half-pipe dreams

I don't know a lot about skateboarding, but I do know that it intrigues me.  It's an art.  It's rebellious.  It's good friends with rebellious art.  Mix that with some cool words like "ollie" and "fakie" and I want in...or really...I want to be a kid again.

I had a skateboard growing up, but I also had a gravel driveway...not such a great combination.  I know you're never too old to learn new things, but I'm starting to notice a gap between what my spirit wants and what my mind and body are actually willing to sign up for.  Plus my kids tell me that I'm not allowed to use slang.

A few weeks ago, my neighbor (whose garage is full of boards and ramps) posted a story on Facebook about two legendary skaters getting together at a gallery opening honoring the career of one of them.  Thanks to my pal, intrigue, I followed the link and while I watched the video of two people I didn't know talking about their lives in a subculture I've never been part of, I found an enormous amount of inspiration.

As I watched them setting up the gallery exhibit, I couldn't take my eyes off of the photography in the background. That was something I understood.  I fell in love with the work of one of the photographers in particular and I found this video on his website...

Through the Eyes of Brian Gaberman from Michael Baca on Vimeo.

I wanted to jump through my monitor and use that camera, play around in that darkroom, and live on that farm.

I followed a trail of bread crumbs that initially had very little to do with me and I found my heart's desire.

There was a time when seeing what others had would only remind me of what was missing from my life, but I don't feel that way anymore, nor do I really want to be a kid again.  I finally trust that what I have and where I am are enough.  When I stumble on things that light me up, whether on purpose or by accident, I consider them beacons...a place to point my ship...instead of just mere yearnings.

If you want to know where your heart is, look to where your mind goes when it wanders...

Dude.

a comfortable silence

I always forget how good this time of year can be for thinking.  How the cool breezes and the graceful drift of falling leaves can be hypnotic, wrapping you in a warm blanket of your own thoughts.  Shifting into neutral used to frustrate the hell out of me.  I didn't know how to be idle or find comfort in a comfortable silence, but I'm better at it now.  I've learned how to let silence take over without feeling the guilt that it needs to be anything more.

I can't say how I came to this conclusion, whether it was a survival technique or maturity or whatever, but finding peace with my thoughts was more of an aduh moment than an aha moment, like looking frantically for your cell phone while your talking on it.

Be here.  Be present.  Wherever you are, be there.  - Willie Nelson

My word to focus on this year was "here".  So, I just wanted to let you know...if I'm not here, I'm allowing myself to be "here" somewhere...wherever that is.

5 for a dollar

I should be planting things.  Instead I'm dismantling and digging things up before the community garden deadline.  It seems so counterproductive, but all in do time as they say and they are usually right.

It was a really bad growing year.  The Memorial Day frost was a killer...literally.  Then it rained the entire month of June.  I remember sending my kids off with a bucket to play in while I got down on my hands and knees, and tried to dig trenches in the muck.  I failed.  In July, the weeds started taking over and by the middle of August I let them.

It reminds me that you can plan the heck out of something and still come away empty handed.  Expect nothing, appreciate everything.

“I wanted a perfect ending.  Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end.  Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.  Delicious Ambiguity.” - Gilda Radner

In the unexpected I look for the lessons.  Like uncertainty, the lessons are always there.

I started off yesterday morning on my computer looking for photo editing software and after the process of "think this, click that, etc...repeat", I found my way to the Ohio Ecological Food and Farm Association.  I looked at their events calendar and noticed they were holding a sustainable farm tour and workshop at a farm about a half an hour away from me and...

"It's today.  I can't believe it.  It's today!"  Hello serendipity.

It was a great experience.  I walked around with dirt in my shoes and the sun on my face, in full appreciation of both and all of the stuff that goes on in between.  I took good notes.  I left feeling empowered.  I'm really finding the absolute truth in...once you declare a path for yourself the windows of opportunity start opening up...all part of the beautiful unexpected.

I went to the local thrift store the other day and found a small stack of those cardboard masterpieces.  One of them, a vase full of flowers, caught my eye.  "You have some paint by number looking pictures out in the garage.  How much are they?"

"A dollar," the owner said.  "I'm trying to clear some things out of here." 

I thought my vase full of flowers worthy of a dollar, so I got it and brought it back to the register.  "Where are the rest of them?" she asked. "I want you to take the whole stack."

"For a dollar?" 

"Yes!" 

Well, alrighty then and I did.  I don't know what I'm going to do with them yet, but I know they won't go to waste.

It reminds me that you can plan the heck out of something, plan for a certain outcome and then somehow walk away with more than you bargained for.

Delicious ambiguity sure is delicious.