Archive

On With the Story

Nonfiction seems to flow out of me better than fiction. I can string a sentence or two together in ways more or less pleasing to the reader. I can also talk about, around, and through an idea to find a new perspective on it or at least one that is

Daystart MN.21.MAR.22

Is this the start of a new practice? Maybe? Some thoughts to start the day. I slept in. I woke up and went back to sleep rather. The last few weeks have seen me slip on the discipline front; repeatedly. I'm not sure why, but lord knows I

The Brink

Russia is invading Ukraine, slowly but surely. The free world has seen it coming for some time now, but that doesn't seem to slow its inexorable, inevitable progress. There are false flag operations and ginned up pretexts that we all knew were coming but that seem to be

Not Emotional

I am not prone to emotional displays. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you I'm a fairly level-headed dude. I tend toward the calm and laconic. So much so that I often make it a point to consciously turn up the emotional engagement dial

Grats

They say gratitude is one of the healthiest virtues to cultivate. Whoever they are, I tend to believe them. Even when I am at my lowest, I still dimly sense a connective thread that there is more wonder in this world than we can handle on a daily basis and

February

It was a blue sky day here in central Florida. The wind was cool and the morning temperatures played around in the low 5os, before rising to 60-something in the late afternoon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, which felt great after the week or so of

Midlife Crisitunity

Photo by Jon Tyson [https://unsplash.com/@jontyson?utm_source=ghost&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=api-credit] / Unsplash [https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=ghost&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=api-credit] In some ways (many ways) I am acting out the script for a privileged cis white

And So We Begin Again

I messed around with blogging here during the first phase of the pandemic as a sort of release. It was a cathartic way for me to publicly worry about the collapse of the empire I call home in the wake of rampant plague and political systems failing. I got to

Chopping Wood, Carrying Water

A civil war may be brewing, but as we are reminded in the gospel of St. Henry, two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds and when you commit to using your body to move that weight there isn't room for existential dread.

Apocalyptica

The relative calm between November and now gave me a false sense of security. Seeing throngs of rioters overtake the Capitol in defiance of law and the very notion of civil society was shocking, yet somehow simultaneously totally expected.

Lordy

I feel solid in the world, heavy, massive in the sense that I exert a gravitational pull on people and objects around me. When I was young I orbited and bounced off things; now the world comes to me in many ways.

BRO

"Bro! Tell me we still know how to talk about kings! In the old days, everyone knew what men were: brave, bold, glory-bound.

Autumnal Hymn

I wore a sweater today (which is one of my favorite activities) as the temperature plunged to the mid-50s, which is a positively arctic chill to the good people of central Florida.

A Return of Sorts

Time with family was nice, but the circumstances just wouldn't let us feel normal. Maybe that's not really a thing anymore.

Anhedonia

I don't listen to music the way I used to. Who does?

Sign of the Times

Welcome to the back stretch of 2020, which is poised to go out like it came in.

Far Horizons

In better years I could travel to places that felt like I want to feel.

Exhalation

The skies are clear. I have exhaled all the way. My fists are unclenching and the tightness in my chest is disappearing as I inhale. And now, the work begins.

Held Breath

I can't escape the notion that no matter who sits in the White House in 2021 that there will be enough anger, fear, uncertainty, and doubt to make the next 4 years fractious, precarious, and dangerous. So, a lot like the last four years. Only more so.

The Age of Static

Psychic noise buzzes around the edges of an uncertain future. Looking to the past doesn't feel particularly instructive. There are no maps for these territories.

Hours Gained and Lost

I am never sure what time it is. I am never sure if I am where I am supposed to be or if I am running late. It's an appropriate state to be in on the night before the 2020 election.

Contact Tracing

Halloween passed without fanfare.

Urban Ideation

I would imagine myself hanging out on fire escapes and on water rooftop water towers. New York dominates the public imagination; it's an ur-city, a platonic ideal of the urban.

Damned If You Do

This is the first time in my political life that I have been worried about either potential outcome. I can't escape the feeling that dark days ahead no matter who wins the horse race.

Sand/Sieve

I do read some books on paper, though. It takes more effort than it used to. My brain has been warped and shallowed by the dopamine dispensers listed above. It doesn't take to extended narrative the way it used to. I want to read more, but it takes concerted effort.

Middle Ground

Your work self is not your public self, but neither is it as unconstructed as the self you project at home. And there is comfort in that; comfort that comes from sharing that level of friendship in the middle ground.

Finite Resources

I went to breakfast with my father this morning. Like most men perched on the early cusp of stately middle age, I am more aware of the reality of my parents' mortality every time I see them.

Prophet and Loss

Today, these dimestore prophets make the same rants but rather than screaming into the desert air, their ideas flow into a newer kind of void: the internet. Time will tell whether they are divinely inspired, mad as a hatter, or both.

Subjects in Rearview

We are all in constant conversation with the past. More specifically, with our past selves.

Phantom Limbs

The craziest thing about this crazy-ass year is the fact that reality has become stupider, not stranger, than fiction.

Prometheus Unplugged

The internet is a scary place and the scariest thing about it is that it is working as intended.

Manifestations of Fear

Easiest on the ego if we avoid facing the possibility that we are less clever, less brilliant, less thoughtful than we imagine ourselves to be and the best way to keep from taking that risk is to avoid the work itself.

The Crushing Weight of Warm Blankets

At night, I am typically worn out and love to just hang out with my family and binge watch streaming television but in the morning light, there is space and will and attention to turn inward and do some hard work.

Chopping Wood, Carrying Water

There are few things in life more satisfying than going to bed physically tired and immediately falling asleep.

Nostalgia

Back in the Before Times, drifting from downtown coffee shops to bookstores or breweries was fairly typical way for us to spend a Sunday afternoon but our world hasn't looked like that for a while.

Noise to Signal

I like to think of myself as a hard worker.

The Fisher King

The land and the king are one.

Sober October

It's somewhere between a test, a punishment, and a recalibration with elements of all three.

The Sheer Unmitigated Gall

Why add my voice to the chorus of woe?