Wake earlier. Run more.

Aims with which I’m starting day, before meeting at 9 here in Rohnert Park.  Never written at this shop before.  No significance to it, just noting.

Also, write more.  Could if I didn’t wake so close to 7.  This exchange has thrown off my clock in a blizzard of forms.  Trying to right self, be more in balance.  Like Dad suggested… write in shorter form.

Fragments.  Notes.  Spun jots.

Move quicker.  Think I’ll go to 24hour Fitness here in RP like I planned to last night, but then reasoned to run from Mountain Hawk base, and didn’t do that even.

More discipline.

More strength.

More fearlessness.

More forgiveness of SELF.

More love, sight, knowledge, humility, ZEN, acknowledgment of the Now… why you’re there and what you can do with it.  With yourself in IT.

Smile.

Love the opposition, and rather than see it as opposition, love its invitation.

Lastly…. HONESTY.  And no reluctance in telling truth.  Even if it slightly or significantly harms you.  There will be elevation and a distinct climb rhythm that follows.

2/12/20

Knowing Now, FREED

Starbucks down the Road from Sonic’s HQ.  I feel more Zen in all molecules and movements than I have in some time.  From being honest with Self.  You have to be, finally… about certain things.  If you deny, or interpret it conveniently, then only more trouble compiles.  I’m not going into specifics, and I don’t have to…. The specifics aren’t the intention of such a note… it’s the pattern, the habit, and practice.  Diving into Zen practice, Zen ideology, and habit, mind, more than just some trendy mention of mindfulness, more than even me being here physically acknowledging certain realities, and behaviors.  Knowing your Now entails so much beyond the Now itself… but what brought you here, to where you are, where you’ve been… why you’re doing what you’re doing, why you’ve done certain things and traveled in particular directions.

This morning, waking around 5:30 and heading here, to this same Starbucks where I’m not sitting and working and thinking about the past couple days….  Here I am, like this, in this sense and mind.  A mind and way I love, where the Zen envelops me and teaches me about the directness of life, directions in one’s story…. There are choices, then there are circumstance possible given from some other being or force, or collective individualized intent.

Not sure what I’m writing, or even why I’m writing, but I know there’s a trajectory I want to avoid.  For all sakes, for all pages.  So, honesty.  This Monday has tested me in certain arenas, then encouraged me in others.  Realizing that there need be a shift with the ship.  One step, I guess…. Sales Meeting in 1 hour, 11 min.  Then class later.  Then home.

One jolt in my world, anxiety… separation anxiety from my kids.  Writing it makes me tear, but I know fortitude is the only electable echo and forward.  Eating carrots with ranch, part of some lunch box that came with a sandwich, and a sparkling water.  Collect, I tell myself.  Wait for more connectedness from the day.. more instruction.  Think about your kids… how you want them to see you, study your actions.  Be deserving of study.

My age, and having these realizations.  What does that mean.  Where am I going.  What more can I do.  Well, I finally know.  So no attaching self to past.  No more in-place holes or ruts, stalls or cells.  I’m here, I’m doing it… re-writing the character.  Writing the entire story.  Me, where I am and what I’m doing… knowing my Now and its entire composition.  Sonic provides more composition, more than a platform but specific composition of a bridge to get me from one reality to another.   What I put into circulation, how I treat my bones, veins, brain.  Staying on the page, the first motion to line dividing sky and sea.  Music.. all of it.  I’ll make it all music, musical, a healing composition.  No matter what happens next.  Unafraid, eager, writing more, clear images and steps… a renewed beat and beauty in my promised truth-speak.

2/3/20

more wine thoughts from morning, before winery…

img_9404Little time left.  Just a little before heading to winery.  Want a quick vineyard walk, around the SB lot.  Just to center self and start day how I need.  Thinking of my shop… checking bank balance…. perfect.  In better shape than I forecasted.  09:04.  Will get up at :10.  Today I’m going to have one aim— SELL.  Every wine I can.  Four bottles left of the Grenache, sell it.  Two of that big Napa Cab, sell…. I feel something about today, and more than just selling wine, but building my story, getting closer to the Road, with these wild types, crazy notebooks I’ve accused over the years. Oh… if only I could just stay here and write all day, but no you don’t want that Mikey, you definitely don’t want that.  You need the sounds of the winery, the annoying descriptions from people, how they want to seem so knowledgeable like that guy who brought his friend in the other day and was telling him that sediment you see in the glass is tannin collection.  I just listened, was entertained, and warmed in the heart knowing that I know not much more than he does.  One should not shoo for mastery with wine.  That’s not why I’m going for the sommelier cert’, if I even go for it.  Still not sold on that effort.  When would I study, with all my projects, all that I want to do.  I could just stay a ‘Mock Somm’, as I’ve posted before.

Need to see my vines, my winery.  So I get up from this wall seat, ready self for conversations on wine, hosting people and listening to their descriptions and opinions, their wine lives.  Watch me.

A Walk, Fog, Zen.

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Needing a walk, as always.  But, needing the fog more than anything.  Even more than my beloved vines.  Wanted to walk in it, be in it, breathe in it before the sun dare burn it ‘way.  So, there in Chalk Hill’s theatrical, phantasmagoric stage, I just walked.  Enriched, in love.