It is the last day of this year on earth and for whatever the reasons may be, the planets have decided to allow me another year around the sun. I see no reason to look back nor do I find any answers that are valuable enough for me to rethink where I am now because, of course, I’m at where I’m at.
I’ll be where I’ll be.
And what’s to come is what’s to come.
There’s no point in discussing the “could’ve, would’ve, should’ve” ideas because whatever could’ve happen, did happen, and whether this is what should’ve happen is irrelevant to me now.
We’re at where we’re at. And we’ll be where we’ll be.
Anything else is out of our hands.
It is another morning though. Our side of the hemisphere is preparing to do its trip around the sun, leaning further away from the warmth until we circle back once more towards the warmer months of the year.
Spring will be here before you know it.
See?
It’s cyclical. Life is.
We are seasonal. We are multidimensional.
We are simple. Complex.
Easy. Complicated.
We are the only sort of this breed, which is not to say anything about life on Mars or life on other planets.
This is not about the concepts which support that men are from Mars and women are from Venus.
Neither are from either place anyway and, to be truthful, we are all here and we are all from this crazy place, third from the sun, as they say.
I have been told that there are billions of other galaxies which means, in hindsight, we are so absolutely small yet we tend to make big deals out of everything.
We overthink.
We overcomplicate.
We dare too little and question too often.
To what avail?
I think this is a great question.
It is too far from me now. The past, I mean.
However, this is all out of my control.
I remember now, my Mother used to tell me, “In the beginning, it is written.”
She meant this from a biblical or religious perspective.
And me?
Well, I don’t do religion so much.
However, I do have a belief system. I do believe in powers greater than myself and sure, I believe in miracles, of course I do.
I see them every day. All over the place.
(You are more than one of them – every day, I see this.)
Today is the last day of this year and yes, my days of awe and reflection between Christmas and New Years are ending. As is this journal, by the way.
I told you about my days of awe between the holidays and my ideas of personal reflection as a means to grow better and stronger and be one step closer towards my dreams.
In a sense, this time of year is my own day and moment of atonement; whereas, I atone for myself, my sins, my mistakes, my heartless moments and my need to improve.
We are not so diverse nor complex nor complicated nor simple.
We are all of the above and, at the same time, we are only who we think we are.
We are who we believe we are.
And me –
What do I believe?
I am often at an impasse with this.
I am seldom sure.
I am frequently intimidated.
Yet, despite what’s comes my way, I have not resigned or quit, nor taken my toys and gone home.
Have I found happiness throughout my entries or while writing this journal?
I’m not sure how to answer this.
This has been another exercise where I choose to replace thoughts with beneficial action.
Yes, to me, this is a benefit.
Coming here each morning to find you is a benefit.
(Even if all I find is myself, at least I came here to reach out.)
I can say that having this moment with you is better than sitting alone or walking down by the docks near the Seaport, alone, and wondering what ever happened to a pigeon that was struck by a car that time. Better than watching the world go by or more impressive than seeing a person come back from the brink of obscure destruction; better than any comeback signed by a producer to make a big movie deal, and better than watching an old movie from our youth or hearing an old song from a good time in my past, and more explosive and more persuasive, more enticing, inspiring, motivating, and moving moving to me are the moments when a moment of awareness comes.
Oh yes, I am aware now.
This is the age of change for me.
I am worn from my old travels and seeking a new journey.
I am listening to the winds and soon enough, I plan to make an old trip new again.
What I mean is it has been close to a full decade since my last trip over the Loop Bridge and into the Town of Point Lookout.
It has been even longer since I walked the beach and, more so, it hasn’t been since January 1, 1988 that I was there with him, my Father, The Old Man.
I’m going to see him.
I’m bringing you with me too. Only, you’ll only be there in spirit, which is why I am releasing some of the dirt I collected in Chimayo to the sea – it’s an offering, so-to-speak.
A deal, perhaps.
I have heard and participated in traditions where people go to a pond to feed bread to the geese. However, this is more than a typical feeding.
The bread is more symbolic – sort of like my little drum, which I’ve been telling you about.
The bread symbolizes the sins of the year behind them. The pieces of bread are symbolic of all the unwanted and regretful things that took place, or the regrettable yesterdays they took part in throughout the year behind them – and with each piece of bread, each one symbolizes one sin or unwanted thing to be swallowed by the geese or devoured and be rid of.
Each piece of bread represents some kind of unwanted item, which is gone now, and perhaps forgiven or maybe forgotten – and when the bread is finished, the people say goodbye to the geese with full bellies and on they go towards living a new life in a brand new year.
I do not do, nor have I ever done a New Year’s resolution.
Besides, how many people stick to them?
No, I am not here to say this is the new year and “look out world,” because here comes the “new me.”
I am, of course, closing a chapter and tomorrow I will close this journal with an official send off and welcoming to the year 2024.
To some, this may sound like just another year.
To me, I remember growing up and thinking how the year 2000 is like another lifetime away.
But here we are now, 24 years later and back when the year 2000 hit, I thought the year 2024 would be another lifetime away. Maybe this is.
Maybe I am further along than I originally anticipated. Maybe my life and my skills or even my success has extended further than I anticipated.
This could be true.
However, in hindsight, I was just a kid back then. If the planets align and the universe allows me to live another 24 years, perhaps I will look back and think about how young I was back then (meaning now) and how far away I was from the truth, which is really simple – if we think about it.
The entire world is about to go through another shift.
I am experiencing life, right before my eyes.
I am living through the ups and downs, the dips and dives, or the highs and lows of what we call an everyday existence.
I cannot call or see where I’ll be this time next month.
I don’t know what will take place between now and March, April or even May.
I can’t say who will appear, disappear, or who will reappear or how I will experience life as it comes to me.
However, I am not facing those ideas right now.
No.
I am here for the moment.
Soon the sun will rise at approximately 7:11 this morning.
My plan is to make it out of the house by then.
After that, I will head east and then south to go down the Meadowbrook Parkway.
I will make my way over the Loop Bridge and perhaps I will see some of the old landmarks that have remained unchanged, as if to visit an old friend who has never forgotten me or what we mean to each other.
Currently, the temperature at Point Lookout is just about 40 degrees and the winds are moving at about 11mph with a relative humidity of 58%.
My world is out there at sea. So are my dreams and wishes. Soon I will cast a few shells and some stones into the outgoing sea.
This is just like the bread with the geese.
I plan to cast these things to remove myself from my old or unwanted sediments and when the waves come back after receding into the ocean, after the waves curl and land upon the shore to replenish the sand, I will view this as if the waves are coming in to cleanse my heart and spirit.
I am not perfect. (Neither are you.)
I am not putting myself above or below anyone.
No.
I am simply and humbly allowing myself to close this year like a book, so that I can say goodbye to what was and offer new hopes, rid myself of my unwanted or regrettable yesterdays and then tomorrow, I shall draw up a special treaty. This will be a truce between myself and my unwanted details – so I can let them go and welcome something better.
I love these mornings between you and I.
I love the cathartic nature which comes when I openly reveal myself to you like this.
I love the moments of introspection.
I love the idea that the future is out there.
Waiting . . .
The choice to be more than a little drummer boy, humble or poor, or to grow up and be bigger than I ever dreamed; or the passion to live and the drive to explore, and to love (and that’s the ticket right there!) and to enjoy another year around the sun is the plan I have to reach my next best thing.
I have a new friend. Her name is Little Chicken.
She is a little green bird known as a quaker parrot.
She is scared still. But we talk some.
I sung her to sleep last night.
Not gonna lie . . . It was kinda cute.
I told her don’t be afraid.
I explained that she and I have plans to make.
I want life. I want to be accountable for life, including my own and yours as well.
But before I go and make my way to Point Lookout, I have to say this:
You will never know how special you are to me.
Even though you are not here.
You are here – at least to me.
In my head and in my heart.
I don’t know what the future will bring.
But like I said yesterday to you about reaching for the stars –
I know I can’t touch one, but their beauty is so exciting to me that I can’t help but try.
I might not be worthy of a glimpse of how brilliant a star can be or to have the chance to touch something this amazing – but like I said, your beauty is so exciting to me – all I can do is try.
Worthy or not . . .
That’s all for now.
So long 2023.
Even the bad things have led me to explore new, good and better things.
Even the bad proposals have offered me the option of improving to live with a stronger intention and bigger hopes.
So whether I touch the stars or not, I know there is love out there for me.
Know how I know?
Because you just read every word . . .
The Written Addiction 