many old pictures. At times I barely recognize myself, so often hunched over and ill-fitting into even environs with high ceilings or no ceiling at all.

Cats are notoriously good at getting into cleverly tight spots, but aren't quite as deft at getting themselves back out. I feel there's something to that.

past participle

Often I will let slips of paper, jotted notes, and other such wallow away in the folds of my wallet. I ate a fortune cookie about two weeks ago, capping a wonderful meal of take-out Chinese. It told me, 'You should be able to undertake and complete anything'.

For as long as I can recall, I have saved these tiny slips of prophecy. Until recently I had a collection spanning about fifteen years worth of Asian outings, innings, and happenstance. They were a simple representation of a functional pessimist searching for something elusive and beyond his means. At times the secrets hidden inside the sweet treat would seem perhaps my only positive thought for the day.

Ever since I was very young I have struggled with intense bouts of depression, disappointment, reservation, and the presumption that I must be living someone else's life. Growing up I felt many times like an unwelcome visitor, having to earn his keep or quite literally be left at the side of road somewhere. A lot of my upbringing instilled in me this need to shy away from and hide all of my human qualities. I have had uncountable experiences over time when this life, this flesh, this reality felt too ill-fitting to be remotely real, as if I were the victim of Nicolas Cage's 'Face-off' or Sam Beckett's leapt into body of the week. It takes a lot of effort to fight back against that and to be far more who you are than everyone's designs upon you.

Eight months ago I got a job at the local airport. It was a miserably hot Florida day. The interview with the district manager went long, since he seemed to enjoy speaking with me so much. Afterward there was some volleying between different management types as to who would be offering me the position. Obviously I realized this was a very good thing, but there was a lot of unnecessary waiting involved. I kept making quiet glances at my cellphone, which kept clicking along past the point of no return. Since I live in a college town, everything revolves around campus and the sight of a city bus in the vicinity of the miniscule airport is but a drive-by every hour.

As mentioned previously, this job proved to be a short-lived purgatory that echoed of much of my past. The place was run by a female overlord with too much to prove and a fierce God complex, and who felt inclined to teach personality. The second in command was a weak-willed workaholic who spun around his constantly duplicated daily life with such precision and who in ways reminded me of my former father-in-law. The rest were just a sad lot who lived by a stifling script.

I can't.

Not anymore.

My current job had shown itself upon my life like some sort of glimmer of sunshine through dark clouds. The cattle call interview process seemed to peg me against high school kids and retirees. I am glad I held out, though, because most days I feel like I belong there. It taps into an interesting cross-section of facets of my knowledge, interests, and skill sets.

But everyday when I step away from the building, I know there's more to come, and change afoot. Sometimes I look up briefly and sometimes I breathe it in. Staring back at me, reflecting off my windshield as I put the car into gear, is the traffic light at the intersection of Main Street and 16th. As a veritable gypsy at heart and traveler deep in my soul, I know I am at the center of what's now and what's next, but more than ever 'here' feels like home.

And when I pass by
don't lead me astray
Don't try to stop me
Don't stand in my way
I'm bound for the hills
where cool waters flow
on this road that will take me home
-Mary Fahl, 'Going Home'

status update

I often think about the meta-existence that occurs in our internet culture which has really changed the nature of damn near everything. I have viewed again and again the way that people refer to things that are tucked away in some on-line interaction or region, how conversations can include virtual show and tell with multimedia displays from someone's Blackberry, or the way people may crosscheck a friend's 'knowledge' with a quick Google search. There's always someone else in the room, or to a point, there's always everyone else in the room. I'm reminded of a classic scene from Woody Allen's Annie Hall when a pretentious know-it-all is told off by scholar Marshall McLuhan while waiting in a movie theater lobby. 'Boy if only life were like this,' responds Alvy. Today we do one up one another with our instant access, but humans are flawed and life is imprecise.

I think of Facebook, yet again, and the familiar 'status update' that can be altered every second of everyday. It has since evolved into the more accurate 'what's on your mind'. I feel this turn of phrase is appropriate as we are far more connected to the entire flurry of thoughts and ideas we are inclined to share than we are to recognizing how we are really doing or the true state of our status. If it were accurate it would be like some sort of product testing or film screening audience card, constantly wavering between pleasure, displeasure, and innumerable feelings in between like some warped mood ring. It's unsafe for the relationships in our life to have the opportunity to tell all like that. I have seen passive aggression turn into vile aggression and disregard only to cave into backstabbing TMI.

That said, I am eternally an observer, whether toward others or most certainly of my own reflection. As another birthday approaches I again find myself getting reflective and into self-assessment, pondering my own status. Life is ever the Chutes and Ladder journey as we are knocked back by miscalculation yet able to triumph again by keeping on.

A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There's a woman on my lap and she's drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin's eyes
I'm looking up into the sapphire tinted skies
I'm well dressed, waiting on the last train

Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I'm expecting all hell to break loose

People are crazy and times are strange
I'm locked in tight, I'm out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

This place ain't doing me any good
I'm in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood
Just for a second there I thought I saw something move
Gonna take dancing lessons do the jitterbug rag
Ain't no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he's got anything to prove

Lot of water under the bridge, Lot of other stuff too
Don't get up gentlemen, I'm only passing through

sang Bob Dylan during the course of Wonder Boys, a favorite film (and novel) of mine. I had heard mumblings of it around its initial release, but I really encountered it after purchasing the DVD on a lark in a bargain bin of a video game store that sold dirt cheap DVDs. Oddly, for something so chaotic, the film has always comforted me. There's a retro feel in the style of the cinematography, an early 70's vibe in the soundtrack, a representation of my soul's home in its frigid northeast setting, and even a lost manner in the way the characters interact with one another. I can't completely put my finger on it, but I think what hits me most is the humanity of it all, allowing me to relate to every character on some distinct level.

As time has passed, I have found myself listening to the film's Dylan theme song and diving deeper and deeper into connection with it. I can feel it as a man who has been through an awful lot and has found a lot of life's answers in simply throwing caution to the wind. You can't get anywhere without taking risks and setting yourself up for vulnerability. You may find yourself waking up to an unfamiliar, changed world, but in it you might actually discover things you might have never imagined and in them what you had sought in the first place.

groundhog day

Today is February 2nd - Groundhog Day. I feel as if this particular holiday had completely no bearing on me for the first dozen or so years of my life. It was just one of those odd traditions that had little to do with me but instead some chubby animal I had never viewed in person. Then in 1993 Bill Murray and director Harold Ramis came rushing in with a film of the same name, altering the state of the holiday for many of us into humorous thoughts of repetitious insanity. It was quickly dubbed an instant classic. Since then I have even found myself 'celebrating' one or two of these holidays watching the flick.

An old friend of mine lives on the 'Lost' island in Hawaii. In this age of civilization referring to technological connection, for all intents and purposes she has cut herself off from it without a cell phone, a Facebook account, or an active email address. I don't even know her actual physical locale. Therefore, we haven't heard from one another in two or three years. A mutual friend of ours is traveling there next week, so he is bringing along a care package of trinkets and whatnot from her connections here in town.

A couple days ago I sat down to hand write her a letter. Even though so much has transpired during the time since we last spoke, somehow with pen in hand I was able to easily condense it all down to one and a half pages of some of the best prose I have written in some time. I hadn't written a letter in ages! There's something to be said for stepping away from the modern conveniences every now and then. In ways they do make the world easier and in some ways they simply make us lazy.

I think life is found in the cracks and crevices of everyday activity, but so often we overlook it. We have to focus attention on the smaller details in our worlds to really experience it. The old adage is completely true about taking time to smell the roses, although that's always just been an example. It's about breaking away from the mold of our everyday to really interact with our own existence. It can mean hand writing a card instead of mass producing a text, or walking a few blocks instead of driving there, or baking your own bread instead of picking up a loaf from the market, or even washing and drying your own dishes in lieu of always depending on the Whirlpool.

So here passes another Groundhog Day. Take some time today to step outside of yourself. Spend a few extra moments deepening your connection to your life. How does your shadow spread across the rest the earth? What does it say about where you're headed?