OK, wake up the kids...READ, please!~~~"The love of wilderness is more than a hunger for what is always beyond reach; it is also an expression of loyalty to the earth, the earth which bore us and sustains us, the only paradise we shall ever know, the only paradise we ever need, if only we had the eyes to see. . . . No, wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit, as vital to our lives as water and good bread."
~ Edward Abbey (1927-1989)
Posted by Ocean at 06:24 PM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
old...105 degrees, the day jfk jr. crashed...
Did you ever have a really bad week, where you figured "If I went skydiving, and the shoot didn't open, ..oh well, who cares?"So I jumped out of a plane at 10,000 feet today. It was a tandem jump, which means you got a guy strapped to your back who knows what he is doing. This allows you to freefall for 45 seconds or so, and do some little tricks. Endorphins are pretty good for depression.
Ofcourse, I'm now on crutches - hours before the jump, I twisted my ankle in a hole in the grass while running. I have never seen my ankle so swollen. This is not swell. Like I said, shitty week.
Its also hotter than a witch's burning broom stick again.
Anyway, I must really have my head up my ass, because I didn't even get nervous. The whole thing was so surreal. When you are freefalling, there is no sense of the ground rushing up to splat you. It was one of those "different" basically alive feelings that you just gotta experience. (The experience cannot be accurately be described - ya gotta do it!).
So whats bugging me? Sometimes I blame it all on money. Sometimes I blame it all on woman. Sometimes I blame it all on me. Its currently all of the above. I guess this to will pass.
Anyway, if you ever have the opportunity to skydive, go for it. Big smile.Put me on ice.
Posted by Ocean at 02:20 PM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
I think problems with trust are just part of the human condition. Everyone has a problem or a potential problem with trust. Think back to before you had (*HURT*). Think back to high school or maybe junior high. Anyone remember getting dumped for someone else? Someone pulls the rug out from under your feet and you land on you ass. You feel crushed. Betrayed. Lost. Your heart just got ripped out, and you feel unworthy. Your self esteem may plummet. If you got hurt, you may have a problem with trust. But just before the break-up, did you really become less desireable, worthy, decent? I doubt it.
(I'm leaving parents et al out of this post.)
What did you do after you got burned? You met someone else. Maybe this person was more trustworthy, and the trust problem diminished. Maybe the next person made the first look like a saint. Your trust problem got worse. But you met someone else.
(*Hurt*) can definetely amplify the problem, but it is not THE problem. Anyone who was ever rejected in any way and emotionally hurt, does not want to risk more rejection and pain. They don't want to open up and expose their vulnerability... to allow someone to see inside to evaluate their worthiness.
...Actually, I think people do *want* to expose their vulnerability...more than anything. Its a chance to be accepted at the deepest, most honest level. Its the risk that's the hard part. The risk that instead of acceptance, you will be rejected again.
But that leap of faith, that laying it all on the line, can lead to trust, emotional intimacy, a total acceptance, and a nice surge in self esteem.
Ofcourse it can also lead to rejection and pain. As a kid, you were resilient. Thats how you learned to ride a bicycle. Crash. Ouch. Mistrust bike. OK, try again. Crash. And on, and on. Until you learned how to ride it.
To err is human. Even trustworthy people will let you down sometimes. When you try to trust someone, dont expect them to be God. Expect them to be human. But dont be to surprised if they are godly.
Don't label yourself as inadequate, because of other people's actions. Their actions are probably more due to their reasons, not yours. Be resilient. Be a kid. Don't expect miracles. At the same time, dont rule them out.
(*Hurt*) makes life difficult if you were burned badly by it and by making you more vulnerable. (*Hurt*) is also a tool, a magnifying glass, which can focus the abstract vulnerabilities of your soul into a simple CONFESSION of the innermost you. Its a tool which can be used to build solid relationship foundations. Once you have this magical foundation, Everyday can be a risk. Anyday, you can lose this complete acceptance. It could last a day or a lifetime. So take it one day at a time with appreciation. Trust may follow.
Brandon all wet
My nephew now swims like a fish.
Posted by Ocean at 06:07 PM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
took a stroll in the fog
aimless
I have targets
they're there, but obscured
though I can't see them
I sense them
I can't take off the safety
can't point and shoot
at clouds...
I'm loaded and ready
...my finger won't trigger
my desire
and my want fades into mist
no one sees through heavy cloud cover
where i hide
no one has a map
into my myst
I drown in evaporation
I need condensation
a raincoat
a lifeboat
and a hand
to hold
as I torch a brighter vapor trail
on the selves we've sold
and what we could flame
under warm firelight
but its always the same
another frame...
under-exposed.
Posted by Ocean at 12:03 PM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
(Olympic NP, Washington.)
...The fog has turned to haze. Forcast calls for brighter haze, with increasing visability.
Posted by Ocean at 11:51 AM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
It was a good day considering it revolved around death.
For some reason I always look for little coincidental signs when heading to the cemetary. I remember when my grandfather died, I was sitting in the back of a limo following the hearse. As we pulled onto the expressway, the first car that passed was a catallac - the same model and color as my grandfather's. Its liscence plate was "2 LIFE".
Today we gathered at a church for a mass for frankie. At the end, when we were filing out, frank sr. (frankie's dad), met an old friend who was pretty shaken up. This guy, who never bought the newspaper, had just by chance bought one for the hell of it. He opened it up straight to the obituaries. He read frankie's obit, and recognized the names. He lives two blocks from the church, so he showed up, kind of on a whim. Turns out, at one time, he was frank sr's best friend and 1st business partner. The business fell apart in 1964, and they had somehow lost touch and had not spoken since. It was an emotional reunion.
From there, we went to the cemetary. I drove my friend's mini-van with his family, since they were shaken up too, and my friend had to make some phone calls. (In keeping with the tread, his cesspool backed up, so he needed to get it pumped out while we were doing the funeral thing, so everyone could meet up there afterwards).
Driving home from the cemetary, it was sleeting and snowing. For some reason that we can't figure out, the defroster stopped working. It was still blowing hot air on the windshield, but it would'nt unfog. We tried hot air, cold air, open windows - nothing worked except for napkins as we continuously, furiously wiped the inside of the windshield non-stop in order to see the road. During this time, "Highway to Hell" came on the radio. We started singing to break the tension. As the song was ending, I joked "Hey, its only frankie fucking with us!". As if on cue, the DJ let out a weird laugh and said, "Ain't that the truth!". We all were laughing our asses off.
We got back to my friend's house, the cesspool was taken care of, food was cooked, beer and drinks were bought, and there was a full house. Everyone kind of opened up and let go. I had a great conversation with frank sr, talking about my perspective on frankie. He really opened up, and told me a lot of what frankie had gone through. Everyone was really opening up. Frankie was a bad-boy rebel, so we were all telling stories of the bad things we did as teenagers. Frank sr. learned a few things he didn't know about us "kids", but he seemed to love it. After, the bad stories, the current kids started coming upstairs, and seemed very curious and comforted and warmed by the atmosphere - just great vibes. They got a sense that despite frankie's death, life was really still good.
Then after a while, it turned into an "Irish" funeral. Loud, loaded, relief. I didn't drink much, but others did. I stole my room mate's keys from his car that was warming up outside, since he and his GF were drunk, and he was about to drive his kids home. He looked like he was gonna get pissed for a minute, then just went with the flow. The minor non-incident passed, and everyone continued with the good vibes. Talking, telling jokes, telling stories, and occasionally stairing at the coffee table. On the table sat a framed picture of frankie, ...a sparkle in his eye, and the biggest smile I ever saw on a face. RIP.
Posted by Ocean at 12:57 AM | Permalink | | Comments (0)