oceans of harmony

Am I swimming in thin water, just ahead of the tide that’ll drown me in a pool of mediocrity I don’t know. Time as usual will tell.  But I look around and see the sea of obfuscating pedantics it’s hard not to get caught up in it.  Working alone, seeking advice, looking for agreement, confirmation, I’m asking those who know no better than I and I am left to my own devices.

I listen to rock and roll and the rebellion builds but at the end of the day I am no different.  It’s all about having a plan.  Plan to rebel but do so knowing where you’re going.  The clock ticks and everyone looks younger by the minute.  And yet I don’t feel old.  Except for fragile eyes and breaking teeth I could be twenty years younger. 

The cleaner enters the room emptying the wastebasket, leaves the door open, afternoon gaggles of girls walk by causing commotion with no effort.  I am grateful to be here, but is this it?  What must I do to rebel and be happy?  Contentment is a fleeting ideal.  Get the wife, a few kids, a couple of dogs, and go through each day hoping for something else. 

I returned to the desert with a plan that is so filled with doubt I am ready to go again and where may that be but south.  In the land of monsoons, coconut trees and oceans of harmony.  Not necessarily in the walls of my occupation but outside it.  A quality of life filled with nature.  The balance between the mundane and ordained.  Well, if it is meant to be, it will happen.  I’m never feeling strong about anything unless it’s survival, what’s a plan if it fizzles.  Restlessness has to end.  I have to find a home. 

 

She had a good heart and through terrible moments she came to the surface and is now in good hands.  I think.  She has her daughter and she paints.  A talent is there I didn’t know and she probably didn’t either but the right circumstances revealed a gift.  I didn’t know I could take a decent photo until I was awakened to it. 

A candid conversation:

Teacher:  So, tell us something about yourself.

Student:  Well, I have three mothers and 21 brothers and sisters.  We all live in the same house.

Teacher:  Whoa!  And what does your father do?

Student:  He doesn’t work.

Teacher:  I should think not.  Where are you in the order?

Student:  Number twelve I think.

Teacher:  Can you name your brothers and sisters?

Student: Ha, please teacher, don’t ask this.

Teacher:  But you’re happy, right?  Everything is good?

Student:  Ah yes, I am happy, everyone happy.

Family.  Family is supposed to be your place of happiness, right?  Unless of course you’re stuck in a mean family.  I was so fortunate to grow up in a happy family.  Sure there were moments of dysfunction but something kept pulling us out of the terrible no good moments.  It’s been nine years since the parents left us.  Time heals the loss but the memory continues and oh thank you God, Om, whoever the hell you are.  Those who are dead are not dead they’re just living in my head. 

The spirits sure want to see something happen, don’t they?  Do they live a restless life as well?  Every day for thousands of years they anticipate something.  That is a bummer.