Today

I felt the negativity wash over me

and everything I have never wanted

surged and overwhelmed,

engulfing me in such a wave that

I knew I would have to swim much 

harder to reach the distant shore.

When you were young, you played with your friends and used your imagination, dreaming of a better world–even if that world was just for you.

You didn’t think about Us versus Them, and you didn’t hope to grow up to hate and fear, your eyes glued to a small screen, fingers scrolling endlessly through bad news into worse news.

When you were young, the World was wide and Forever meant something. You didn’t think about bills and hardships. In all likelihood, you didn’t worry about your health, or stress about paying bills. If your family wasn’t perfect, you still loved them, and maybe you even spent some time together.

Sitting in front of a computer screen, watching, reading, and absorbing years of negative energy was not a goal. 

When you were young, you didn’t think you would log into a program and willingly pass your days letting the thoughts and actions of others affect You–the product and creation of your parents, imperfections notwithstanding, a Being capable of shaping your own desires and pursuing them. You did not dream of denying others happiness. You might even have thought about how you might bring joy to others. 

Now the days pass, and the moments in which you catch a glimpse of your former Self, you do not recognize or remember that World. 

I do. 

You were born for more. It is time to remember.

when the cycle goes long enough

you will be around to watch

the rebuilding after the disassembly

and

if you pay attention this time

you can see the organization

the substructure

the arrangement

and you can decide if this time

is the time that you will actually do something

to make it work

or if you prefer to just watch

the entire thing happen again

and again

A busy few months and then (suddenly) spring

Had a long talk with a friend tonight

After one of those madcap days that was over as soon as it began

And sitting there long after the others had cleared out

The conversation veered toward deeper things

As is customary such nights

 
We shared a few stories and grinned at some

But shook our heads at others and sighed

It was clear (to both of us)

That this was the best it had been in quite some time (on many levels)

And that would normally be cause for celebration

But not everybody in our circles sees it that way

Which is one of the great mysteries in life

Let alone mid-adulthood (after many tough lessons learned)

So it was off to bed to see how the sun would greet us the next day

On the drive home I felt again how happiness is a choice (after a point)

And we should all be lucky enough to reach that fork

(I hope some of the others feel that too)

we drove huddled together in a VW hatchback

to see your arms flail rhythmically to synthesized music

in a former church outside Detroit

and there wasn’t a doubt that you were doing exactly

what you were supposed to when

you let your art wash over you

even the less-inclined could not resist your happiness

when you let the light in

and years later I still think about how much the rest of us

might feel if we could but just open the valves

and remember what imagination and love

for what moves us feels like

So, in March I retire officially from scheduled shifts, making anytime I work “guest appearances.” It sounds good–I like it, people smirk. All good. 

Tonight: magic hour, 6 pm. Universal din-din time. Not bad. Crew is solid 3 out of 4, old-school dynamics in play, lots of synergy. Media and pop-culture references a’plenty. Time passes quickly. Job #1 wears me out, as nobody realizes that (most of us) we are all in it to help people. Thus, all efforts post-Job #1 should be filed under “extraordinary effort,” although it does not count for anything.

Then: eight o’clock, the final power hour. Easy orders. Easy smiles. A half-hour in, a couple comes in. They’re into each other, best-friend style, and it’s refreshing. Automatically, it’s Ashley and me by association.

Guy: youngish, semi-afro, REI shirt. Girl: tech gear, Pacific-Islander look. Neither are Yinzers, and it’s obvious. They order a local beer and a double IPA, split a sandwich, and I think, “This is not the normal run of things.” 

I get distracted by a few orders, then, after craning my neck for a better view of the parking lot, I ask Dana what beer they ordered. Parked slightly out of view out front is a maroon first-generation MDX, loaded for adventure. Bike tires peer out from the rear hatch, while a massive, overstuffed soft luggage bag strapped up top partially obscures a surfboard. The rear suspension sags under the weight of their cargo, and I realize that this is no ordinary road trip.

I place two beer bottles in a 6-lb bag, and write “Happy Trails!” in the middle as I tape it shut. I wait a little more than ten minutes for the couple to pack up, and then I walk around the corner and smile, placing the bag in front of them, saying sincerely, “I noticed your MDX is ready for adventure, and I can’t wait for mine to be. Good luck, and happy trails.”

Guy: (genuine, deep smile) “Aw, thanks, man! That’s really nice of you. We’re halfway there.”

Me: “I hope your adventures are everything they should be. Best of luck!”

They threw away their trash, smiled warmly and waved as they left. I watched them back out, then smiled at the gentle rocking of the Acura’s suspension as they drove out of the plaza parking lot. 

I thought about how every (single) day is another chance at happiness. 

I thought a lot about what I might 

Think at such milestones, but just 

Like every other marker, it came and 

Went, with takeaways: Arrive, 

Experience, Learn, Evolve. 

A shame, how long 

…it’s a difficult Sunday when I have more than ten tabs open

and multiple social media applications are telling me which clothes are the best and which

models are the prettiest and most handsome and which shoes will make me feel better

about my life while at the same time my mind reminds me that last night’s flurries and

this week’s projected high temperatures herald the disappearance of a winter barely felt

only to usher in a spring full of To-Do Lists and a general anxiety that suggests all is not

well–not well at all–and the neurons firing more rapidly than an M41A Pulse Rifle in

synapses deeper than the Mariana Trench between my hemispheres and I’m

remembering seeing a Lamborghini when I was seven years old seated in the back seat

with my older cousin

who swore it was a “Fiarri” and I had to correct him. This is happening at the same time

that Asahi makes me wonder if it is, in fact, Japan’s No. 1 Beer, and I think about which

snow cone flavors are the best after you ride your BMX to a local pool or arcade. Politicians

are on TV talking about their dick size, heroin and crystal meth are in apartments in

neighborhoods where ice-cream truck soundtracks used to ring when parents were close

to the end of their workday. All of this, and my User Progress is incrementally creeping up

in an online class that will serve as a functional fractional effort to boost my meager salary

which will become wholly unnecessary the moment I sell this house which I can afford

solely through the willpower to work multiple jobs in a town that is not mine in a

community that does not want progress in a state that consistently ranks in the bottom

ten percent of anything that is ranked by magazines in an area of the country that was

once a Captain of Industry. I am left wondering what happened to imagination and being

unnaturally naturally happy and thinking about the next cool thing to do while reading

books or watching movies and spending time with people that made you feel good and

how that is not necessarily a thing when you are an adult. It is at this point in time that I

push this particular train through the tunnel and see how many of you will read it and

think about the last time you

…standing there for a second, unsure of what to do. The light refused to show him, which did not quite make sense. His shoulder shifted, and part of the empty parking lot behind him was obscured. He took a long sip, and sighed deeply. “Now,” he growled. “I’ve been around a long, long time. Watching. And I never could understand why people keep doing things they don’t like doing.”

“That’s how a lot of misery is spread in this world.”

Are you investing in joy? Are you spending your time cultivating pain?