Notes from the Neighborhood – Hardwired

I am thinking about the old telephone operators that used to manually connect telephone lines so that people could talk to each other.
I’m thinking about the wires that made the connection, which obviously needed to happen. Otherwise, there’s be no communication.
I think about what took place when the connection was lost or the cord was pulled and removed from the port.

I see the wires in my head and view this as a diagram of sorts. I think our brain works the same way yet, I wonder what would happen if we pulled the wires to remove the connection. Or if anything else, I wonder what our wires would do if we placed them into different ports or different terminals. Maybe this would change our communication.
Maybe this would stop the connection to old or unwanted thinking. Maybe this could end the transmission between two points, no differently than it would be to hang up or disconnect from a phone call or end a conversation when it’s finished.

I am thinking about this because, of course, I think that I think too much.
Then again, who doesn’t?
I think about the computer server rooms at work. I think about the wires and the boxes and panels and internet connections which they serve. It’s amazing too, how far we’ve come as far as technology goes.
It’s amazing to think about how wide or vast our communication can reach – and obviously, our technology can span much farther than say, the way it was when used to have to think about long-distance phone calls. We’ve certainly advanced since the days of telephone operators who used to be responsible for connecting calls and plugging in wires to secure our connections.

But . . .
What if we updated our own system?
What if we unplug ourselves?
What if we pulled the connection?
What if we removed the communication from unwanted things or disconnected from the unwanted items in our life?
What would that look like?

What if we detached and unplugged from things such as the past?
What if we removed the wires that charged our fears?
Or how about this . . .
What would our life be like if we cut the ties from our past arguments?
Maybe we could stop the need to relive and replay these bouts in our head, thousands of times, over and over again.
What if we disconnected from the resentments or the hurt or the pain?
Would we still feel the results of our unresolved battles?
Would they even need to be resolved now that we don’t think about them anymore?
Would we still overthink if we could unplug our thoughts and place them in a new or helpful connections?

I believe that overthinking can be crippling.
But more, this can be limiting because there are literally billions of other options or ideas to consider.
I suppose this is what I’m looking to do.
Hence, this is my intention behind this journal and all that have come before it.

I suppose this is what I need to do –
to detach
to let go
to step away
to remove myself.
Or, as I once recalled, there comes a time when we are fed up with the present company and finally we understand our value and lastly, we understand that we are worth so much more.
So?
What happens?
We move our chairs back from the tables of our unwanted company and politely stand, return our chair beneath the table, and then magically – we turn around and walk away.
I think this is amazing.

And please to be clear, this does not mean that I am looking to detach from you or from the world as I know it. Instead, this means that I am looking to unplug from the unsettled tensions and the unresolved traumas that I have become part of my hardwired thinking.

This is me, rebooting my system to accept the upgrades and remove the old, unnecessary hardware. To remove the malware and the unwanted files, this is my way of refreshing my system and defragmenting my files – so that my speed and my efficiency is up to date. This is my way of removing the internal and emotional or social viruses which maintain my system’s toxicity.

I wonder if I would hurt as much as I do if I seldom thought about hurtful things.
I wonder if my focus is biased, which I know it is and yes, I know that if I think better then, essentially, I can feel better too. 

But, I think I have to pull a few plugs first.
That is what this journal is about.
There is, of course, the so-called art of letting go.
And I admit it –
I am not a master of this art.

I have not perfected my detachments nor have I mastered the art of disconnecting from unwanted people, places or things. However, sometimes life happens in a specific order.
This allows us the moment to open our eyes and see clearly. And sometimes, life has a way of culling the herd. Life moves and fate, well, I suppose fate and destiny have a plan of their own.
If this were not true, would you and I have met or connected (and reconnected) the way we have?

One more day, and then I am up in the air.
Literally . . .
I will be on an airplane and heading to a place that I’ve only thought about or seen in pictures.

I am making this trip as somewhat of a pilgrimage to find myself and to reach my own, personal Mecca or place to meet myself, as if to find that “thing” which is otherwise missing or lost or somehow vanished.

Therefore, effective immediately, I am choosing to disconnect and unplug and remove myself from the unwanted connections and so, by unplugging from the unwanted thoughts or removing the unneeded feelings and by severing the connections which have either kidnapped or hardwired my thinking; and to remove myself from a belief system, as if I am less than or a child of a lesser God, or unworthy – I have to cut the wires.
Going forward, as I empty my trays of the unwanted evidence that has either continued to prove my fears or my worries, and once I have removed all communication from my past, or separated myself from the undesired worries, the assumptions, and as soon as I remove the relationship with my anticipatory worries and unfortunate expectations; at last, I will be able to move ahead.
I can go forward and enter into the life which is more desired than a life that holds me back.

This is not to say that I am going to disconnect from you or the people I love. This is not to say that I am not going to encounter struggles or that the past will not “spring” up so-to-speak.
All this means is that I am pulling the plug.

Now, I have to say this out loud –
Pulling the plug used to have a different definition to me.
But that’s not what I’m saying.

No, I suppose what I’m saying is this is another one of my goodbye letters.
This is the second to last entry . . .
So, this is my pre-goodbye.
As in, goodbye to the yesterdays I cannot change.
Goodbye to the moments which have either left a bruise or a mark or a painful stain on my heart or my soul.
Goodbye to the anger and the angst and the resentments.
Goodbye to my old life.
Goodbye to my old and unwanted self.
Goodbye to my hate.
Goodbye to my fears which oddly – you and I have gone back for decades now and somehow, even though I can’t say fear is always a bad thing – still, you and I need to split apart.
And as for you – my fears . . .

I can say that you are an excellent motivator. I can say that had I used your motivation either effectively or properly, I could have saved myself a few years of regret because rather than fear you, I could have learned from you by facing you down like a gunfighter in the streets – only to realize that you shoot blanks and me – trust me, these pistols are deadly. After all, fear . . .
You’re the one who taught me to use them
(Remember?)
But that’s the past.
And so are you.

I exhale and breathe in.
This way, I can close today’s entry.

And oh, before I go . . .
My ritual of making a Saturday stew had to change this week because I will be traveling. So, last night I took a 2.9lbs black angus roast, put it in the crock pot with a can of tomatoes and I poured in a cup of red wine, some olive oil, some garlic cloves, some twigs of thyme, some rosemary, some parsley, and then I added some carrots, some cubed yellow potatoes, and a bit of tomato paste. I put in a bag of dried pinto beans. I added some of these really small heirloom tomatoes which complimented the stew in a way that was unexpected. I threw in a fair share of grated cheese and even added some pepper jack just to see what would happen. I also added a little ghost chili hot sauce, which sounds really hot, I grant you, but I only put in enough to give the stew a small amount of heat.
And trust me, it’s welcoming.

This has been in the pot since yesterday evening.
I cooked this for ten hours, which means that I was up at 3:00 to taste the end result. 

I made enough, just in case you changed your mind . . .
which you did (no?).
I made enough for an army, let alone enough for two.
That’s okay because food is a great connection.
Food is love.
It brings us closer . . .
It fills the belly . . .
It makes us happy enough to lay on the couch and watch a movie –
or take a nap –
or if you’d rather . . .
we could always take our clothes off for a while
because that’s a great connection too.

At least I think so.