Six, or so, months ago my brother said to me… I’m gonna run a 1/2 marathon to benefit the leukemia/lymphoma society. Under most circumstances with many people (especially in his particular place in life -ie haven’t run since high school) I may have done a double take and said something to the affect of “are-you-fucking-serious??? uuuummmm… you do realize that involves running right?? you know… that exercise thing where you pound yourself against the pavement at multiple times the force of gravity until your joints scream at you that they are vacating the premises and you are an asshole…. that running right???”
But because it was my brother, and because he is the man he is, with his own particular view on the the world and the way things should be handled to get past hurdles, I looked at him, and while I admit I thought those things, said… that’s pretty rad, do you want to go to the gym with me to ease yourself into a routine until your body is used to exercising again? At first he was reluctant and I was a bit pushy. But a couple miles and some serious ankle and knee pain convinced him I may have know just a little bit. I will be the first person to tell you I struggle with the exercise gremlins, but I go. Not because I want to be in shape but because I need to go… my sanity depends on it. And I think my brother has discovered the same. It helps. But none of this matters right now, the point is, he is going, and working and fighting the pain (which he discovered was a reality, right away – think searing burning swelling ankle and knee pain) for something he committed to. My bro is a fukin rock star. He has been my hero for a long time for many reasons. I think I’ve said before that we have come full circle and went from not just disliking each other but flat out hostility, to being close enough to be real. That is rare in this world of twitter-tweeting, social networked bullshit where actual conversations cause people to become physically ill. But we can. It is not always easy, in fact when you have to be real and throw down that conversation that you know is going to hurt but no one else can say it, you do and it sucks, but you do.
So on Sunday my brother will fight through the pain. He will think about a child and our Pepere and Brother in law. He will gather all the strength he has push through the physical pain and overcome a physical challenge to match some of the many mental challenges he’s overcome in his life. I can’t be there in person, he wouldn’t see me if I was. But when he hits the starting-line at 6am with 40,000 other runners, I will be thinking about him. And even though the day before will have been my birthday and who knows what state my body will be in, I will be awake, sending all the positive healing energy I have to him. I will be thinking about what he’s accomplished and how far he’s come, not just with running but in his life. I will be thinking about how much he does for me and how much he means to me and how incomplete my life would be without him.
… less than three
Rock & Roll Marathon, San Diego, June 5th
I know I have been radio silent… to a degree I’m sorry, but kinda not. I did promise “something nicer next time” and maybe I set myself up for trouble by doing that. I’ve been working on writing new stuff, but have been having a rough go finding words. I will have something to post soon, but have a feeling it won’t be what is expected. I seem to be spending too much time trying to provide something witty or with some underlying nugget of wisdom – trying to fit some mold of what I think others want. I didn’t start out writing for anyone but me. Writing was a catharsis, a means to release my feelings. And unbeknown to me when I started, was an extremely useful therapeutic tool. I miss the freedom I felt when I started writing almost 8 years ago. I miss being fulfilled by even posting something so simple as:
It has been a while since I’ve written anything, but what better to pull me out of my writing slump than food. The tamale lady came to my office today. The beautiful amazing tamale lady. Why is she beautiful and amazing??? She had chili-cheese tamales and she doesn’t use lard. Oh Happy Day!!!!!! I am sitting here at my desk enjoying the bounty of her labor, toasting the beauty that is the Mexican culture and it’s fine cuisine. My mouth is on fire and yet I still smile. oh yes it will be a good day.
The Israelites /2004
That I posted in December ’06.
Or in November ’05 when All I wrote was
I need more cowbell…
It was easy to just be free. Of course I didn’t post status updates of Facebook and there was no Twitter so my writing was it. I will figure out what to do to change whatever it is that I need to, in order to find fulfillment in my writing again. Maybe I have already answered my own questions.
Until then I wanted to share a about a woman who no one really knew about. She was discovered by accident after she died. Who knew what could have been different for her, maybe she would have flourished (though I doubt her work could have been better) or maybe it would have stunted her creativity. I hope she was happy and fulfilled by taking photographs in her day-today life.
I hope today you have a moment for you that leaves you fulfilled. I just did. with love & solidarity ~sars
my fingers are slurring their words. There have been drinks and sleepless nights and friends in need and drives from one end of the state to the other. Nothing matters except the present moment. Live each present moment wisely and earnestly… That has been my motto for the last 6 or more years.
with music in the back ground is often how I get ideas to start what becomes a thoughtful or rantish post…. whatever the case may be. We all have our favorites, don’t lie, I hear the Eric Carmen blaring from the back bedroom. (turn the radio up for that sweet sound…) And you with the hairbrush, you are not ze greatest singer in ze vorld and neither is celine…
The last week U2 has been non stop on the mindpod. (You know where I’m going with this don’t you?) I am not a fan of the whole Pop-Mart era and I have friends who stopped listening after Rattle and Hum, but there was a bit of redemption with Elevation so I continue to listen. But the classics remain my favorites. Thus a song that was written almost 30 years ago for a new wife while on a vacay in the Caribbean that became an anthem for not only the reunification of Ireland (a constant theme) but for the Polish Solidarity movement as well, is coursing through my mind… my veins.
All is quiet on New Year’s Day.
A world in white gets underway.
I want to be with you, be with you night and day.
Nothing changes on New Year’s Day.
On New Year’s Day.
I prefer it to be a love song and thing that the New Year will start with just that… love. The only thing that will make the any other meaning real, is just that… love.
“May I please have the one as shown through the rose colored glasses???”
“Yes the one with all the flowers and shiny happy people.”
“ No really, that’s the one I want.”
“Yes I realize it isn’t realistic, but I want it anyway.”
“Look, if I wanted your opinion, I’d give it to you. Just give me what I wanted and get out of my face!”
Where the hell are my rose colored glasses??? I seem to have misplaced them and I’d really like them back. I miss myself. The self that looks at things in a positive way and likes everyone, in spite of their obvious flaws. I miss the days where I smiled all the time and wasn’t so tired.
My problem is I know the cause, haven’t fixed it and am still sitting here writing about it rather than making the effort to fix it. The arm-pullers are in full force. I am that person that is torn between loyalty to self and misplaced loyalty to others. I stay at the job where I am under paid and under appreciated because of loyalty. I am a loyal friend. I am a loyal co-worker. I am also trusting in things I shouldn’t be trusting of.
I need to get the fuck out. I need to clean my shit off my computer, take my efforts and my talent and give it to someone who deserves it. I need to realize that my friend must come to terms with his own decision and that I can be supportive of him from the outside. In fact, it may be more supportive of me to be on the outside. I need to show these people what they will never see…. That I deserve better than this. That I am not a median income that the chamber of commerce has on a page. I am a hard working, intelligent, talented human being that has to go home at the end of the day feeling some degree of pride in what I did. I should be proud of where I work…. Not so much. I hate the fact that my day’s efforts will result in hundreds of thousands of dollars in profits and I will net $9.
Off with the rose colored glasses, I’m going shopping for some new ones. Maybe a nice shade of green or grey. Something to compliment my eyes.