Dear Reader,

I apologize for the delay.

Life has felt like one long interlude lately. Not just lately, but nearly every day. I’ve spent most of my waking moments pondering when “the next good thing” will happen – as if all I have to do is wait for the inspiration to live life again will come, but only if I’m patient. In a way, I suppose that is true. But it can’t be that easy, can it?

I’m still processing how I define myself and still concern myself with the opinions of others. Ever since I started this blog, journal, whatever you want to call it, I thought that I was finding the answers. But, truthfully, I have been looking in the wrong place. For me, knowledge truly is power. I sought to learn about psychology, existentialism, interpersonal relationship building, and many other subjects. I submerged myself in self-help books, podcasts, and constant reflection into what it means to be a stable and confident individual.

So, to spend a considerable amount of free-time and feel like my efforts were fruitless was nothing short of heartbreaking. However, there is a point where you can have too much introspection and be too mindful.

I built my own prison.

It was a multifaceted, iron-willed trap that I found myself confined in – created by my constant need for answers, acknowledgement, and self-fulfilling prophecies. It seems at most times like I’m here to stay, especially when I act as my own guards, warden, and cell block snitch. Anytime I felt like I was getting somewhere, I would self-check into oblivion. I mean scorched earth. The only thing that I would allow out into the world would be nothing short of a genuine article, arbiter of men, and haven to the lost. Well, that doesn’t seem to be coming anytime soon, so back in the 5×5. But this is a positive blog, so here is the other side of the coin.

Looking at what I have become is both astonishing and a bit disappointing, in their own respects. However, I’m also relieved to see what actual change has occurred. It has been a humbling experience realizing that I had no idea who I really am – in a big way. I’m still learning and it is exhilarating and terrifying.

Feeling broken and unsure, I confided in my father about where I was at. He took a moment to take in my reluctant description – what it felt like being in the wandering position that I have been traveling in. I described life as a constantly alternating state between a world in color and a sticky gray patina that lingers into the following day.

Now, I want to talk about my dad here.

He is an icon. I don’t talk about him as much as I probably should, but that’s because everyone seems to know him. He’s the guy. He is the boss – my friends refer to him as “the admiral” – a loving nickname, but the only ship he has commanded is his relation-ship with my mom. They’re still together. Lucky me.

He’s actually a retired engineer, but busier than he was while working. The dude volunteers with every scouting organization under the sun, heads several different committees, re-wrote the books on safety in a lot of ways, and still manages to work on his dozens of hobbies.

Mom is furious with him at times about it and I worry about his health, but he doesn’t care. He’s superhuman. Untouchable.

Because in the back of my family’s collective mindset, my dad is doing Good. See that back there? Capital “G”. He is the genuine article. The man that I thought that I despised when I was a buttfaced teenager, is the man that I hope to become.

He is the one that got me interested in the outdoors, computers, appreciating art, and trying new and alien things. So what he told me, you have to understand, was like water to a dying man.

“You don’t need to be concerned with who you ‘used to be’ – you are still that person. If you really wanted to, you can go back to being that person. But wouldn’t it be more interesting to find out who you will become?“

People need a melody and this has become mine.

My father – wise, but suddenly extremely human – smiled, clapped me on the shoulder, and went back to watching The Good Place (fun show btw).  What he had said to me opened my eyes to what has been the blind-spot for the last few years. I wanted to become something more. I purposefully took advances that I wasn’t ready for, to see how elegantly I could fail. I did all of the stuff that I thought was a mistake, because I wanted to see if I could do it at all. Some of it I couldn’t. Some of it I did, and did well too. Things are more interesting when they’re difficult. And believe me, I self-sabotage, so things are pretty interesting time to time.

I saw all encounters as an argument, when really it was only a dialogue on the different crossroads that we always seem to find ourselves in.

*

It sounds corny as hell, but I actually do stop to smell flowers now. And from it, I have found some pretty wonderful things. Did you know that in a neighborhood off of Redondo and Broadway, there is a street where you can walk through at sundown and hear a symphony play? Just as the sun sets, the first few plinks of a piano sounds, followed by the snaps of a drum kit, then whine of a violin, so forth and onward. Each home on that block seems to house musicians that all practice at the same time. Wonderful. Time to slow things down.

From slowing down and considering what I want to add to this small, messed up little world of ours, I keep remembering who I am, thinking of what I want to be able to do, and imagining what I want to become.

Warm Regards,

-M

PS: I apologize for the poor grammar and foul language, butfuckit. I can’t just can’t get enough of this beautiful life.

I suppose, once again, onward.