All Days Before Tomorrow

Tuesday morning. Sun is shining. View of the lake is beautiful. Deep, life giving blue. Fan remains motionless. Light is flashing. Few boats on the river. Aqueduct is flowing. Sun is shining bright on the water. Cars behind me are motoring as the day goes by. Morning rhythm is nice. Not a hurried time. Most commuters left early in the morning, around 5 and 6. Glad, I no longer do that. Three hours a day gone on the road, never to return back to me. Each day, each week. 15 hours gone per week to concrete. 60 hours a month seated in the Civic, given to Highway 14 and 101. 720 hours a year lost to a commute. Lost forever.

Can’t get back those times ever again. Funny, Stefanie asked if I was close to family, I said yeah, I’ve been making this more and more a priority. For several years, work was the high point, the Priority. Drove around Southern California. Morning to night, work. Open to close. Had no qualms. Had no regrets. Had all the time to give, not knowing what I gave up. Denial.

Now, it’s different. Qualms galore. Regrets of lost time. Sublimation, perhaps it was? Running from who I needed to become under the guise of more. . .more. . .more. This more cost me so much. Like hours on the road, never to say “I Love You.” Never to say “I am glad that you are my life.” Never to say. . .

My penance is done soon. I’ve done my time. Prayers have been sent. I’ve requested Forgiveness, expressed my desire.  Needed to make time for the next generation. Hopefully face time will bring people to my funeral. . . when that day comes. Figure, if I don’t take the time now, why would anyone want to come see me one last time. I can tell I’ve missed so much. Attended a few kids birthday parties and I know I lost so much, lost to the road. May not have the glorious church-filling ceremony one’s sees. However, I hope certain ones would attend. Hope is all I got.

Wanderlust is calling again. My inkling to explore, inkling to visit, inkling to see what was missed. The call from a distant is a whisper away. Getting louder though. Soon it will be a clarion call. Like Gabriel’s horn sounding.  Time is almost over. Times is about to begin. Shiva has done its thing. Brahma hopefully will create something nice again. I’ve been crucibled. Extraneous stuff burned away. Fires has burned on through and I hope to be better.  Back to basics again. My pyre has run its course. Time anew.

Cars pass by like the dots of time that make a line we call life. Many decision of this that and the other. Hoping it will get us where we need to be. Figure there is some purpose. Figure some reason for choosing what I’ve done. Deep grand gestures. Silent moments alone watching the sun shine on the lake. Listening to the cars behind me. Moments lost realizing what was missed. Trying to remember what was gained. 

All one can do is just be the moment now and hope that will be enough. Like lovers in the night, waking up the next morning. Sometime a morning coffee with a “Good morning.” Sometimes an apple with a note, saying “Had a great time.” Sometimes, an unexpected snowstorm that causes an airport shutdown.

Not too hot. A nice breezy day. Randall Henderson once said, in On Desert Trails, "The desert. . ."reveals its true character to those who come with courage, tolerance, and understanding. For those, the desert holds rare gifts."  There is something about living in the AV in the morning. A moment of pause, a time to reflect.

Watching the aqueduct flow now. Man-made river. Not a real river, like the Colorado, or Inez. A river nonetheless.  Can’t step in the same river twice. Water moving, always moving.  A place to run. A place to chase after the sun. A place to sit and reflect, catching a fish or two. Walking, with one’s thought of memories made

Alas, the SLK to my left has decided to re-join the flow. Decided to get up and go. Decided to leave worries, regrets, and qualms. They go by. Racing with the big wheelers, trucks, and others. Each having a purpose, a journey to explore. Not knowing where to go. Not knowing what to do. Can’t help think of the eosinophille, the WBC, basophile, getting on the artery. Times clumped together with family and friend. Memories made. Biochemical packages of our most cherished.  Can’t keep the stuff we have here. It may be futile to try. Still, we do. 

Its not so bad. Could be worse. A lot worse. Could have missed out on love. Could have missed out on Family. Could have chosen the road well travelled. Could have never done. Could have slept in the car with my back to the sun. Could have never seen the lake and man-made river below. Could have just stayed locked in on the concrete artery of the 14. Driving mindlessly to an existence of lackluster memories.

Still, its time to journey again. Do my SLK and get back on the road again. This two year pause has been a journey itself. Healing is done. Choices anew. Maybe the sun will shine on me again. I miss its warmth. Maybe, I will say “I Love You” again. Maybe I will say, “I am glad you are in my life.” Maybe I will say what needs to be said. Hopefully, I will do it better this times. With Bigger Regrets, With Bigger Qualms, With Bigger Smiles. With Bigger Sighs. To do again, what I will most regret and will not forget. Such is Life, for I am better for it.

Desert

Going to Da-Ville. Going to get some gas. Spending the night at 92392. Used to live in the Daville when I first moved out. Moved with my baby’s mom. Found out some things about myself.

Gas: Follow Directions

Some people. Putting gas, one must follow the directions.  The nozzle goes into the hole. However, before putting in the hole. One must open the gas cover first. Then put in the nozzle. Sorry, I thought it was clear. Guess the picture on the screen was not that clear. Hmmmm, remove nozzle, Push grade of fuel. Squeeze handle until no more gas is transferred. Return nozzle to dispenser. Close gas cover.

Angry Switch

One thing I learned is that people go at different pace. I will admit that I am one of them. Its hard at times to be a little sarcastic. Not for me I can be sarcastic at the flip of a switch. At times, I feel like Bruce Banner. Ed Norton played him last movie. Eric Bana before him. Before him Bill Bixby. “You won’t like when you get me angry.”

Need Perspective

Being Victorville I found out some ugly things about myself. Stuff, that I am not very proud of. Never hit someone out of anger in a long time. Broke some furniture. Put some holes in the walls. Learned that an onslaught of angry, unprovoked, unwarranted attacks burns my hide. Learned firsthand displaced anger and transference. Took some time to let someone’s anger wash over me and that I didn’t need to own it.

Nothing Else, but Listen

Something about living in a desert. There is something basic. Some thing about being alone with the Joshua trees and tumbleweeds. A good time for introspection. Time to listen to the voices in your head. You hear what is bothering and what makes you happy. You are away from the tv, radio, and endless chatter. It forces you to listen to your voice, your inner voice. You walk and think. You hear the lessons your parents and grandparents give you. You hear their words of wisdom and then apply to your own situation.

Survive

Being in the introspective. Getting that distance you get to see the big picture. Driving and leaving in the desert you realize what basic things you need. Not the baggage of stuff to weigh you down. You need food, water, air, family, friends.

Others Before

Many historical and religious figures had spent a many nights in the desert. INRI spent forty days tempted by the fallen one. The Prophet also spent time with Kadija in the desert. The chosen one spent 40 years roaming.

Read in a book on writing the symbolism of arid land. “Coming out of the desert. . .” the weary traveler was stronger, wiser, more devoted. Dune. Wrath of Khan. Reaching, I know. Sorry.

Truths Revealed

Spending time in the desert we learn many a things. At times, ugly. At times, more beautiful. At times, you make friends with a Joshua tree.  Truth is. . .there are things to learn in the place where you at. At the beach, I get recharged. Re-invigorated. When I go to the city, my explorative instincts turn high. When I farmers market or museum, I spend hours just marveling the creations people produce. All an expression. When I desert? I get down to basics. I take time to reflect. I take time to take in the lessons learned.

Night, Night Now

Well, last night’s adventure and this morning early departure got me on low. Eyelids are heavy. Breakfast is taking the energy from the gray matter and turning on the Alpha adrenergic receptors of Renal Cutaneous and Gastrointestinal tract. Blood has to go where its needed most. Write you later.