Back when I was younger, I eventually thought that I’d be tougher.
Somehow.
And I don’t mean this as if to say that I am not tough or that I have never been tough at all.
No, I can say that there were spurts of toughness and acts of mine that were the toughest of all because, above all, my acts were true, same as all of this is true – or at least this is true to me.

I have heard the saying, “life is short.”
And it is. Time is ticking.
The clock is on and yes, life is too short to be complicated with indecision, which means now is the time to move.
Now is the time to stand up. Or better yet and in the spirit of this journal – now is the time to cross these items off of our list.

This means now is the time to live.
Take a risk.
Go someplace. Do something different.
Don’t be afraid.

And so it was. A time.
A moment.
A fiasco or two, maybe.
Who can say?

Life is moving now. And me? I am reconnecting with myself.
I look back at the different stages of my life. And to each is their own beginning. To each is their own middle and to all is their own ending.
This is life –
cyclical

I remember back when I was a kid and The Old Man would tell me that I quit too easily. He’d say that I gave up too quickly, that I didn’t even try or that whenever things were tough or the fight was too much, I’d fold up and give in.
He told me that I didn’t have any stick-to-itiveness.
Stick-to-itiveness . . .
It’s a good word

What does it mean to have fun, anyway?
What does it mean to trip the light fantastic? Or to dance or to sway to music?
What does it mean to toss all of our cares behind us and completely abandon all regards of that which is beyond our control?
Imagine?
What does it mean to live or love, or laugh or learn and be in the moment and to live, just in that moment; as if nothing could take us away from this; as if nothing could stop or destroy us; and for the moment, what does it mean to be so filled with satisfaction and the absolute pleasure of being in one single solitary minute, just a minute, that’s all – and to be so entwined in this, that for the time being, there is no wrong; there are no such things as cruelties to humankind – and/or, for the moment, what does it mean to literally and viscerally feel the celebration of life around us?

While it would be nice to describe the start of my day begins with a walk to a mailbox at the end of a long driveway in a secluded section of town, nice big house, a community among the stars, maybe we could put this somewhere out in sunny California, or maybe elsewhere at a place where the rich live and the homes are mostly paid with royalty checks and the bank accounts are all full with an accountant to monitor the flow of expenses. But no.
The truth of the matter is I am a worker. I have bills. I have a small apartment and a car that has seen better days. I have expenses and for the time being, I am spread thin and often I find that I have to burn the candle at both ends so that I can make ends meet.

I have been asking myself a question throughout this entire journal, which is simple.
What do I want the most? Is it happiness? Is it peace? Is it redemption and a shot at a greater salvation?
Or have I started this so-called list of mine to redeem my spirit?  Is this based on the need to see the world or taste the nectar of life without ever looking back with a second of regret?

Please, before I go on, we have to keep this in perspective. I cannot say that this is for everyone. Nor is this intended to reach everyone. However, in the sense of life and how we see things, there are people out there who go through things alone. And, well –
I offer this entry as an honest report which is raw. I agree.
But at least this is honest
And at least this is real so . . .
Please allow me to proceed.

There was a small motel just off the main drag in South Florida where all the other hotels and high-priced guests would stay. I stayed in that small motel when Mom was sick. There was something about this place. There was something fitting about the smallness and even the cheapness about the room. Yet, there was something comforting about this for me. This was something almost spiritual too, as if to mean that I was somewhere that was safe. As if there was a beautiful sense of anonymous confidentiality awaiting my return when I’d get back to my motel room.
I was there for a purpose yet I was there on family business (of course) but I was also there to unravel, as if to let go of my tensions and grief.

There is no plan, per se nor is there a script to follow. No, this is life . . .
and life is happening, live and in-person. Know what I mean?

There is no right or wrong when it comes to our plans. There’s only the moment, which is here and now.
So, expect the unexpected and allow yourself the right to adjust your plans accordingly.
This is the only way.

I am working to navigate my way towards a new life. While I go at this alone and on my own for the first time in a long while, I have to understand that the chance to improve and grow is happening, right here, and right now – live and in-person.