Seventh Year Adventus

This whole thing started rather organically. Initially, it was a solitary attempt to centralize a collection of opinions and recommendations for movies, music, and local food and services. Over the years, though, it gradually shifted into narrative explorations of current events and personal reflections. Musings that were sporadic in cadence and content.

I vividly recall the exact day things took a turn. It was seven years ago, to the day. Someone I knew well and had worked with through an addiction shared something with me. During their recovery process, they mentioned how they were keeping a "gratitude journal". Every day, they referred to and responded to prompts from a short list of reflections designed to elicit insight, intention, and inspiration.

I was captivated by this idea. They shared the list of prompts with me at my request. There were a dozen or so, and they felt slightly intimidating as a whole. So, I grabbed just a few as a starting point. The next day, I started a routine of journaling daily. More significantly, I started journaling publicly. Even though it was still to a very isolated audience, if any at all, I embraced this move with a sense of intentional transparency.

My earlier writing efforts would occasionally be met with criticism by my ex-wife for what I would put into the "inter-verse". "What would people think" of my raw presentation of ideas and ideals? What if a job came along, but somebody found and disagreed with your post? By this point, we had separated, and at this stage in my life, as awkward as it might be (and was on at least one occasion) to go "fully open kimono" in this manner, it also felt genuine and honest. Throwing out opinions and positions, bawdy humor, and political stances meant being exposed and vulnerable. But only vulnerable to the judgment of others that themselves were in denial of their own raw humanity, uncertainty, anxieties, and a baseline unwillingness to admit to abstract thoughts, indiscretions, and idiosyncrasies.

Over the past seven years, my approach has evolved, or at least it has "changed" (evolution being a subjective perspective). I have strived to write daily, whether it's in brief or extensively, depending on the circumstances. With limited and sporadic misses here and there, it has proven to be a significant resource as well as a cathartic exercise.

During these past seven years, my divorce was finalized, I moved in with Jennifer, navigated custody transitions, introduced my kids to a new relationship, remarried in relative secrecy, cared for and buried Linda, reclaimed and remade a historical home, sent one child off to college and showed the other the door more than once, yet never closed. I stopped working, engaged in a Buddhist and stoic practice, gave group talks about life and death matters, while my mom received a timeline for her own demise. I began writing a book based on everything I've already written here, with much more detail and a few insights none of you know about yet. In retrospect, even the routine days were anything but routine. All the nuances of all of the events, people, places, and things accumulate to a substantial fragment of a lifetime of shared experiences. All chronicled for myself and my children, here.

At times, I've wondered if this daily writing might be taking me away from more focused pieces. I routinely condense two sentences capturing an experience that could easily be given as paragraphs. It's a balancing act to try to stay current while delving deeply into more detail occasionally, when it feels warranted. I recently abandoned the morning posts about mindsets and goals, but they may return soon. Nothing is for sure here beyond my determination to continue writing, whether briefly, extensively, or somewhere in between.

Down, I'm getting it down

Sorting it out

So everything I care about

Is held in here

All of those I love, inside 

 

There goes the sun

Back from where it came

The young move to the center

The mom and dad, the frame 

 

Any space, any time

Any moment that we bring to life

Ridiculous, sublime 

 

Oh, all the moments come and go

While the memories ebb and flow

And play again, play again 

 

Oh, there's a hill that we must climb

Climb through all the mist of time

It's all in here what we've been through 

  

The future shines a sunny day

Unpacked memories stored away

All the while, the clock keeps ticking

You and I still playing for time 

  

- Peter Gabriel - Playing for Time