Tag: self-care

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!! Productivity wine

1-15-25

18:11

In Vacaville.  Nurse still at work, me at the table inventorying a long day, and setting aims for eve.  In fact— NO.  One idea today, and I’ve had it before but today it was more aggressive.  Don’t write don’t plan don’t fucking promise.

Just DO.  Bring it to life.  Anything.  Anything you want.  Okay, I asked myself about to turn onto 12 toward Sonoma this morning after sending the Nurse a text at the red light, if you could do anything for work, anything, what would it be.

Obvious, but I’ve always seen it as reach, or fantasy.  Well, no more.  Not saying what it is, not being declarative or promissory, just making tangible.

Portobello our cat goes to the sliding glass door, looks out.  Appears calm but also looks like a prisoner looking out their window wondering, “What’s it like, to just… be out there.”

18:15

Had a late-ish lunch in Napa’s downtown, this Mexican place I’ve never been and I promised myself I wouldn’t lunch out but I couldn’t fend off the famine.  So….

@@@@@@@@

Freewriting here. Not looking for a reaction, or even a comment.  Just setting sail and seeing where waters take me.  Bumpy or not.  Keep writing.  New Story found.  Another glass of the SB, Nurse messages me briefly.  She gets another patient, and this late.  Again, no one I know works like she does.

Looking at the puzzle on the table.  How much of it have done, none.  I didn’t try that hard when we started on xmas night.  Or, even at all.

Everything is a puzzle.  Just figure it out.  Have another glass of wine, relax.  Give your SELF some grace.  Don’t think you have to be working all the fucking time.  And, with the current role, just ride it out like Oz suggested.

Calming… off the phone with Nurse, and more sense in my cells.  Cat wants to go out, and I grant him a walk on the yard.  Open the door he leaves like he’s never experienced grass.  Gives me peace, and needed.  Always nerve-y before the next day in this fucking sales role.  Honestly, and it liberates.  Glass of Pinot after sweet text from Nurse, look at the puzzle again.  That’s the symbol or metaphor, beacon of suggestion for night.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

1-12-25

Nurse and I working at puzzle table, our former dinner table here in VV.  Windy.  Just back from a Costco run.  She working on some emails or messages, and me here building the Happiest Communications idea.  Not yet a project.

Just had a site produced, something quick.. I’m actually shocked how nice it looks.  A couple adjustments obviously, but I think this is the first step. 

Next, networking.  Start communicating as the brand….  Not writing too much here.  Only in journal.  Prompt for the day asks who or what I serve.  I said, this year, ME.

I deserve this idea, and this new shift in 2025.  Writing out tomorrow, starting early.  Up at 04:30 and at the desk.  Then a quick workout, maybe 30-45 minutes.

Nurse and I visiting a friend today at a Suisun Valley winery.  Charging camera, and ready for a much content as I can gather.  Doesn’t matter what.  One thought was the grill and headlights of that old truck they have out front.

I credit this Nurse with this attitude.  Like her, and as she just said in a conversation we had a couple minutes ago, “…and I still handled my shit.” 

Yes she does.  Like NO.ONE.I.KNOW.

Opening journal, more notes.  About to pull trigger and capture domain.  Do I do it?  Do I trust myself to fucking follow through with this?  Making this week a project, one of discipline and a model for how the rest of this life is to be lived.  For the kids, me and the Nurse.

Notes now in at least five places.  Almost impossible to contain the energy and brainstorming jam session I’m having with only words, listening to wind, thinking of yesterday with the Nurse climbing that mountain such an obvious symbol and cosmic suggestion.

13:57….  Looking at the week, what’s calendared, what’s not, what might be.  One day at a time.  Not driving myself crazy with anything.  Everything in its turn.

Wind picks up again.  Deciding not to buy the site that was made for me, not yet.  Keep everything on this blog.  Have it drive and fly from here.

Pausing for a second.  In this HAPPIEST COMMS verve and nerve.  Take your time.  Week is just starting there’s no rush.— You know what, never mind on the agency idea.  Holding for now.  Keep writing, keep living, experiencing I tell myself.  Simply, don’t compile and complicate.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!!

1-11-25

Finally hiked Hood Mountain with the Nurse.  Lunch at Kenwood Market, come back to loft and dress and freshen for tasting at Stonestreet with my old friend Larissa.  Then back here for time down and laundry, conversation.  Nurse now naps, zapped from our 7-8 mile hike to summit.  She asks me what I’m going to do after telling me she wants to rest her eyes till 19:30.  I tell her I’m not sure, she asks if I’m going to write and like that…

Reminded.

Not that I’m a writer, but that need be the only onus.  What I’m to do, what’s on me.  In the nook, sitting in a seat where I’ve never written.  Glass of SB and I’m like Kerouac, feeling like I did earlier walking in the woods with my beloved Nurse.  The streams, and then outright waterfalls.

Dinner at 20:30.  Late dinner, we’re calling it our Parisian date.  My gratitude and peace today is something I’ve never known, and still feel quite a bit of disbelief.  And why.  I don’t know, but then do… used to think this elevated and bright enveloping happiness was meant for others.

But here I am… with this Nurse.  Now my fiancee.  And that’s another thing I’m having trouble believing.  Have to detach from that past.  Not just let it go, I tell myself, but throw it the fuck away.

10:03….  The downed trees, that water from the mountains earlier.  All flying by so fast.  Larissa arranging a special menu for us this afternoon for our tasting, reading “Congratulations Nurse and Professor Mikey…” Again, how.  This is my life.  I am HAPPY.

Imagine that.

The aim of my entires and essays has to be this.  To write about happiness and peace, and not just wish it for others, but show them maybe how to arrive at such.  And through writing. 

And then, another idea.  Trying to slow myself and my thinking, it’s not happening.  The Nurse and I, our story, what this other idea is but figuring out how to write it and wha exactly to do with it.  Not to trivialize, or capitalize but again to share this happiness.  Make it something available.

Write a map to it or something, I don’t know. 

Her smile today, when tasting and at the summit, just now on the 3rd floor of our condo, driving back from the winery.  And always.  Our first date…. “Why do you have to be attached at the hip?” Some unable rump-fed plague sore once said.

Honestly, no need explaining.  The bitter sewers won’t grasp.  So I laugh, celebrate more, enjoy this happiness and love and sky, and move more into our story.

19:16….  Nurse wanted some rest till :30, can’t remember if I wrote that above and much so from the blindness this joy magnetizes.  I’m amplifying and turning up this celebratory and freeing wattage.  Why not.  Once you live, so… and that’s been a reminder with recent events.

I am healthy, thank the STORY, and was able to climb that mountain with my Goddess….  Healthy, and so grateful.  Metaphor obvious but not in any way a metaphor.  Writing everything, I honestly cannot with this Nurse – she gently reminding me what to do—  Be at these keys.  And, STAY.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. just writing LOVE!!!!! Productivity

Maybe I should take the day off, and not tell them.  Yes… more or less what I’m doing.  Decided.

Messages over Teams come in, not in mood to communicate.  What can I do…

Feeling a little more aloft and alive.  Haircut, then drive to client’s site.  See if they’re there, and will just sign.  All I need is this one sig and I’m in a better place.  Thinking of how to migrate this to something else.  Like a PR or Marketing shop.

I need to be tougher on SELF, and not give in to this self-pity and low estimation beat.  Not helping.  Do something for SELF—  Here I go…….

—>

12:50

No haircut, and nothing of any notable event so far.  Henry will be dropped off soon.

Started laundry, one goal for day.  Had idea earlier, nothing written yet.  Noticing my mind changing, at least today, and not liking the new shapes, this slow and drudgery-drawn metamorphosis.

Switch flipped.  New action…. No caffeine, rather sparkling water.

Upstairs in loft now working with little Henrito home.  Forcing myself into a singular address, one project, and not budging till it’s wildly lucrative.  Not specifying, but can’t understand why I haven’t done this before.  One conversation, one verbal contract.  That’s almost immediate revenue.

Then another….

One more.

And just like that, three for the day.  My own agency—  WHOOPS.  Almost said too much, but it’ll be known before too long.

Get rid of all debt, new car, the Nurse’s and my new house.  We may do a little hunting this weekend, after our hike tomorrow up ….. Mountain.

Heard that song Shiny Happy People, by R.E.M., earlier.  When was the last time I heard that?

What lit this new idea’s wick.

Call with Nurse, she on her way and my creative fire is selectively more precise and decided.  More molding of wheels and their revolutions, and philosophy sight.  Each turn, or revolution, its own REVOLUTION.

A HAPPINESS REVOLUTION.

Moving forward, the only language I will let myself speak.  No more of this downtrodden drowsy talk and thought, mood.  Done.

Holy shit… just looked up the domain, and it’s free.  How the fuck is that possible?  I think this is the idea, I really do.  Oh my …. Shit.  This has to be it.

HAPPINESS revolution, movement, dance, sight, writing, defining, moving differently and deciding in happiness wha the next scene speaks.  Laundry bell goes off on 3rd floor.  Fuck I don’t want to leave the table.  Then don’t, I tell myself.  Think of other agency names, but that first one I think is the winner, for obvious reasons.  None of which I’ll go into now because some barely-competent vulture for some reason keep in their ailed penchant for these pages.

And, I want to just wait. No quick moments.  Gotten me into trouble too many times in the past.  Especially with work, some job selection that I fucking had to make.  Budget set, move these here…. Then a little more over………. HERE.

Perfect.  What a turn the day decided to make for the writer.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!! wine

Wine and Lit, Wine and Lit, this vinoLit Split…

10:36

The wine book, the wine story, the wine dreams and driving, drives from Vacaville to Rohnert Park office.  Vineyard after vineyard, and plans to taste here and there with the Nurse.

One pic at a time I thought on the drive this morning.  Today is bringing me back to when I first started blogging about wine, humorously enough at the suggestion of a total pompous blob of a human.  But still, grateful.

Wine and what it does to a conversation, what it did to me last night and the night before tasting however many Pinots with the Nurse.  Each its own feel and music, BEAT.

In office but not.  I can only see the vine3yard, making wine. Texting my buddy Chris, owner of Caddis Wines on the drive over, earlier, asking if he’ll send me pics from the crush pad and fermentation, barrels, whatever.  Each more than a thousand words.  And all I need to do in order to bring to life what I was thinking about this morning – one picture at a time.

That’s it.

This one, of the vineyard.  Alexander Valley I think, years ago but I feel like I’m still there.  Like I’ve never left.

Going to make this pay, and have it be the ONLY work for this writer, blogger, wanna-be photog.  Text the Nurse again about the other night, my love and gratitude and how is it that I have someone like her in my life.  As a fiancé, no less.  HOW.

The sun this morning over the vineyard was energetic and inconsistent.  Like a boozy fistfight.  Dactylic and dimensional.  I have no apologies anymore, or qualification about getting back to wine, full-time.  No CV’s or letters emailed or sent over winejobs.  None of that.  Just me, these pages.  Tasting notes and wild descriptions like “radiant and loudly herbal raspberry roars”.  Something I scribbled in the Roth tasting room years ago.

Wine is music and mood. Keeping my pen moving to wine ghosts, the Viognier in the St. Francis tasting room in 2009.  Can’t remember the vintage, but it was just sweet enough, and tropical taking me far away from where I was on Highway 12.  The literature doubled and tripled and sooner than I know I was writing about wine every day.  Writing about sipping even when I wasn’t.  Actually, especially when I wasn’t.

Wine, fiction, but not at all.  There is another wine, the next, no idea what it is but there are more pages.  More to this Story.  All in balance.  No excess.  There’s no need as a writer to rush.  Tasted slow last night while the Nurse had dinner with her friends.  Slow scribbles, meditations.

Reminding me of life’s brevity.  But more a love letter, the Pinot flight last night.  Grateful I’m here, and had the vineyard realizations and instruction from the drive this morning.  Mad one, me, in this radicalized vino peripatetic read.

Honestly forgot I was at work, that I have this telecom job—

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

1-6-24

Feel like I’m not moving quick enough, or I need another system, some new BEAT, or something.

15:34 in Vacaville home office, have to log two new opps from walking in Novato earlier in the day with Shay.  Constructing new timelines, ones with drop-dead-ass dates.  Making them more real, or of a beaming and more punctuated liveliness, vivacity, BEAT..

The BEAT of things, that’s what to me now speaks.  Espresso later than I usually have but it’s needed.  Not sure when Nurse comes home so I keep moving.

New routine stapled.  Not sure when Nurse will be home, neither is she.  Driving to store shortly.  Not advertising or even writing what I will do anymore, best I can.  Only typing in reaction.

Time to figure this out, all of it.  The Story itself, I mean.

My life.  What I’m doing, where I’m going, why I let certain pulses even be pulses.  Learning from the Room, from SELF and what I see my patterns to be.

15:52…..  Nerves aflare.  Not surw what caused it but then I am, so ignoring.  Those energies, their sloppy missives and compilations of blather, just that.  So, onward…. Then I see something else, hear a plane fly over the house and think of Dad.  His career, what he did.  How lucky I am to have such a capable and lucid and present father.  Hard to believe how lucky I am, to be truthful.  Sure that may bother some…

Journals touched today, all of them.  I’ve been scattered I admire and notice and just now what this writer hopes to heal and hone in on some hue of homeostatic Road.  Keep writing I tell myself.  Don’t go to the store yet.  Not yet.

You need an idea – THAT idea, the one that changes the blog and your career, how you think, the worries and money matters.  Find one thing… not logging here obviously but in the little journal I bought in Larkspur that one day canvassing on Magnolia, right before I had lunch. I remember scribbling in it at the table, having that SB and chicken salad, listening to people talking imagining the Nurse and I in Europe, wherever.

Trips planned obviously, another today.  The year fills up, many squares on the calendar, with my bride-to-be.  We keep smiling at each other, joking, last night texting into hours that absolutely interfered with sleep.  No regrets from either of us.

Today visiting her at the hospital on the way home and both of us smiling and more expected and somewhat cheesy couples humor. Referencing our first date twice, the Nurse actually, and me telling her how hard all this is to believe.

Maybe this is my writing BEAT.  Relationships, what the Nurse and I have.  Being fucking happy—  I know, weird.  Especially to some people who find misery and bitterness, anger and resentment to be the tastiest heroin.  Sick, but I think I get it now.. what’s in their tiny little gnat brain.

Getting up, to store.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. LOVE!!!!!

1-5-25

09:49

Vacaville.

Nurse and I wake before kids, I get coffees and Nurse starts making breakfast for kids, her always-demanded and wanted bacon and eggs.  Today toast to side.

As soon as the kids are seated in the dining room and Nurse comes back into kitchen to sit with me at square table with the puzzle still on it from xmas, she’s called in.

What kind of case, I ask her walking up the stairs with her to get ready.  She explains once in our room, “A sedation case.” I ask what that means, even though I have some idea, and she explains and I learn that what I thought it was, far more complicated.

I admire her, like I’ve always written.  What she does, the hours and terminology, can’t believe I know her and we’re together, what we’re building.  The gratitude again squeezes me like an actual bear’s Grizzly hugging.

Set timer for 26 mins.  Assessment so far of self in terms of discipline and productivity in ’25, not that optimal.  Why I forced self to sit, appreciate the day with the kids and Nurse here at our VV home, in writing.

Everything written.  Everything… this latte, the puzzle, Peet’s on whatever street that is with the large group there as always talking about whatever they do.  Dozens of exchanges happening at once like some expansive orchestra or chorus.

Full from breakfast.  Can’t remember the last time that happened.  Couldn’t resist.  Eggs, bacon, blueberries, toast, espresso of the latte.  Everything perfect.

The day, beautiful.  Not sure how to put into words what I’m feeling.  Work tomorrow but not thinking about it now.  Not stressing.  The pressure of sales and quota and numbers and that silly ‘comp’ document aren’t anywhere in my thinking, at least not to any meaningful altitude.

Emma asks me for more bacon, then Henry.  I tell them they’ve had enough then they ask for blueberries.  I say sure, “Have at it small fries.” Then they’re distracted by the puzzle.  Watching them and their attention and how fragile it is has to be one of the more fascinating consistencies of observation in my story.

“Dad, you forgot the blueberries!” Emma cites.  I get up and get a small bowl, Henry laughs like a hyena at who knows what.  Then I find myself laughing, and not sure why.  We form our own band.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

1-3-25

Losing track of or forgetting about Roads, or aims.  Kids here and hard to focus, be anything but distracted—  Wait, why am I working in the nook, why am I not in the office.

In the office, or as I now see it ‘the focus room’.  Opportunity, -ies.  That’s the mood and attitude today.  Felt myself falling into a self-doubt slouch a bit ago but talked SELF out of it.  And here I am, ready for day.

My business, #TELECOMMADIGAN.  That is it, that is the shop that I keep talking about and wishing for, or saying I want.

Inventory set, shooting for a couple verticals today.  Won’t state them here but I know what they are.

Kids upstairs having breakfast with Nurse, iced coffee for the writer today.  Rain, unexpected, and a lot of it.  Meditative.  

Shot of espresso, looking at books for 2025… one of them, CALM.  Not stressing over anything, certainly not some tides and storms that have nothing better to do than accost.

09:19, first opp created.  Marin County law firm.  Building this TELECOMMADIGAN idea, one Salesforce and SalesLoft entry at a time.

Notepad started.  Espresso from the Nespresso box I bought the other day.  Much better than what I usually get for the loft.  09:48

Looking for another opp…. This one a construction or design build company here in Sonoma County.  My momentum is changing, aggrandizing unexpectedly.  Maybe it’s the espresso turning me into more of this rewritten me.

Funnel, put more in it.  Make it a project.  #18 on ’25 list.

Henry runs down from third floor, easy to hear that little bull, asks me if he can keep his jammies on I say why not all is placid in the loft and this floor and 3rd.  The gratitude whirl is its own siren this Friday.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

2025

January 2nd

Have to work quick, there are no two ways or any number of ways about it.  Launching into Field soon.  Everything starts from now, building with the Nurse.  Engaged, I can’t believe it.  This woman who is completely unlike ANY I’ve known, is going to be my wife.

Not sure what else to say, how I perceive this.  Focusing on work other wise I’ll find myself submerged in meditation and replay of NYE, when I asked.

Marketing #TELECOMMADIGAN, without saying it, or mentioning it.  Making it about ME.  Conversations, that’s all I’m after.  Write the sales story, or rewrite it. Make fun of it, learn from it, be obsessed.  New translation, and no negatives, anywhere.

Keep writing, even if it doesn’t make sense.  All sales but not.  Satire… knocking doors, saying hi, looking forward to lunch already ‘cause I’m starving.  But practicing more fasts.  Discipline, like JO says – “How do you want to live your life?”

Writing for my Mental EVERYTHING – Health and Composition, Beat and music, my inner-dialogue with this 2025 Mike Madigan, this year’s book, journal, book from a journal, or journal from an unwritten book and gift from the Universe.

Writing it into existence.  Day’s page in EVERYDAY already scribbled, if this were a movie, my life.  What would the audience think, or what would I want a viewer to feel when it’s over.

Text from the Nurse, our first day away from each other after getting engaged…. It feels different, was harder leaving her, kissing her and driving away.  Ugh.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!! Productivity

Here we are.  The Eve.  Nurse and I get coffee I update funnel and set two appointments with

another AE to hit the Field on Thursday and Monday of next week.

One new opportunity in funnel, then another.  My energy this morning is unusual.  Add a couple Quests or Realizations, as I’m calling them now, to list.  Think I’m at 14, maybe.

09:29…..  So many ideas that I’m not writing down, or adding to the ’25 list.  Just going to enact, actualize.  One of them, the #TELECOMMADIGAN writings and map, fixing certain parts of my perspective concerning work.  

Making it more about me, my aims and envisages.  Action, new BEAT.

Heading to Walnut Creek later for lunch with the Nurse’s daughters.  Excited to get out, be in that town where I haven’t stepped in….  Yes making it about me, but more so what the Nurse and I build.

Funding more HAPPINESS and peace, for me.  Huh, imagine that.  My peace, inward and other, self-preservation.  Investing entirely in my self-care and MENTAL HEALTH.  This new year, the intentions are singularized and consolidated for such effect.