Notes from the Neighborhood – A Place for Peace

I want to find a place where I fit perfectly.
Better yet, I want to find a place where my imperfections and my jagged edges are complimented from all sides.

I want to be where the rain is fine and the autumns are like something from a Thomas Kinkade painting or Norman Rockwell, for that matter.
I want to find a place where everything makes sense – and as for the things that make no sense at all, no one minds these things.
No one talks about them as if they are so paramount and if anything, all the unwanted topics are abandoned and left aside or, simply put, they are unobjectionable and discarded like last year’s wind.

I want to be at a place where things make sense.
I want to pull up in my car and get out for a while.
I want to build a little spot here and find myself a small corner of the world – and, of course, I want to make this my own.
I tell you, it’s good to want things.
It’s even better to envision them and make them your own, if you know what I mean . . .

I want to find a place where there’s no bickering or back and forth bullshit or nonsense. I’d like to think there are still things like drive-in movies.
I’d like to go to one of those soon.
There’s no fighting here or reasons to argue, Then again, is not to say there’s no fun with lighthearted debates.
But even our debates would be welcomed and honored with an even measure of mutual respect.

I bet you could find a nice key lime pie at a place like this – or a good cobbler
if that’s your thing.

I can fit here.
I can live here.
I can find myself the perfect diner and get a good bowl of soup here.
And as for the waitress, yeah – she would nod and smile while clearing away my empty bowl.
She would know me by name, as if I were famous or family
(or maybe even both).

I want that small town appeal and that warm feeling, even in the depths of winter.
Do you know what I mean when I say this?
I want to be where snow piles on the sides of the road but nearby, there’s a hill where kids sleigh from the top to the bottom.
And it’s perfect.
Playgrounds are no longer empty and the parks and the park benches are made for the elderly couples who lived and learned and, above all, they recognized the secret of love and love’s endurance.

I want to be somewhere that opens the world to an outdoor beauty and everyone comes out to see things like the daily sunset.
Take for example, I remember when I stood on the sands at Imperial Beach, San Diego, California.
This was beautiful.
I want to see it like this again, only I want this from a more inland perspective, which is not to say that I do not nor could not appreciate the beach again.
In fact –
I have never seen the sun go down like it does in San Diego.
People gathered, just to watch.
They smiled at one another, even at strangers. For the moment, we were all connected like family or like loved ones – and there was no such thing as heated debates or rivaling enemies.
No, that sort of thing did not exist here.

I want to find a place like this and make it my own.
I can live here. I can grow here and yes, more than anything, I can wake up and enjoy the sunrise with my first cup of coffee and absolutely – I can write here too.

I think I want my trip back –
I want to board that Amtrak and be on the railroad – but I wonder.
What would old Jack say to this?
Any answers for me, Mr. Kerouac?
Never mind – I’ll find out myself.

I can take the railroad from New York City to the other side of our country, as if to say, San Francisco, maybe, California.

And ah, California.
You and I, we share something special.
But at the same time, you share this with everyone else.
Nothing belongs to me – per se.
Yet, and at the same time, I am unique.
I am individualized, sectionalized and compartmentalized.
Better yet, I am perfectly graced in the palm of God the Father’s hand which, if I need to explain it, is a place that carries trillions of souls; yet, mine is enough to glisten here and be beautiful without comparison – or an otherwise concern.

I can be me here. You can be you.
We can be ourselves. As for the fears or the worries or the misguided concerns in our head –
they can all collapse and disappear. 

I am listening to music now – soothing as ever, quietly, and I am typing in the dark with the soft white, yet bluish glow, beaming from the whiteness of my computer screen.

I am envisioning myself on that train across the country, typing away, looking out the window and seeing our great nation’s landscapes as they change from city to city.

There is no pressure here. Only relief.
There are no worries here.
Only the freedom to dream and to think and to see the sights as they merge from one place to the next.

There is nothing tragic nor sad yet, there is and will be emotion because, of course, there always is and there will always be emotion.
However, in this text, there is no rejection.
There is no comparison.
There are no worries about “being enough” or, if I compare myself to anyone or anything else, then my comparison is celebrated rather than decimating to my heart and soul.
I refer to this as if my thoughts can make me believe that somehow, I am sub-par or not enough, or worse, that I am worth less than others or simply worthless, which is a lie by any means. . .

But no.
Not here.
Not at my spot.
Not in my corner of the world. 

I have built bridges here (not walls) and yes, lo and behold, I have learned the value of one undeniable and valuable truth:
Wars are expensive and our collateral damages can last us a lifetime of regret
(and despair).

I want to build myself a spot, regardless of how big or small. Be it ever so humble, yes, there is no place like home; as in my home.
My place. My spot and my sanctuary.

There are no worries nor is there a need for an attorney or even if there was, items like separation agreements and divorce decrees are not blood-thirsty or vengeful.
But more, or even simplified, all this becomes is a math equation, fair and equitable, and enough to allow two people to find their paths in two different directions. 

I don’t want the battles anymore nor the hardships nor do I want the consistent and persistent strains and stressors.
I can forget about keeping up with the Joneses. I can allow myself to lose my place for a while – or, I can bury my thoughts in a journal, like now, and I can rid myself of the worries or which, as for my heart,  my love and my worth and all that I have and all that I can offer would no longer be seen as inconsequential and to me – I can find my value from within, as in so big and so strong that nothing can stop me. No one can stop me. Including me, and certainly not insecurity nor the worry or the ideas that no matter how much I put out, my fears of inadequacy would overwhelm me.
This would go away – as in absolutely vanish.

No, not here.
Not in my corner of the world, which, as for now,
is what I am building.
Or, should I say this is what I am rebuilding. 

I want my Utopia, my Shangri-La, and my version of paradise, imperfections and all.
I want my Elysium, my sugary fields, my land of milk and honey and my trees, my special nook, all come together like a place in the Almighty Mother’s womb.
Wonderful as can be and even in the sad, mistiness of gray days, rainy mornings or drizzles of sleep-house days, lugubrious as they come, like a quietly weeping sky, mournful and doleful yet, at the same time,
I know the truth, which is the rain is only The Great Mother, washing her children in the bath of her tears – to keep us clean.

I have a small place now – humble, yet enough for what I need.
My car is less than stellar and unfortunately, this is less than what I’d prefer to drive.
I have gone from living in a more preferable nature to a lower-income setting, which is fine for now.
No, really. It is.
I am secluded to some degree – alone in many ways and at the same time, I am isolated from the incidents and the accidents around me. 

My move is almost complete.
I have some last few things to sort through and then, I have a closet space to rebuild.
I have some ideas for art and pictures and framed accomplishments.
I have no other intention for now; other than at the moment, I have a legal fight ahead of me.
I have bills that will swell and a life that is changing.
However, as I sit before the white, yet softly bluish light from my computer screen (as I take my last gulp of coffee) I understand where I am and why, and what took place.

Yesterday, I said that if I am to be better then I have to be better.
Today, I say that if I am to find peace, then I have to build my peace wherever I am, wherever I roam or choose to lay my head. 

If I am to find peace then I first have to come to find peace with myself.
I have to be at peace with myself and let go of the matters that destroy my serenity.

Serenity – I really like that word. 

This means I have to stop the process of thinking and overthinking, analyzing and over-analyzing, comparing, calculating; and more, I have to stop considering all the unlikable items or the unwanted features of my life. To me, these are things that stick out like a blemish on the face of our soul’s beautiful skin. 

I reject my old world.
I’m here to build a new one – one twig, one pebble, one piece of straw at a time.

My coffee’s done
But my day is only beginning
And so is my life, should I choose to follow through –
and make it so.