Unhinged

I have been anticipating the ‘next big thing’ in life to pop up out of nowhere and test my mettle. To knock me out of my comfort zone, forcing me to abandon my routines, my meditations, my walks, exercise, sense of order… my home. All while replacing and displacing them with despair, distain and a disbelief that, no matter what measures one might take to coordinate staying on a stable course, the impulse of another may overtake reason. Things just veered so off course, relentlessly and dramatically, that a return to the path became doomed by the destruction of the path itself.

More to come...

My 3rd Quadrant

A friend recently sent me a link to this YouTube post, adding, "I thought this one would ‘resonate’ with you.” I considered it a compliment (while questioning the subtext of his use of single quotes). Only a few hours earlier that very same morning, in advance of receiving his share, I had been mentally massaging a lingering post idea about diving into what I do and don’t share, about authenticity, and about the fine line between connecting through transparency and driving someone away through TMI. 

What I watched felt like a nudge from the universe to follow through on that writing impulse.

Highlights: Enjoying a rainy day. Writing from within a warm, dry coffee shop. Meeting Brett, a friend of Jen and Vanessa’s, who is facing an imminent demise from Pancreatic cancer. That was sobering. What I routinely try to embrace as eventual is absent the fixed, finite amount of time he’s facing. I don’t know what I’d do with my time were that presented as my circumstance, I should be doing whatever that might be, every day, anyway. Our day ended with dinner at Aqui (I gorged myself on chips) and the "Depeche Mode" laser show at DeAnza with Jess and Bev. It was a vastly different experience from the others I’ve been to, and it made for a pleasant outing. I’ll likely return for Metallica.

A sleepless night led to a 3 am decision not to try to be at the Zen Center before 7. It all worked out. I made it in time to join the latter half of the morning sit — the standing part. The grocery cont­ribution was well received. It was just Michael, Pamela and Michael (Tishin). "A World Appears" appeared (had been left) on the resident kitchen table. It sparked an intriguing conversation. Mom's second treatment went well. I think next week we have a check-in with her head doctor. We have questions. I don't know that they will have answers, though. Jen and I hung out at Starbucks sharing a decaf after walking to get the car, and talked again about her working or not for now. For now, I prefer she not. For now, we are ok. Tommy's still maintaining a distance and avoiding us both. It's a challenge to break habitual behaviors, and I have to remember this is his decision, the natural consequence of being oppositional, having expectations of entitlement, and bringing an argumentative offensive position to every little thing.

I’ve written before about seasonal changes, something I appreciate, and it's starting again—the early sunrise and later sunsets. I didn’t set my beloved "sunrise" alarm clock that I recently bought after my previous one pretended to be dead until I replaced it. When I did, it came back to life just long enough to be packed away as a backup. I actually like the new one more now. But for the next few months, it won't matter much because the sunlight itself—not a Temu knockoff—is doing what I need: waking me gently and naturally, and fairly early too. Just this morning, as I woke up to start another day, I looked out our window at the orange glow of sunlight among the scattered clouds in the sky and remembered my mantra: “I get to be here. I get to have this experience.” It's easier said than done, given that every day brings challenges, disappointment, a sense of loss, self-doubt, and uncertainty. But I still try my best to remember that my time here is limited. During that time, all the history and all the unknown outcomes are just thoughts—vivid, overwhelming, distorted reflections, exaggerated and amplified projections of what-ifs. When I truly pause and consider how much of my day is spent outside the present moment —the place, the person, the experience —it's absurd—probably 10%, maybe 15%, on a good day, at best. Even hiking in a beautiful vista often becomes secondary to capturing an image that can never fully convey its impact. It's a constant effort not to be elsewhere but fully here. For example, I still miss our dog, Scottie, and regret not being more aware of how limited our time was. Yet, I fail to keep that awareness when helping my mom with her care needs, distracted by potential traffic or annoyed by the repetition of stories I’ll someday regret not appreciating. I’ve had to accept a cold distance from Tommy as a necessary boundary due to past abuse, but I understand the responsibility I have—to both myself and him—to let him learn from the consequences of his choices. All of this feels essential, important, and worth every bit of effort to stay mindful and aware. Though I realize this might be boring and annoying to read about for so long. :-)

Highlights: Howes your coffee with Jen joining at the end. Gratifying progress in writing. Patio HomePod installation. A great call connecting with Matt C. 

Insights: Writing this story is forcing a level of awareness I did not anticipate. As I work to represent each with fairness and objectivity, I see through their eyes how limited my own views, any one person's sole perspective, can be.

Highlights: Mom's routine blood work remains in the usual ranges, chemo starts Thursday. My focus on the book brought a breakthrough I needed — some great drama and unrecognized connections came to light. Insights: I found out a few things today that have been challenging to accept and put into context. I need to look at the bigger picture around this, as it necessitated a very difficult step: detachment from something I have no control over. It's heartbreaking to do so yet will be heartbreaking to not.

For a wide range of reasons, I felt apathetic and down all day yesterday. Today was better, yet there remains a tone of "meh" in my outlook. I am annoyed by flies in the backyard and have raked up 1/4 of the bark and needles (a year-plus worth) in the hope it may help. I also set out a couple of D.I.Y. traps that will hopefully reduce the issue. A visit with my mom today was good. Although her demeanor seemed subdued, she was in good spirits. The pain appears to be working with the meds, with her pain down from a 10 to a 2. Tomorrow, we get the routine blood work done. I know a good part of my mood is the distance and detachment from Tommy. It's not my nature, it's simply self-protection at this stage. As I work on the book and recognize all the factors that went into this, I see it explains the root issues, but not the conscious choice to hold them in spite of ample evidence to the contrary. I have one last theory about the mood-THC. I had a hit a few days ago and had stopped for some time prior. One of the reasons had been this pattern-a "come down" of sorts long after the indulgence. I think that too could be a factor. Call it a nostalgic backslide. I'm getting too old for this shit.

Happy Easter! (...What?… too soon?)

Jen wanted to cheat tonight, but I said no. And by cheat, I mean on our night following the routines we committed to for the week. It's day 5. And I am finding it effective. It's working. I am getting things prioritized and done. Writing. Calls. Tasks. Balance. Presence. Like being back at the creek behind my child­hood home, in which I caught tadpoles. 50 years ago. I have an increasing attachment to all the places from all these years living here. Allover "here". I was thinking about Tommy tonight and how ridiculous it is that I would be the "bad guy". In the arena of actions in opposition to desires, I see how Tommy and I seem to be locked in mindsets in which our reactions run ahead of reason, our wishes for harmony are overridden (at least for me) by incredulity. By frustration that the other fails to see and consider our world views, no matter how reasonable or realistic we believe them to be. Perhaps this is the timeless case of a generational divide between a father and a son. Perhaps at an extreme end of the more contentious nature. Is it genuinely possible that his expectations are believed to be reasonable to him? Or, as it feels at times, is his development arrested at a place where the need for safety and survival results in deflection of responsibility and accountability, with manipulation being an immediate response?

The "SAD" alarm is back to the reddish-orange hue. It makes for a pleasant awakening every morning. Alarm clocks in my youth were so "jarring", from striking bells like an old firehouse's wall alarm to the sharp, piercing shrill of an electronic buzzer. Now it's an artificial sunrise with artificial birds chirping. Howes your coffee with Nark was good. I talked up the book and realized the more I do, the more committed I become to its completion, much like I have done in prior instances, in which setting myself up for the humiliation of failure inspires a focused effort to achieve success. GNO at the Brit was cut short when Jess had to bail. They got some concerning news about one of their dogs, Richie, a genetic connection to a prior dog, "Guinness", that they lost many years ago. Bev's having a hard time with it. I can relate to the situation based on my own experiences. (And you don't know if I mean the dog or the wife!) The remaining three of us hung out at Starbucks nearby and talked tech, movies, dogs, and wives. Being old is kinda cool. I think I'd like to stay here for a while longer.

🎵 I'm just waiting on a friend…🎵 

The hike with Matt at Almaden Quicksilver Park was wonderful. 3+ hours going up and down hills for close to 6 miles. It was misty, cool, windy, and we got to visit several of the historical landmarks. The views were breathtaking. In the afternoon, I managed to work out an automation that may allow me to more easily post from my remarkable 2. Its a part of an effort to reduce time spent each night doing so. Journal entries like this will be separated from photos, but I still plan to upload an image a day. This is always a moving target. In the evening, I went to Starbucks with JS for a change of scenery and made good progress on the next chapter.

My sleep was problematic. Tommy's 1AM coming and goings, without showing any consideration of how doors closing and opening might awaken us, stands in stark contrast to the way I myself manage my own movement around the house. Part of me has a desire to go low, taking the "fuck me? well, fuck you" approach and abandoning consideration. Yet to what end? It models the wrong behavior, and sends the wrong message. Jennifer has reached that point with him where she has had it and harbors a great deal of disdain for his lies, deflection and entitlement to the point of aggressive actions meant to hold a line. I vasillate between grief and disgust with his lack of gratitude and consideration.

Anticipation: Hiking Quicksilver with Matt & Jen. Continuing writing chapter three while hopefully being able to maintain the pace and cadence, holding the reader's attention and interest as I work to introduce more of the key characters.