Forgetting “is every bit the mental skill as remembering.”
I’ve yet to have mastered the technique but I’d like to still. And to teach it as well.

Oh the irony of my thoughts, I’m such an idiot! Here I am posting about forgetting so what do I do? I look at my other posts of the same year… and add more to my journal.

risks vs rewards isn’t it. So what does one do when it’s all just risks. Rewards are all gone? The canteen’s empty.

About the only thing that works is my memory of who I used to be not long ago. I was never exactly fine crystal but rather a canteen. May not have been as pretty but I held a fair amount and didn’t leak. Probably looked a little out of place in certain locations but always thought I fit in where I thought I should be. On a fireplace mantle somewhere ready to go out in the woods.

Maybe I leaked, maybe what was in me simply evaporated over time. I may never know, but I know there’s very little left in me right now. Just a nearly empty old container in search of a plug and a refill laying on the side of some country dirt road.

When will the last drop be gone? Most likely the last tear I guess.

This will be written, edited, and added to over many days I hope as it’s that spark I’ve been searching for too damn long.

Does drive inspire? Or does inspiration drive?

My wife is watching a Nat Geo series called “Edge of the Unknown”. It’s a Red Bull program documenting people that put, and push themselves to that ‘edge’. Often an uncomfortable edge and sometimes to the edge of life itself. It’s quite incredible and to be perfectly honest, quite inspirational at this time in my life!

I’ve often said that the closer I am to death, the more I appreciate life. I still feel that way, sadly, for some in the series, reaching that edge tamed their spirits a bit. I’m far from being at their level of experience, really far but it’s like my racing days. If there were only two of you on the track it didn’t much matter if you were both doing 30 or a buck 30… you were still racing. My edge was never nearly as sharp, but it cut just as deep. (I kinda miss those days of gravity racing in the mountains /) Ahh, another story in itself.

I’ve only watched parts of several of them but what has made me the happiest is that I understand these guys. I’ve been in their shoes and looking back, I’m thrilled to say, I’ve put myself in the same situations. Near death experiences, seeing life slow to frames like an old movie being played quarter speed. It was termed “time dilation” by one of the gents.

Wherever you are, my hero you will always be. I sure miss you Dad, we all do.

’73’ Me

“Without work, all life goes rotten. But when work is soulless, life stifles and dies.”

Albert Camus

Fear. BP meds, a don’t give a damn pill, soon to have a good stiff drink and off to bed where hopefully I won’t know what a mess I am mentally.

Rene’ has a post cancer checkup tomorrow along with her pulmonary doc taking a peek at something else. I’ve no reason to worry but that’s never stopped me before.

She’s a wonderful woman and friend who means everything to me. She needs to have a long and healthy life. I need to be there for her in a way I’m finding very difficult to accomplish.

This is all just horrible.

down a hole last night, I returned with this.
“I don’t think success is about succeeding nearly as much as it is failing a little better on the next go around.”
Attempt wonderful things.

Me

I watched in great sadness my neighbors home being leveled today. It burned a few months ago and today it was all loaded into a truck and hauled off. Decades of happiness, sadness, collections, memories. All gone in a day’s work by a few guys and some heavy equipment.

It got me thinking. We. All of us. We own nothing! We are just caretakers of the things that are here while we are. None of it is going with us, to wherever.

Whatever we think we own will simply be another’s treasure or possibly trash when we leave.

Leave pleasant thoughts and warm memories. Wander with a smile. A memory of you is all you will ever truly own. The rest is all just ‘stuff’.

I know there’s no such thing as time where you are but here, you’re 33 today.

We’ve spoken before a few times in another place on a beach. It wasn’t long enough and it doesn’t happen as often as I’d like. Please, let’s do it again soon. It’ll be fun again I hope.

Happy Birthday my Son. My Friend. We’ll meet again someday as we have a lot to catch up on.

Peace and Happiness