24 November, 2005
i can see all obstacles in my way

i told myself that i would wake up in a better mood, this morning, when i shut off the lights after my long trip back home. nothing like the power of positive thinking for the pseudo-Zen.

my wake-up call derailed that train. five hours after burying my head in the pillows, and cocooning in the flannel sheets, the phone rang. the brother-in-law that i've never met. i let the answering machine take it, since i had no intention to tip-toe my bare ass to the receiver. anyway, the last time he called, it was to ask for money. right after he got his share of their inheritance. for a couple of grand. a couple of weeks later, Yoko asked me for some cash for his Christmas present. i have issues on the subject.

i was already cold to the core. when i strolled outside last night on my lunch break, i was tattooed by stinging little pin-pricks of wind-driven snow, swirling around the parking lot lights... not unlike the state of my mind in weeks past. adding to the swirlyness was the phone call i got minutes earlier... my estranged asking me if i was going to come down for Thanksgiving dinner... and, oh, "how much money will it take to get my car fixed?" Hint. Hint. i hadn't warmed up since.

shit.

there goes my Zen-like state.

i knew that the holidays were going to be tough. flying solo for the first time in thousands of days. cold feet. echoes in the livingroom. companionship coming from the radio. the usual whining.

but, i'll go see how moms is doing, after a while, back at the house where we used to be all together... TV trays in our laps, mountains of food simmering on range and woodstove. i'll think about that when i take a walk up on the mountain... first, negotiating the few stragglers on the road in their FordFocuses and LowRiders painted pearl-white with purple airbrush accents, purple crosses on either side of the wing, GetR'Done stuck to the goddamned window. wearing blaze orange so i don't get plugged by poachers. up there, i can see clearly. thank you JohnnyNash.
i'll recall the things that make me thankful to have even the proclivity to bitch. the breath in my lungs. the ache in my hill-climbing muscles. the senses to take in the recession of the horizon into the unseen ocean. a place to stand on. people who touch me to the very center, every day. and the mind to make something out of nothing.

there might be some Zen recollections to be had, up there.

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