Tag: Muscle

No specific outcome sought in this morning’s session, just keep going.  Writing, creating from what is… what’s around me.  Starting a new collection of notes, what I’d have on the room of my office outside the condo, notes on a wall to keep me and colleagues creating.  Seeing this blog as part of the wall.  Everything around you is pushing you forward, or trying.

Sparkling water, just what I need but I feel more caffeine ought be summoned, shortly.  Writing till I’m writing to pay my mortgage, feed my children, take the Nurse and I on holiday or to Winters for dinner at Preserve or the other place we went a couple months back.

Pic of Jack and Emma, 7 years ago.  Could write thousands of words about this and how it makes me feel, my age.  But like JO said, aging is something to celebrate… shared some words with him I sued to share with students, “Why grieve what’s absent when you can celebrate what’s present?”

Need my own words heed.  True…

Honed on my character Composition, Mental Health.  Creating and telling stories or accounts from this immediate Room.

09:07, freer in my types this morning.  Why not order more caffeine, a small latte maybe?  Have the fire be more of a fire, a fire atop itself?

I may have solved something, wasn’t going to say what – but, THIS.  I notice I withheld when knowing I’d post to blog.  But why?  What can ANYONE do?  The Nurse and I, like an army, armed and ready to greet negativity and ultra-observant flap-dragons.

That is the problem, holding back.  Like JO said, vulnerability.  There is value in it, immensities of rewards and elevation gain.  New truths in this morning, radiant and fearless harnessing themselves to me.  Splendid and divinely woven expressions of encouragement, from these café walls to the Fairfield streets on the other side of this window.

This new story, gem brilliance punctuated.  Unusual power about me, and after this next latte I will be a monster.  I am unfettered and unobstructed.  I will see the sky I seek, and persist on my Road with gratitude and love, and curiosity.

The day, the truck driving by, the people behind me talking quietly, all of it building, part of this new fearless architecture.  This will be me, forward, endlessly and tirelessly.

No glasses so I have to enlarge the screen.  Unnerved a bit, all the noise.  No headphones and I can’t make the ones the Nurse gave me connect.

Already had a latte, so sparkling water bought here in tall blue bottle.  Starting to settle, 08:14.  Drove Nurse to work, and things planned for day which includes run, 5k minimum.  Need to get back into a routine. Enough of this stalling.  Change my day-to-day, entirely and universally.  Think about the caution I’ve been exercising on this blog, knowing some unsweetened clowns observe and read, or try to.  Then I thought, enough.

ENOUGH, I said to myself last night driving back from our dinner in Sonoma with Mom and Dad and some old family friends the Nurse met for the first time.  Red Grape, one of my favorite Sonoma County eateries.  Will go back with Nurse.

Using all of this morning, all of it.  Have written here only once before, and I feel liveliness reviewing notes from my last JO meeting.  Vulnerability, and me being my own world and caring more for that world, giving it more priority.  Telling stories and sharing all observations and realization while on this Road… discover your fire and purpose, assign it to yourself…

“No need to compare yourself to anyone else, no one else is you.  No one else can BE you.  There will never be another you, and there isn’t now.  You are distinct and powerful, and only now getting started.”

Old affirmation I found in journal.  Changed LinkedIN profile to read Content Creator and Storyteller.  No more fitting and fixing profile description  to hopefully be noticed.  One thing I’m learning in my sessions with JO, be more ME. That easy, that poetic and expected.

Navigating this new sea of self-realization and empowerment, writing the new page of purpose – akin to the variance of wave intensities.  But I continue in my scribbles and types, undaunted.

Older group of citizens to my right, long table as you’d observe and many a Peet’s or Starbucks or other coffee shop mirroring the layout of Windsor’s Noto or other.  Not getting distracted by their political exchanges and gripes and contests.  I find them interesting to a stellar extremity, how they are certain of their words and experiences, how those recalls are the most apt lens for translation.

I envy them, yet fear reaching their stage.

Lessons in everything, poignant balm for this diarist this morning.  May need more caffeine for the day’s 1001 words, and I am committed to touching this count.  See a man walking across the street, bright red shoes, younger than me.  Where is he going, what does he want, what does his week ahead look like.  Asking myself the same, but with circling intensity, in and out.

Refocus on search, what I want… too loud here.  May go back to the villa, write by the pool, or in the Nurse’s office upstairs.  No I tell myself, stay in this room.  Create from where you are Mike, don’t surrender in this sitting.  Text my son Jack, see if I get a response, or if my communication is intercepted by some witless bot, as it often is.

Again, more honesty in these posts.  More freedom, more VULNERABILITY, like JO said or gently mentioned.

(3-17-24)

16:39 talking with the Nurse a bit ago in the backyard, near the pool while she cleaned the filters and replaced the bag on the sweeper, me saying it’s almost pool season.  She agreeing, noting how quick the year passes.  I focus now with this sliver of time, in our room on the couch by our bed, seeing more significance in the change of temp and sunlight duration.

I am surprised, enlivened, propelled and further encouraged.  Only reason to celebrate, see the story for what it is, and that is a blank page or just a room to fill.  Remembering the BED journal prompt from yesterday or the day before ordering a description of “my room”.  What room, I thought.  So I deconstructed and with syllables explored the entirety of the condo.  I’m in the same mood now, the same step and lean with my connection.

Lunch with the Nurse at a new spot, some lovely Mexican spot in Suisun Valley.  Aside from her, I could only focus on the day and how Summer-sclupted everything was, from the bloom in the fields and bud break driving through Napa to get here.  There is a new life about the county and all the valleys to get here, where we earlier for lunch and then delivering some tacos to friends of hers down the Road.

Light music from the bathroom where the Nurse showers, looking out the window behind me, down at the pool.  Everything as it should.  Beatific elements in the immediate scene and contributors – this couch, our bed, the picture of the pool I took.

Looking for properties soon, I tell myself.  Write more about people, the stories, the MSP and the condescension that tumbled from the mouth of some pseudo-sagacious clowns.  No time to make up something, or pursue any new tune.  Decide in the directly present dimension, of course.

Nurse gets out the shower, one of my songs plays, Frank Ocean and Migos.  Spotlight….  So fitting and appropriate, needed.  Encouraging and elevating.  More music in my day, from the pool to this room.  ROOMS—  Where I need be with the paragraphs, will.  This room, where we sleep and get ready in the morning for coffee at Peet’s, the commutes.

Again surprised by what I now wildly and widely realize.  Gratitude stampedes in my needed mentality.  Nothing simple, whether seemingly or actual.