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Floating Thru Time & Space

25/12/2018

1 Comment

 
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 It's not that I am lazy - but I can be so lazy.

Motivation is overrated. Success is a mirage.

Gimme a camel, some fresh dates and a cup of tea in the desert, surrounded by nothing, any day.

We aren't going anywhere. Nothing matters, ultimately, so why get caught up in it?

Because it's so seductively real-feeling. Our minds trick us - drive us on - this thing, that thing, the next thing. Want, want, want.

Why am I writing this now? Because I feel I should. A little. (Also, cause I do like writing these things - once I get going...) Why do I feel like I 'should'? Because I have been doing it for five years now and to miss a whole month would be - I dunno - negligent. Wasteful.  Some part of me believes I am building something. Something worthwhile. An artist's journal. Insights into my mind. 

At the same time I know it's nothing that original or deep. Just the free flowing ramblings of another survivor. I feel like a teenager right now. This is how I used to write at thirteen. Just put down whatever comes. (Which is actually a good way to write. But you are supposed to tighten it up later, edit, make it a little fancy, polished. Later never comes.)

We didn't have LOLs back then to punctuate our sentences. We didn't have lots of things. No blogs. No computers. I used to write in notebooks with a ball point. 

Where was I? Oh, yeah; forty four years back. Say hello to the new old me - or the old new me! 

I haven't changed much. They called me lazy in school. Labelled me. Underachiever. But why waste time on bullshit! I knew life was not going to be what they presented it as. I knew what was useful and what was useless (for future me.) Stuff like - physics, history, Latin (yes! we had to study it! OMG, right!) - most of the academic stuff. English was good. Maths - good. Art - oh, yeah! Choir, drama... now we are talking! 

I was right. I didn't quite know it back then, but I was a free spirit, a mini rebel, an artist. And nothing has changed. Well, lots has changed. I have lived a life. My best friends from school are all heading towards sixty now. Those great people I remember as vital, good hearted, zesty, lucid sixteen year olds. They're all doing things, they've been through it all, too. You don't know how it goes until it's mostly gone. Seems like a bit of a rip off in a way. But there's no point in complaining. Cause no one is listening. You're the adult now! The authority. If you can't fix it - no one else can. That much you know. It's beyond ironic.

So why do I bother? Same reason everybody else does. It's easiest just to go with the flow. Keep being who you are. Doing what you do. How you've always done it. 

And although I have very little in the way of material reward to show for my devotion to creativity and passion and self expression, to living free spirited, unattached, unemployed, still making stuff up, creating every day - although I have not found success in the current social definition of success - I have been able to keep it going for a long time. Been a bohemian, a drifter, a dreamer, a poet, a romantic. I have not given up.

I am who I am and who I have always been. Same kid. Feeling life deeply, strongly, wildly. Overwhelmed at times by the ferociousness of reality, the demands of a sentient mind. But coping. Making the best of things. Taking what comes and dealing with it on my own terms in my own way. 

I never had any choice. I was born to be who I am. That much is clear. I resisted, circumnavigated society's insidious pressures to constrain and contain me. I have eluded conformity. Things haven't turned out ideally but they don't. Not for anybody. That much I know for sure. But if you are lucky, you can hang on to yourself - be true, face it or flee it as the case my call for - but follow your inner voice, stay alert, aware, open, hopeful. Keep dreaming.

Sure, be lazy. Unless you feel like doing something. Unless you get a good idea. Then do that. 

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Human Connections

22/10/2018

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     As I walked along the beach today, I thought about how I have been lucky in my life to have been able to spend chunks of time with very diverse groups of people.

I came to be thinking about it because of a friend of mine, Colton. We’ve just been friends for a year of so and although we haven’t really hung out that much in actuality, the bond is strong. It’s based on a positive outlook on life, a love of music. self expression and spirit. I answered an ad for a Korg Electribe rhythm production sampler on Gumtree and ended up at a boutique studio tucked away in the hills of Wilson’s Creek. I was met by the sound engineer, a Canadian with dreads and an easy manner. I didn’t buy the sampler but a few weeks later I invited him to a electronic music jam session in Byron and our friendship was formed.

He is one of a handful of musicians and music producers I have come to know over the last few years since I started doing my music production diploma at SAE. There are many top quality people like my teacher/mentors, Tyler from San Diego and James from Scotland. As well as them, there are the audio techs at school, fellow students and numerous DJs and local musicians who I have come to be friends with.

Spending time and interacting with these peeps has been a wonderful side benefit of my decision to studying music. Being around musos, I have come to know the breed from the inside. And I must say, they are a quality ilk. Easy going, considerate, and talented. Before I found myself enmeshed in the audio world, in my decades previous as more of a visual - art and film - person, I have to admit, I kind of always considered audio studies to be less desirable. It didn’t seem to offer the same vitality and energy that say, shooting or directing presented. I never considered it as something I would choose. Ironically, now that I am in it - deeply immersed - I have come to realise that it is a fantastically rewarding pursuit - in some ways the best ever. It’s like I stumbled into an entire world of wonder and magic that was always right there - I just never knew. It has been a revelatory experience, one that seems like it will continue to engulf, thrill me and pay me creative dividends way beyond expectations.

As well, it has connected me, more tangibly, with a new group of excellent people. Audio people are a true cool breed and I am very happy to be part of this exciting new subsection of creators.

I recall feeling a similar thrill when I was just nineteen and in my first year at art school. I looked around and thought; Wow, everyone here is kind of a weirdo! I found a place to belong! Previous to that I had tried two universities - Sophia, Tokyo and Sydney and found the whole academic world to be far too passive - too rote - too dry - and mostly unrewarding for me. At art school it was all about doing - expressing who we were - as honestly and intensely as possible. Not about being fed a whole bunch of old, preexisting concepts from books. We were there to discover and find meaning by making stuff - images, drawings, paintings, sculptures. I was lucky, cause back then National Art School was 95% practical. Just doing. There was an art history class - but it was just looking at slides after smoking joints and casually discussing images together and with the teachers - who were all practicing artists. Indeed, in third year of the painting major, we were each given a small studio space on the top floor an old sandstone jail and instructed to go for it. Teachers would drop by now and then for a chat, but really it was about allowing us to forge out own ways. A lot was learnt from each other. I loved being friends with and hanging out with artists back then as much as I do hanging out with musicians these days.

Back in high school in Tokyo, the group I eventually became part of was twofold. One was a couple of guys from the year below me. I was young for my class and although I did have a few friends it wasn’t till I somehow started hanging out with a Canadian, American and Brazilian guy from the class below (Richard, Kurt and Ricky) that I really found a place to belong. It helped that we were all non-conformists, rode motorbikes and liked partying. The other group I found place with was with the girls from the girls school. They would all go to a tiny basement cafe called Comos, in Hiroo, and drink coffee, smoke cigarettes and banter. Somehow, I became part of the gang. There were a few other guys, as well, but it was mostly the girls. A Hawaiian, a Texan, a Korean and a Japanese Brazilian were the stand outs. I learnt so much about life from these chicks. The Hawaiian girl, Jenny, and I became best friends eventually. She was one of the best people I have ever met. At the time, I was a little over weight and kind of an outsider, but through humour, a love of casual hanging out, and a willingness for explorative mischief in general - I became an integral member of the group. I was privy to some amazing stories and inside info! At school I was a non-achiever, not into sports or any extra curricular activities. I had trouble with authority and an efforts by teachers to order me around would get my back up. I mostly avoided trouble (by not getting caught) but did not find much value in the system - other than it supplying my clan and opportunities to facetiously rebel.

Another group that came out of this time was the night life people. I used to go out to discos and nightclubs and became friends with a number of Japanese nightclub workers, owners and partiers of the time. I also got to know some hostesses, high end call girls and members of the yakuza (tough but honourable). Being fluent in Japanese at the time was unusual and having lived there since the age of ten, I had insight into and respect for their traditions and mannerisms. I was a friendly, fun-seeking teen and was quickly able to become a kind of mascot to a number of interesting characters. In a few Roppongi nightclubs I was more than just a regular, I was availed special treatment - like being able to hang out in the DJ booth, sit in the VIP areas on occasion, and supplied with plenty of free drinks. It was pretty awesome. My preferred garb of the time was the full disco regalia - wide collared open shirt, vest and jacket - with heeled shoes or cowboy boots. I was as close to John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever as there was. It was an awesome time. A few times I almost got into some trouble, but somehow always managed to avoid anything serious. And again, it was because of my proximity and connection to the group that I was able to find meaning and satisfaction in the scene. I had incredible access to the Japanese ‘mizu shobai’ (nightlife world) of the time and got to witness and experience some dynamic and exciting things thanks to my proximity and friendships with key players.

A decade later, in the 90’s, it was all about film. A group of us used to hang out at the Tropicana cafe in Kings Cross - actors, writers, directors - and talk about projects and dreams. This was a fun bunch, too. I had found a new gang. The Tropfest was born in this time. I was there when it was first discussed - just an idea. John took it up and ran with it. My friend Rob Mac and I each had our short films in the first two - screened at the cafe itself back in those days. Rob and I went on to make a TV show called Coo-ee Australia for Japanese TV on spec. Many of the actors from those days have done well and we’re still friends. I continued to be involved in the film business for a decade, working on mostly Japanese TV commercials, TV shows and documentaries around Australia, New Zealand, the US and Japan. Film crews were my new family. Another fine bunch of people. Grips, DPs, art directors, runners. Lots of free spirits convening on projects. Like a circus troupe. Hard workers. Hard players.

After that I tried my hand at screenwriting, studying in LA. That was pretty solitary. I spent about three years immersed in that world. Studied at various places, read a thousand screenplays. One by one, I wrote six features. None of them got picked up. Maybe if there had been a gang, I may have endured.

The next group was poker players. What started as a casual tournament down at the local ended up lasting for a decade and over 3,000 tournaments. In the end I was semi-professional, making a few hundred a week, playing most nights, travelling around to wherever a good game was. Poker players are another strange breed. Itinerant, quirky, strong personalities. I got to know some good people, making friends from Lithuania, Germany, Britain and the US, as well as plenty of Aussies. Shared some good adventures and laughs.

So… it’s all about the people. Forming connections, bonds. Finding your tribe, or tribes that fit with what you are doing. Sharing pursuits, passions, techniques, goals, dreams. And now that I consider it all, it is the friendships and those special connections that endure. Memories were made. Some I will never see again. Most. But it doesn’t matter. We shared some good times together. It’s good to be part of a gang, affiliated with and immersed together in a common pursuit. We humans are good for each other.

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Speculator/Spectator

24/3/2018

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I mean, I can only write what I write, eh?

Sometimes I manufacture an internal pressure based on expectation that I should be writing ‘better’ or creating content more poignant, meaningful, entertaining.

But all I can do is reflect on my life.

So what if it’s not world changing, spectacular, of pristine quality? None of that is me, anyway. I’m just an ordinary guy making my way through life, taking it as it comes. Definitely not plotted out or polished.

Much of my time is spent just trying to deal with the challenges - physical, emotional, mental and circumstantial - that life presents me. As I am sure you know, and probably concur, it’s a full time job.

On top of all that administrative dealing - between the gaps, when I can, when I am able to/compelled to - I cruise into Creativille and check out what’s happening. Do a little composition, splash some paint around or play with some MIDI note sequencing.

This is my escape, my salvation. Getting into creative projects is one of my main sources of soothing distraction, uplifting hullabaloo, temporarily elevating salvation.

I know that in the long run none of it will mean anything - but what are you going to do? Lay down and die? Eventually, yes. But until then? Gotta do something. Everyone finds their thing(s), eventually.

Much of a life is just a reaction to what has happened already. Our childhoods - the time when we are least equipped to understand, adequately deal with complex emotions and demanding situations - is when reality comes crashing in and often overwhelms us. With our resilient, hopeful, naive little minds we do our best to makes sense of things and deal with what comes.

From when we hit our teens we begin to form our identities more succinctly and formulate through trial and error, instinct and deep consideration, contemplation strategies to carry us forward into the expansive unknown called our futures.

The thing is that much of what has happened, occurred during our early years is so random and essentially indecipherable that our young selves are not really capable of fully or properly resolving things. Of course, we do our best, but it’s a rare person who does not transition our of youth with a bevy of skewed perceptions, phobias and emotion packed time bombs that will have to be unpicked and disarmed over the next few decades.

On top of all this, there will be the ongoing, surging flow of incidents and accidents across the spectrum from delectable to horrific that will require thought, attention and action.

Essentially, we are not properly equipped. It’s a loaded game.

Sure, there are times of relief, chill, uplifting. Life can treat us royally for a time, as well.

Undoubtably, there is some magic, mystery, romance. Hopefully, the balance tips in favour of the positive. But some days, some weeks, some years - it’s difficult to believe this.

This is all just my perception, but it comes not just from self experience but from observation as well. I try to be accurate in my assessment and intuitive in my understanding of the life experience.

There’s nothing new in what I am talking about but I am not trying to write anything new. I am quite simply attempting to honestly transcribe my sequence of thoughts.

We think of writing, written works as being elevated, illuminating, polished. We read things that are written by people we believe know a little more than we do, can tell us things that will help us on our journeys.

But my writing - it’s not like that. I’m no professor, no expert, no preacher.

I have way more questions than answers. I’m more an off-the-cuff speculator/spectator than a sanctimonious expert. I’m a muddy, ruffled, fellow soldier down the trenches rather than an order-wielding officer acting like I have the answers. It is a war out there (in here) and in a way it’s every man and woman for themselves. (But, thankfully, most of the time - when we most need it, someone else is sometimes there for us.)

Sometimes it feels over the top. Cruel, even. Writing stuff like this helps me come to terms with things - even though I present no resolution, offer no tips or suggestions. If I could, I would. But like I have been saying; I’m no expert.

Like you (maybe), I just make things up as I go along.

Life goes in waves and for me, at the moment, due to a concerted effort in pursuing positive activities and showing behavioural restraint as well as a run of fortune that seems to be close to 50/50 (I’ll take it!), I am feeling mostly able to deal with where things are at. Some days, naturally, feel decidedly more challenging than others but if I consider things - like say this last week for example - I have had more good days than bad.​

Is this constant barrage of burdens, small, medium and large, part of some bigger plan? It seems not. Then - why?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

But if I stumble upon anything prophetic, enlightened, if I suddenly become a saviour, a guru or even a more eloquent, informed and incisive writer all of a sudden; I’ll let you know. Until that time,  I guess we are both just going to have to make do with this kind of casual confessional/conjecture, this candid, unsophisticated deliberation.

​Make the best of what is.



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Between Havoc and Implosion

3/9/2017

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Gotta make blunders to find wonders
Gotta screw up to get in touch
You gotta go the wrong way
More than once
To learn the right ways
To overcome adversity
It’s a real world perversity
That it has to be this way

Pretty clear
Yeah
What I am saying

Everyone loves the underdog
Because everyone has been that pup
That struggles just to continue
That labours to get up

Sometimes
It’s a ruthless fight
An endless road
The long and listless, dark and dire night
A heavy load
A wounding blight

That’s all she wrote
Cause she’s lost her pen
Her computer broke
Then she got shot
After a random stop
By a grim and sinister policeman

It happens a lot more than you think!

It’s a crazy world
You know it
Can be savage and unmerciful
The passage through
Can get hysterical
And not in the funny way
Like Monty Python
Or Curb

It’ll leave your best laid plans vagrant
In disarray, scattered and shat on
Leave you standing there
Naked, bloody, broken
Stupefied
In stunned dismay
Like the rest of us
Almost completely unqualified

I got no answers
This is just a mildly pacifying poem
I wrote to pass the time
Give me a little breather
Between havoc and implosion
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Surrender To Your Soul

2/4/2017

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I have an idea
I have a thought
I have certain feelings
That could never be bought

I can imagine
I can mind bend
Create unique concepts
That help me transcend

Everyday life
Is one thing
But don't be limited to that
Let your thoughts come alive
Mould your own habitats

I say to you
Like I would've said to myself
When I was younger
If I could have

I say to you
You are born full of treasure
Full access is yours
Limitless, amazing realms to discover
As your life gently occurs

They teach you all kinds of things 
On the outside
Tools they believe you will need 
As some of it is useful
To help you to grow and to succeed

But the best stuff
My dear friends
Nobody else can ever reveal
It resides deep inside you
A gold mine
Boundless in vitality and value

How to access?
Well, that is for you to figure out
But the most important thing is first 
To trust, to believe in yourself
Not to doubt

Heed what I am saying
For over a long life 
I have discovered 
Innate wisdom
A fine kingdom
Far beyond crude limitations of 
Categories and egoism
Far beyond learnt narrations of 
Simple glories and competition
Beyond everyday callings
Real world obligations
Physical longings
Daily frustrations

I'm talking 
A whole new paradigm
The infinite, soulful magic 
That awaits to be born from your mind

It is there
It is yours
To uncover and to find

So seek, search, strive
To satiate your hunger
For something bigger, greater, truer
More pure, better designed
No matter how obscure it may seem
Don't mind
The most amazing thing you will ever know
Is the magnificence of your authentic light

And the ironic truth is
That finding your way through the blackest darkness
Is the way that you will find it
So fear not 
And forge forward

Trust, seek, surrender
To your soul
And where it leads







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Being is Winning

5/1/2017

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​     Sometimes I feel just so goddam sensitive, it's unnerving. It's like a state of moderate hyper- awareness in which many, many aspects of living feelings, thoughts and emotions come flooding in to make me feel (temporarily) overwhelmed. It would be easy to categories it as anxiety but I don't think that is what it is. I had a period of ongoing anxiety attacks in my mid thirties (completely uninvited and, I believed, unwarranted) which I dealt with - at the insistence of my doctor at the time - by attended an Anxiety Management Program at the Prince of Wales Hospital. I was hesitant and uncomfortable about it but I went anyway. The good news is the process was phenomenally effective - and I have not had a full blown anxiety attack since. Pretty good, eh. It was a group situation - round table - with a program facilitator who used a white board and spoke, asked questions, directed us. I can't recall exactly but I believe it was two hours per week for eight weeks. One of the things that struct me first was that, as bad as my experiences were, some people had it a lot worse. This was a relief. Then, as is the Aussie way, we all were able to share some good laughs along the way. A big part of anxiety attack management is being able to recognise the early stages and rein it in before it escalates beyond your control. Once you learn this and a few techniques it is possible to never again succumb to it's powers. It was quite a breakthrough.


What I do get these days does not get to the level of heavy breathing and cold sweats. It is not an attack so much as a slow infiltration. Or a sudden realisation that I am in occupied territory. I know now, from experience, that in order to not become a victim, I need to stay cool and ride it out. It is not crippling (although it threatens to be). But it is present. There's a touch of agoraphobia, general unease and questioning, mild disassociation.

I am willing to share this stuff here because I know that it is not unique to myself. Without exception, we all go through similar tribulations. By sharing our truths we can dissipate the negative impact. Like in the group therapy - once we know we are not alone we become emboldened. There is nothing wrong with us that is not wrong with everyone else. We humans are flawed. And occasional over sensitivity is something we all experience. Even if it is in isolation, as it most always is in my case, we can find strength in the knowledge that it isn't personal and actually part of the mission agenda. It's a test we are innately designed to endure. It will pass. Staying cool really is something that can and should be cultivated. It gets easier with age (I find). You have got this far, been through so much - what's one more fucking mind fuck?!

I recently finished Bruce Springsteen's autobiography and he was openly candid about his own bouts of anxiety and depression. It his him pretty damn hard at times. I felt for him while reading it. But I also greatly admire his candour. Screw ego - he knows - it goes way beyond that shit. If we can help each other survive and overcome by sharing our own stuff - well, that's a great thing.

Like I have said before in these pages, while I definitely speak my truth and share my mind spontaneously and without censure here, one may be able to piece together some idea of who I am as a person, it would only be just that. An idea. A notion. Influence and coloured by each individuals own life experience/understanding and tailored to suit. I am not presenting pieces of a puzzle that add up to a portrait (of my internal self). I am, rather, disseminating seeds, throwing out handfuls for you to plant at will and grow your own shade and fruit bearing trees from. Once I send it out there, once you read it, it becomes yours to do with as you will. 

My motivation is two-fold: one - to come to understand myself a little better and - two - to help you to understand yourself a little better by recognising aspects and traits, beliefs that we have in common and gently meditating on them.

Since I was young, early teens, I have not been that interested in history, geography, physics, chemistry (the list goes on - a mirror of my high school curriculum, ha ha). I have been interested in reading about peoples lives, their stories and I have been interested in the teachings and wisdom of philosophers and spiritual investigators/trailblazers. Digging deep into the complex meanings and infinite permutations of the human condition. Those all time favourites like - Why are we here? What does it all mean? 

I know now, unanswerable, of course, but nevertheless, worth grappling with. It's not for everyone but for me it's like UFC (mixed martial arts fighting). Train and train, give it my all - and when it comes time to get in the ring - like more than a few times last year, like yesterday - with my opponent (The Metaphysical Master) I stand strong and come out swinging. My goal: last the five (or three) rounds. Not get knocked out. I know I won't ever get an outright win, per say, but not crumbling, being KO'ed is a victory in itself. Then, it's back to the gym - my contemplation, my writing, my personal/spiritual investigations, my creative endeavours - to strengthen my core, quicken my jab, work on my defence. Cause I'm a fighter. We all are. Being here demands it. There is no escape. The cage doors are locked during the bouts and you can not give up. It's not for glory. It's survival. 

And the beauty, the true magnificence of the resilience we each possess, we all possess is one of the things that makes being a participant, an inhabitant on planet earth, rewarding. It would not hurt  for us to acknowledge this simple wonder more often. The quiet strength and innate courage that each of us is made of. Just being is winning. We are all winners. We are all fucking champions as far as I am concerned. I bow down to each and every one of you in awe and respect. Because I know (more of less) what you go through. And it isn't easy.
​


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Everyone's A Winner

16/8/2016

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The appealing thing about watching the Olympics is that all the participants, human beings just like you and me, are living their lives to their fullest potential. They are constantly challenging and pushing their own limits and they are fully participating and interacting with every new day in a dynamic and go-getter way. They face their fears and conquer them. Of course, they, too, are fallible but their attitude towards difficulties is much more ferocious and unforgiving than most of us. They want to be their best. They want to win.

And for many of the rest of us, the viewers, we can relate to that feeling. We, too, want to win. Everyone likes to win. But we don't put it all on the line like they do. They represent the best of us and the best of what is inside us. 

Some days it's hard for me just to go to the post office. It means stopping, find a parking spot, waiting in line... if I don't have to do it that day, I will put it off. I don't need to empty the bin when it's 96% full. It can wait. Why rush it? When it's full, I will take it out. When I say full, I mean slightly overflowing. Sure, clean sheets feel crisp and scrumptious. But when is the time to make the effort to change the old ones? Slept in sheets have their own charm. They've been with you for the last few weeks, they've molded their shape to fit snugly beneath you. They are familiar and accommodating. They don't demand to be changed. It's up to you. One more night isn't going to make that much difference. Besides, who likes doing the washing. Washing machines are ogre-like. They involve waiting. Loading, unloading, and then damp clothes must be hung up. Each article - one by one...

As you may have surmised from my little stream of consciousness rant - I am not an Olympian. I'm an everyday dilly-dallier, a loveable sloth, a lazy dog in the sun, a drifter, a serial procrastinator.

I don't win medals. 

And yet, my pursuits, my trials and tribulations are just as confronting to me as the final 100 metres is to a world class sprinter. It is not that different.

When I eventually get round to vacuuming my room, I feel like a champion. When I drag myself out of bed after falling asleep trying to watch that one-too-many-eps of GOT or 'The Night Of' and make it to the bathroom to properly wash my face and brush my teeth, I feel like I have stepped up onto the podium, medal ready. When I finally finish a piece of writing that I have been avoiding because IT'S HARD, I raise my arms and fall to my knees and sob. No one is watching, it isn't being televised, but that doesn't matter. I've clinched gold.

We are all in the Olympics. Every day. We all try our best, really, even if it appears to be slacking off at times. We fight for survival, we try to work things out, we deal with wave after crashing wave of conflict and drama that sometimes threaten to drown us. We keep our heads above water.

That's the game. We find ourselves here, in it. Quick learners, all of us; we adapt, do our best, carry on. 

I say three cheers to all the athletes, sure. But another round of applause and a 'Whooo!' for all the rest of us, too. There are no losers. If you've turned up and you are taking it on, you're a fucking champion. Don't forget it.
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Life Is A Biscuit

12/3/2016

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Identity. What is it?

It's a paradox that while we constantly strive (consciously and subconsciously) to formulate our identities, to construct some kind of workable approach and ideology in regards to the demands and apparitions of daily life, that at certain points we come to the realisation that this internal system we have worked so hard to devise and refine is the very thing that is containing and limiting our true being. 

What was once crucial to our survival, adaptation, becomes a hinderance; almost a prison of sorts.

And in the moment of this understanding there is a wild feeling of despair, confusion and even anger. WTF, we ask ourselves. I have worked so hard. And all that, all struggling to work things out, all the coping mechanisms that I patched together from available strands of inner strength and learning- the-hard-way lessons... all that has become obsolete, useless?!
What am I supposed to do? Start again?

But, no. You have advanced. It's just that at certain points you plateau, then eventually arrive at the base camp for new ascents. For this you need new tools and strategies. Sure, it's admirable that you made it this far. But you have done so only to face an even more formidable level. And so it goes on.

It creeps up on you. The moment you get too comfortable.

That, in fact, is a good indicator that something is going to change. 

Some people, try to pre-empt the challenges by never letting down their guards, constantly attacking new slopes. It is an admirable technique, one that does offer some success, but it is not infallible and neither does it let you escape the inevitable curve balls, hidden trap doors, pratfalls that we all must endure.

Some go the opposite route entirely and try to minimise everything. Limit feelings, stick with routine, play it safe. This may seem to work for a while, too, but not for long.

So what can we grasp from this? Life is struggle, life is challenge. However you approach it, you are going to be tripped up, tested, put through the ringer. Assuming this to be true, then accepting it, what approach is best?

Hell, I don't know!! Ha ha ha. I'm no guru. I'm no expert. I'm just a minion, a foot soldier; muddy faced and bruised up - lucky still to be alive. Not sure, why I am even writing this. Like I've mentioned before, I just sit down and let it flow. Sometimes there is a resolution, a sensible form, and others, well, they just leave you hanging. 

Everything is a journey into the unknown. A step in the dark. We just tell ourselves otherwise in order to feel comfortable, to cope. We make habits, follow routines, stick to schedules. It seems to help. Chaos has a format and it is called 'Life'. Make up theories and rules and overlay plans and structures as much as you like - it makes no difference in the long run. 

Pop! You are born! Psst! You are dead!

The stuff in between is marshmallow.

​
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just keep walking

1/5/2015

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Picture
Everyday things fill our time. We go to the supermarket. We make food and eat it. We wash ourselves, our garments, our bedsheets, our pets, our cars... We chat with each other - in person, on the phone, at work, at home, in the streets. We walk around a lot, to and fro. We drive everyday. We sleep regularly. We empty our bodies of ablutions. We sometimes read. We look at the computer. 

These are all regular things that we do daily. What time is there for anything else? What grander achievements can we expect to slot in to our busy 'basic maintenance' schedules. 

There are also things like balancing our finances, paying bills, post office visits, health checks, dentist visits, maybe a course or a fitness class. Something of leisure.

The list goes on. Being a human is busy work. There's a lot going on. Demands. Expectations. Duties. It takes effort just to get from one day to the next. There's always something on top of the regular, too.

Invitations to events. Dinners. Functions. Arrangements. Family obligations. Friends in need.

What time do we have to make plans for a better world? Let alone implement them!

Didn't we think, when we were young and fired up, full of bluster and idealism, that we were going to make a difference? That we could do great things, great things? 

What happened? 

Life happened. That's what. Life doesn't go the way you think it will. Some bits do, of course. It's not all random. But, overall, mostly, things turn out very, very differently to what we expected. 

There's another sticky factor - our beliefs. The hodge-podge mix of input we have brewed up in our heads over our individual evolution into some kind of system/structure that we use to assess and quantify reality and it's never ending stream of new challenges.

What side am I on? Is this group good or bad? Is such and such an action justified because of this or that personal prejudice?

As well, for the religious, there is a whole world of expectations and pressures.

Our world view is in constant flux but at the same time, somewhat rigidly defined. It's made up of all kinds of things that we have filtered and filed. It's got flavours of fact and fiction and we are accustomed to it's taste. We stand by ourselves - as in we believe in what we believe.

But the truth is - it's all just a construct. The space needs to be filled with something. So we fill it. Are there better ways to be? Surely. Are we perfect - or even close? Surely not. We make the best with what we've got.

In many ways, it's a miracle that we all still function on a daily basis. Those in networks - family, friends, work - have a slight advantage. We humans need support. For the loners, the mavericks, the outsiders... it can all get too much.

What I am sharing here is my realisation that the difference between the internal narrative of 'what life could be/how I wish life was' and the external manifestation of how life actually unfolds is, upon examination, immense.

We are not only mortal, with limited powers, it appears that on many levels we are completely inconsequential. 

We do what we can with what we have. 

No wonder many choose to default to fantasy and escapism. The imagination, dreams - they're good places to go. Things work out there. Things, those great things we thought about long ago - and maybe still, those great things are possible in the inner realm.

For now, that will have to suffice. 




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    Lewie JPD 
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