Notes from the Neighborhood – I Believe It’s in the Stars

There has to be something, a light maybe. There has to be something to cling to or at least some kind of fabric to our lives that holds us together.
You hear people say things all the time. They say things like, “You have to let go,” or they’ll tell you that “God doesn’t put anything in our lives that we can’t handle.”
Then I’ve heard people say, “You never know how strong you are until strong is the only choice you have.”

Then again, I can remember the time I met a kind old man who was a top salesman in his company. He was successful by all rights. He had a family, which he loves. He had children that he raised and saw them all graduate from high school and college. He was kind and happy and very friendly.
He was the first person to tell me, “If you love what you do for a living then you’ll never have to go to work a day in your life.”
I told him to go shit . . .
Then again, I was working a job that was hard and unlikable. I was miserable too. I hated everyone and everything.
But then again, my focus was biased and my hope was lost.

I have always been a person to understand what it means to be “on the mend,” so-to-speak. I know what rock bottom is and I know that even rock bottoms can have trap doors.
No really, this is true.
Be careful because we can easily fall through the trap door and matters could be worse.

I can remember the beginning of my new and recent change. I was driving from Lexington Avenue and heading back to the place where I was able to rest my head. I lived here for a few weeks. But otherwise, I was somewhat homeless. I was a king without a queen and a land without a king for the time being.
I was alone and living in a basement.
This was not home by any means but it was a place where I was able to stay and put my clothes, wash my body and rest m head.
Yet, and this is the odd part – I refer to this place with an appeal of gratitude.
I was here to start my rebuilding process and this is also when and where this journal began.

At the time, everything seemed to be falling apart, including my sanity. The ground kept pulling out from under me. I was alone. I was sad. I was scared. I was unsure of what my future was going to look like – and I am still afraid and feeling most of the above. However, I am not homeless. I am not living in the lap of luxury either.
But what I have is important enough to note that what I have is mine.
And I like that, but I digress again.
So let me get back to the beginning and that drive which took place on a day when my heart was sinking deep.
The morning was pretty. The sky was beautiful. Only, my emotional content was heavy and weighing me down.
I remember saying to myself, “How much worse can this get?”
No sooner did this thought complete itself and no sooner did this finish with the sound of my internal voice still ringing in my ears – my car was side-swiped by another vehicle who took off and yes – I was thinking how it couldn’t get any worse – but it did get worse.
Hit and run.
The car took off. I called the police and sadly the phone call was unhelpful and mildly insulting.

Can it get worse?
Yes.
Life can be worse.
We can fall and never get up. We can lose ourselves. We can lose our footing.
We can lose people. We can lose our minds and still, no matter how far we’ve sunk or find ourselves drowning in the vast amount of bullshit – believe it that yes, things can always get worse.

It is not easy to say goodbye to summer. I have always been a fan of the autumn months. Then again, I never allowed myself to enjoy the summer or spend time outside.
I am a fan of the foliage and the canopies of tree-lined streets and the colorful changes which are inevitable and about to take place.
Soon, the weather will cool even more than it has. Even sooner, the world will take on a snowy and wintry appeal.
The sun will still shine and the sky will be blue. Only, the sun will deliver its light without any warmth and the wind will be sharp enough to whistle.
The trees will drop their leaves and the branches will look either lifeless or brittle, or like the gnarled fingers of an old arthritic that point at the sky.
But alas, life will return when spring comes back again.
And beauty – ah, believe me
She is everywhere.

I have not lost my hope that life can and will resume a better shine nor have I lost my appreciation for the glimmer of pretty things.
I believe in the breath of life because the feel, the urge, and the desire for more and the hunt for my soul and my truth is still alive.
This can never die. Not even if I kill it because my love is still alive and only looks to be more alive and to live more.

I am aware more now than ever before that life has nothing to do with being fair or unfair.
I do not know if I am strong or weak or brave or a coward.
I am no guru of any kind. I am only another person on this big rock, or as its been called or sung by musically transduced by Mr. Hendrix;, “the third stone from the sun.”

I am here on this turning substance and wondering, hoping, dreaming and waiting for a change.
I agree that life is seasonal. I also agree that life is often taken for granted. I do this sometimes.
Take things for granted.
Good times that seem so small or minimal – even they have a bigger value because they are the things we remember most when we find ourselves alone – or living in a basement and sitting in a solitary atmosphere without the only company we want to keep.
This is why I know about my love.
It’s not that I never knew. However, in the absence of all, I experienced what life is like in a vacuum.
This is when I swore that I would never allow my ;love to be unsaid, or unsung, unwritten, or unpledged again.

I cannot change what took place nor can I change people, places or things.
However, and unfortunately, this is part of life. 
Life changes. People change.
We evolve and we grow. Sometimes, we go back because life turns in a full circle – and suddenly, we wake up (hopefully) and as our eyes open to a new light, we look at what we have (or had) and we recognize the dangers of taking life for granted. 

But please . . .
Do not worry.
I am here. I have fallen. I have bled and banged my head. I have bumps and bruises of the emotional kind. Then again, we all have these things.
I have not quit or decided to submit to the tides.
I have not lost my voice nor have I missed a day of my commitment, with the exception of one, but that was because my situation did now allow me to come here to reach you – or write. 

It is unimportant to me that yesterday existed. I know what happened. I was there to see it too.
In fact, I stayed like a person in a movie theater, so moved and emotional and so blown away by the scenes that I hung around to watch the credits roll.

Something that I have learned is this:
I will never allow for time apart nor will I offer distance because in this case; all this does is prepare someone you love the time to learn how to live without you.
I did this And with regret, I am working to undo this, one day at a time. Not just for you but for me as well.

So . . .
Going forward, I refuse to hesitate.
I refuse to let one day slip by without doing something new or saying “hello” to someone, just because, or just to be nice.
I have to try new things. Like say, a new dish perhaps
I never did a stir fry . . .
Simple. Maybe.
But I never did this before.

Although my head has been dealing with cold symptoms and my sinuses have not been too kind to me, I made a late dinner last night.

I sliced up a few filet mignons which I had in the fridge. I took some garlic and oil and some red wine and some butter. I let the pan heat up for a while to heat the contents and prepare for the new and the unknown.
I added the strips of filet, covered the pan to seal the deal, and let the juices pull off a trick or two.
I flipped the meat and stirred the juices around to make sure each piece of the filet was soaked and bathed in the garlic and the rest of the juices, the thyme, basil, and salt and black pepper, which I was adding throughout the time because hey, I’m not a chef but I wanted this to be good.
Also, I do know that food is love. 

I had some stir-fry vegetables that came with a garlic ginger sauce.
I put this in the pan after the meat cooked to a nice and tender brown. I added the garlic and ginger sauce.
I let the vegetables take in the juices and the heat. In no time at all, I had a good meal
(fit for two).

I say this without question or doubt.
Food is love.
If I didn’t know this, would I recall this so lovingly or adoringly?
Would I have remembered the times when two people fed each other?
Two people so happily together and eating a meal, as if to say, “Fuck the world,” because “We have snacks now!” and nothing else matters.

I know that life is changing.
I know that times can be hard. I can say from experience that life can always get worse.
But as for strength or as for our endurance and our ability to live, love, laugh and learn while coinciding with the times that be . . . life can improve.
We can get better.
We can’t quit though – that’s for sure –
at least not before the miracle happens.
And let’s be fair, sometimes the miracle is as simple as getting up or out of bed in the morning.

By the way –
No one can stop me from loving you the way I do . . .
Not even you.
This doesn’t mean the world will stop turning. This doesn’t mean that the ending will be the desired one.
I’m not sure what you will see when you look up at the stars and I don’t know which star you’re looking at.
I only know that I see the heavens in your eyes.
I only know that when I look up, I see the stars and a sea of tranquility. 
I see the moon. I see the big dipper and the little one too. I see Orion’s belt and a cosmic ocean of hope and endless possibility.

I have to enjoy this. No matter where I am.
And no matter what I do.

But don’t worry – no matter where I go or where you are, it will never be as far away as you think.
I suppose my love is like that lullaby that Billy Joel sang  –

Someday we’ll all be gone but lullabies go on and on –
They never die
That’s how you and I will be.

I mean this . . .
No matter where you are or go or what stars you look at in the middle of the night –
I’ll always be right there – in your heart.
I promise you this.
So don’t be afraid and don’t weep.
My love is bigger than the stars you see.
My body is not as strong. And my legs are tired from running through my thoughts.
But I know what bad times look like.
I know what war tastes like and yes, I’ve fallen through my share of trap doors and hit bottoms below my bottoms.
But even still –

I can say that I’m still here and fuck it . . .
It’s in the stars and my love is still here (if you’ll have me).

Even if nothing else is, at least my heart is still pure . . .
Forever