Miles of pavement

So finally posting this...and wishing you well on your journey back home. This is life and it's yours...glad you found the peace and strength within.

In the stretch between Richmond to Louisville...if it happens to be pitch black out and clear. Pull off the highway. Step out of the truck. Look skyward.

Sometimes the best thing about solitary long drives is that one stop, the stretch of the neck upward and the sight of a million stars looking back at you.

Amazing--our lives--aren't they?

xo

Big Wheels

A friend at work sent me a set of pictures or adults riding Big Wheels down Lombard St. Incredible! Incredible! Incredible! Like walking around Toys-R-Us and getting on a tricycle…or just watching a five year old race around the store…the memories come flooding in—and the grin on one’s face is from a deeply held conviction that joy is one’s fuel. To retain that joyous wonder of childhood…of self-propelling yourself through aisle ways, avoiding the glares of people who should never enter toy stores (because…they just don’t get the value of it!!!)…that sense of being—of being in the here and now—light and alive…wonderful. If I had known such a race existed I would have entered Frederick into it-- he is Mr. Big Wheel.

We met Freddie while he was riding his Big Wheel around the complex. Not a “Hello”, but a “Watch me, watch me” and he would pedal as hard as he could with a huge smile on his face and zoom around and around the complex. There was nothing more exciting—nothing better than Frederick riding his Big Wheel…I wish he still had it to hang from the ceiling of his bedroom…a reminder that in one should never lose that exuberance in living.

That was his favorite activity when he was four and Steve and I have looked every year for an adult sized big wheel to buy him. We found one this year…but too late for Xmas. I found the following web pages related to the race…and the sheer sense of joy…the willingness to put yourself out there decades later to experience all over again that thing that brought such happiness to your world…this is what life is about.

http://laughingsquid.com/2006/04/13/big-wheel-race-down-lombard-street/
http://www.jonbrumit.com/byobw.html
http://www.recursiveirony.com/byobw/
http://www.geekentertainment.tv/2006/04/19/bring-your-own-big-wheels/
http://snarkmarket.com/blog/snarkives/gleeful_miscellany/big_wheelin/

This race takes place each Easter…you just show-up and participate. I’m not sure if a 6’6” 220lb (probably how big he will be in a little under a year) kid can fit on a Big Wheel…but we’ll figure it out.

Adult sized Big Wheel sites:
http://www.bigwheelrally.com/store/adult.htm
http://www.uncrate.com/men/gear/toys/adult-big-wheel-000652.php

Being 18

We have an ongoing debate in our house around the definition of "independence", "respect" and the usual terms that parents and children disagree on.

I can't remember what I was like at 18. I remained at college for the summer taking three classes. One in maths, history, a survey lit class where we read Gulliver's Travels in three days...I think I am the only one who actually read the book and supporting critiques and the other class was history. The summer itself was uneventful beyond work and school. I lived cheaply...roamed through the few used bookstores in Lexington and often would read into the deep hours of the night. Few friends if any...almost certain there was just one person I hung out with.

What independence meant to me, although still dependent on my parents for rent...working and going to school--being productive. It meant eliminate my 'wants' from their life and not to impact them. That is what it meant. I continued to impact them with the need for money...but I don't think I made demands for anything beyond what they offered to provide. I think this is the turning point to adulthood--when you realize you need to find a way to stand on your own feet.

And I think this is the debate we have within our house. That "independence" today is, "my parents should totally support me because I am school, plus I should get clothing, a car, spending money to hang out with friends and have a girlfriend." This is all predicated on a certain somebody, "being in school and doing what I am supposed to do". Very different reference points – goals --  reasoning.

Steve reminded me that he did landscaping at Davis his first summer--it's incredibly hot in the valley--a physically demanding job. He also did janitorial work and when he had the opportunity helped some field researchers on the Delta when the opportunity was available. Much more so than my office filing job--this showed initiative and drive to be independent...to be able to stand alone no matter what it took to do so.

And although I am genuinely happy to see the boys wander around our house...my fears and worries plague my mind. What if he doesn't reach the turning point? What if he chooses to continue to not "hear" people? When will he realize his "niceness" doesn't fool everybody? When will the chip on the shoulder begin to be a weight that he recognizes as a main roadblock to getting along in the world? When will he realize security and happiness are from within and not external...? This is the process of being a parent...of waiting...and hoping. That this child you have been so invested in begins to see the greatness in their being.

I look forward to a few years from now...when the embrace of just being who you are becomes fluid.

Books...

I have been reading a book titled, "A Field Guide to Getting Lost". I picked it up at the library about a week ago with a couple of others...not expecting to find myself reading a few sentences and then staring off out the window pondering the meaning. It's rare to find a book that is so engaging...a book that asks those very simple questions and you can feel the deep gaze into your eyes from the black & white text...as if, perhaps, me--the reader might have the answer. That is the kind of book it is--a statement of the obvious, of answers to questions we do not have yet cling to their presence in our life and build myths to feed our urgent need to know. I am enjoying it. Revisiting the mighty men who spoke a millennium ago and more recently just a century or so in the past. The voices that linger, the words that tap you on the shoulder...only to find yourself facing a different direction as if the pivot of one's head would change the path those impulses will travel along the synaptic pathways. As if this alone would trigger the change in awareness...in how one lives.

It is time to head home...and here are some of the passages that will occupy the attention of my brain on the way to the 'burbs:

"Leave the door open for the unknown, the door into the dark. That's where the most important things come from, where you yourself came from, and where you will go....How will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?....The question struck me as the basic tactical question in life. The things we want are transformative, and we don't know or only think we know what is on the other side of that transformation. Love, wisdom, grace, inspiration--how do you go about finding these things that are in some ways about extending the boundaries of the self into unknown territory, about evolving into the someone you want to be?"

quotes along the way...
1.) "live always a the 'edge of mystery'--the boundary of the unknown."
2.) "All experiences, in matters of philosophical discovery, teaches us that, in such discovery, it is the unforeseen which we must calculate most largely."
3.) "Not to find one's way in a city may well be uninteresting and banal. It requires ignorance--nothing more. But to lose oneself in a city--as one loses oneself in a forest--that calls for quite a different schooling."

culminates in a glimpse at understanding...
"To lose yourself: a voluptuous surrender, lost in your arms, lost to the world, utterly immersed in what is present so that its surroundings fade away. To be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery."

Life IS like this!

Believing in what can be...

Unwritten

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten

Long and short of it

Written on BART…7:15am…
Weekends go by quickly and slowly. Inevitably I sleep terribly on Sunday evenings. Not sure why this is…wrestling with the number of “To Dos” to be done…the tasks not finished, the ideas half-baked but due…Sunday is generally a horrible night for sleeping. I wake often and randomly. Sometimes a clip of a dream in my head, generally a flashback to something I have done over the weekend.

We have decided baseball is **the** most boring sport on the face of the earth. Not sure if it is this age group, the beating down of the sun or it really is just moves so slowly that you lose interest. Max, Jordan, Crag and Bob all came to see Freddie play…for the first four innings this helped in passing time. It was good to have them there…it was good to see that Freddie’s friendships are a bit more dynamic and not one dimensional. They won yesterday, but lost their game on Saturday. Puts them somewhere in the middle of the pack as far as placement. Although Freddie is enjoying his time on the field, he enjoys the dugout as well. Just chatting, joking, relaxing and being a kid.

Saturday Steve ended up doing a middle length run on the shorter side. I tagged along to the area…and walked 6.4 miles. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy just wandering aimlessly…not exactly without a goal…go one way for an hour and then head back to the parking lot…but just the ability to be in a place right now for the moment and fully…that is what I enjoy about hiking.

I was thinking on the train this morning it has all three things I crave 1) solitude 2) mental machinations 3) physical challenge. I’d like to do the Ohlone trail. Backpack overnight. Pack light. Focus on just one foot in front of the other. And some time alone. Physically I am not ready for this…but we’ll see in a week if I can get a Mission Peak hike in this week…then maybe.

Busy week ahead.

Heading home…9:00pm…
Long day, but a little closer to the goal. Finished most of the deck of slides and will complete them in the morning. I was asked an interesting question by an interesting individual in my interesting department. Along the lines of new projects—opportunities. I enjoy research, I enjoy looking into the new and different. I don’t mind the grunt work related to understanding a thing…I relish it. That sense that some are confident with “thinking they know” and it’s enough…I’d rather just dive in and know…see it, run the numbers, know it—live it—breathe it.

I love SF at night. This is the first time I am seeing the city in the evening at dark from my office. It’s the first night I have stayed late since we have moved. Makes me miss NY. The hum of the city, the low roar of constant motion.

"At the edge of everything..."

I travel the lines of books soaking up a phrase here and there and then letting it float outside the text...does it still resonate--does it still ring true?

I've read a few books in the last month...and have played more arcade video games in my leisure time than I think I have in years. Escapism. Lesser of two unproductive habits...the meaningless novel or puzzle games...hmm.

I was thinking about the photograph of three of my closest friends. A snapshot of them on Castro Street while we were shopping in the mid-90s. Seems forever ago and I can remember little from the day itself (although I think two others of the group would have no problem recreating the entire day from memory). Three people who know me best, could finish my sentences, could comfort my pain and make me laugh louder than I thought possible.

What are they like now...I converse now and again, I catch-up but I take in the e-mails without surprise. Two of them have suffered terribly in the last year, the third I can only imagine the daily horror of working in pediatrics...the suppressed outrage at the preventable and then having to repress the enormity of a condition in the here and now when a child doesn't have chance. And yet, they have all found themselves a little further along the road...the experience is not killing their spirit...they are truly living.

...distance...and I wonder if this is age/time/the self evolving...I wonder if we all sat down to coffee if we could just be...be engaged in hearing each other...genuinely interested in where the last ten years have gone. If I snapped a picture in the here and now...would the faces be light, whimsical, aloof, wondering?

~~~~~~
"My theory," Simon said, "is that you measure your arrival in New York by when you stop looking at other people and start assuming they're looking at you."
~
"...Meaning bad isn't the issue. Meaning you do what you do. Not without consequences for other people, of course, sometimes very grave ones. But it's not very helpful to regard your choices as a series of right or wrong moves. They don't define you as much as you define them."
~
"She met my glance, then peered at the photograph. 'The complacency of extreme beauty,' she said. with a little sniff.
I laughed. 'I was thinking she looked complicated and mysterious.'
She shook her head. 'That's what they want you to think, but she's like a Matisse odalisque or something, blissed out on self-approval.' She stood there for a moment, then turned around and studied the shelves behind me, where a little wooden shingle hanging into the aisle read PHILOSOPHY and RELIGION.

I turned back to the book, disappointed she hadn't said more. It was another New York moment, like at the photography show with Simon: a stranger delivering up an inscrutable, glittering sentence--pretentious, maybe, but also unforgettable--and then moving on. Maybe that's what New York would end up being to me, a collection of such moments that would accumulate into life."
~
"Oh, he was kindness itself, he was compassion, understanding, but it was all coming away from him and there wasn't a single way in."
~
"New Yorkers were different. Old or young, crazy or brilliant, plain or gorgeous--they didn't just walk outside, they made a presentation, they presented themselves. They said, This is who I am, today I'm someone wearing these boots, I'm walking with this look on my face, I'm having this intense and troublesome discussion with this difficult but beloved friend."
~
"...one person's 'Just Do It' is another person's Mount Everest."
~

The sun is setting, the rays glistening off the buildings outside my office. The clattering of the machines pounding away...another building...progress. Off to home...to the train...then the drive...hitting the repeat button on the CD player.