The Book of When – Chapter Thirty Three

I remember when there was a time when it was good to be wild.

Do you?

I remember a time when it was fine to risk everything and not care about what came next. And I swear, a World War could’ve taken place and I might not have noticed.
A storm could have passed, a hurricane, tornado, and even an earthquake, and all could have gone on simultaneously and I wouldn’t have noticed.

I wouldn’t have cared either because I was lost somewhere in the object of affection or caught in a moment, which was so perfect, or so precious, like the feeling you’d get from a moment beneath the sun with music playing and every problem or challenge was so distant that ah, I swear, the world could have ended, and I was too busy being in the moment that I wouldn’t have noticed.

Not at all.

I can say that life is only made up of a few moments where we can say that we had a time. I can say that life is lived every day. And, yes, we can live each day to the fullest—or not.
We can enjoy the moment or keep our discomforts, which is always the choice, I guess. If I’m being honest, this is a lesson that I learned from you.
Live for every minute.
Live for every day.
Learn to find a reason to jump up and down.
I think everyone should have a reason to jump up and down,
at least once.

I remember when I was young.
I remember when the nights were long and crazy. I remember when I saw things for the first time, like the City from a rooftop.
I remember a flight out to Los Angeles. I remember the feeling I had, which was immeasurable because I never thought that I would be where I was. I never thought that someone like me would be where I was or do what I was doing.

There are times when life was so good that I swore, at some point, I was going to have to pay for this, somehow—because no one should be allowed to have this much fun or to be that happy.

I can’t say that I have had a whirlwind life or lived on the crest of the waves. I can’t say that everything went well because, no, the fact is I have had dark times too.
I can’t say that I have experienced greatness throughout my entire life, but not everything was so bad or tragic either.
Not every catastrophe was so terrible that I couldn’t look back and say, well, at least I got one in. Or at least, I had a good time. Or, at least, I found a good place to get a burrito and a few tacos and a quesadilla . . .

At least, I can say that I ate well. I can say that I have tasted some of the best foods in my life. Sure, I still have my dreams of finding the best slice of pie. Perhaps I’ll do this one day, somewhere down in New Mexico, on my way from Carlsbad to Santa Fe.

There are places I have never seen and lands that I’ve yet to visit. And who knows?
Who knows if I’ll go to an island named, Espiritu Santo?
Who knows if I will drive along the coastline in that red convertible or hug the road that borders the island of Maui?
Or, what about Fiji? It will be an event.

Maybe. Maybe not.

But you know what?

I remember walking by the playhouse where RENT was showing, and I remember seeing the inspirations and the places where I found the motivation to rise above the bullshit. I can’t say that I always rise above—the bullshit, I mean.

I never did a reading of my poetry at one of the downtown spots, and I might not. But then again, maybe I will—someday.
Maybe there will be a shift in my universe, which is about to take place, and the priorities which I used to believe were so important will suddenly become unimportant.
I’d like the fights from my yesterday to be forgiven and forgotten.

Maybe . . .
Maybe this can happen.
Maybe not.

I remember when there was a time it was safe to feel or to be or to laugh or to throw everything up in the air, or to gamble with the gods, and yes, I remember when there was a time that I could allow myself to indulge, or to exhale, or to let myself be “me” for the moment.

I say that there are only a few rare moments in life, and these are defining moments, and they are valuable and meaningful, and life-altering, and hopefully they are lifesaving as well—at least, yes, I can say that this was so in my case.

I am not a man of many friends. Although, I suppose the outside world might see this differently. I am not someone who goes out much. I am simple, mainly quiet, and mostly to myself.
Of course, I am bravest here. But then again, there is no one else here—except for us, which is perfect for me because I don’t need a crowd anymore. I don’t need fame. I have more of a fortune than I ever expected—then again, I have more bills than I ever bargained for.
But still, I might have to pay and I might have to owe. But as tough as things get, my answer is yes, I remember there was a time that I could dare it all and not care what happened next.
I remember there was a time when it was safe to be wild. And I remember a time when it was safe to dream and to want something and to explore and to veer away from the common path.
I remember when I heard the poem from Robert Frost –

Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower
But only so, an hour.
So leaf subsides to leaf
So Eden sank to grief
So dawn goes down today,
Nothing gold can stay ~

I understand that nothing gold can stay. I understand that seasons change and feelings change too. I realize that our intentions change and so will our reasons to go, stay, or to move on, or to settle back for a second, just so we can look back, or to sit still and soak up the sun or to see the sun go down or come up—whatever the case may be.

I understand that good things come to an end. But they don’t have to end at all.
And yes, life can take us on a trip sometimes, and sometimes, the trips can be heavy.

I understand that we are all passengers on a rock that spins around the sun. Regardless of how or who we are, we’re all trying to find the best possible way to live, love, laugh and learn.

These are the Four L’s.
I was taught about them when I was learning about mental health. The Four L’s are the way we live, love, laugh and learn.
I was taught that anything that affects them, whether good or bad, helpful or otherwise, is something that has an impact on our mental health.
I love that explanation.
I think this sums it up pretty nicely.

I remember when there was a time I was fine to live, love, laugh and learn.
I want to get back to that,
as soon as humanly possible.

I remember when there was a time it was absolutely perfect to go crazy, or to do something, just to say “we did it!”

I remember this.
I remember how good this felt.

Don’t you?