You Are Enough

"You've heard it said that you can't please everyone," I said. Well, I'm here to tell you that you can't please anyone but yourself if that."

"Are you talking to me," asked the woman about to sit at the table next to ours.

"He's practicing for the little speech he's giving later today," said Lupe in response to the question.

"Oh," said the woman and sat down at the table apparently deciding that I was no real threat.

Now you're probably wondering what's going to happen next because you know as well as I that this Lupe, mature beyond her years full to the brim with particle physics and differential equations, is about as stable as a hot quark.

And you'd be right to wonder. With a manner that's usually reserved for BFFs, she leaned over to the woman and said, "You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody."

The woman, let's call her Solveigh because she had the look of someone who regularly spends weeks without seeing the sun.

"Excuse me?" said Solveigh. 

"Maya Angelou," said Lupe.

Solveigh turned her eyes to mine as though asking for assistance.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm a stranger here myself."

Solveigh turned to look at Lupe again. Now I was confused. I would think that once would be enough but apparently she's one of the devotees of Rumi and willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

"If you look to others for validation, then you already have one foot on the banana skin," said Lupe and I'm sure she meant it to be an explanation.

Solveigh stood, picked up her latte, and headed for the door. Lupe watched her walk away.

"Too bad," I said. "I sensed that she has an interesting story to tell."

Lupe didn't reply.

"Don't you agree?" I asked.

"Well," said the godneice in a deeply thoughtful way, "you know what they say. You can measure the location or the momentum, but you can't measure both."

"Is this about quantum physics?" I asked.

"Isn't everything?" she said.

"Very true," I said. "Life comes hard and fast, especially when you're not paying attention."

National Coffee Day

So apparently September 29th is National Coffee Day, a day that means a lot to me as so many of the treasures in my life are directly related to and, in many cases, due to the consumption of infusions of that little, dark, bean. The infusions that I call Jah's Sweet Mercy because that's what it is, of course.

Not only has my life been blessed with the gifts redolent in a steaming cup of bohea, but many of the great men and women of history fueled their success on the shoulders of coffee. I'm certain of it. Probably,

I mean to say people like Catherine the Great couldn't have accomplished so much in so little time without the help of caffeine (and you shouldn't believe half those stories). 

I'm sure that I remember reading somewhere that Napoleon spoke highly of the beverage while exiled on that little island and for my part, I find it incredible that Alexander was able to get out of Macedonia without the stuff.

So you can readily understand that when I learned this morning that I had missed the celebration, I decided to celebrate by imbibing an extra cup or two, which is the only decent thing to do, so if you haven't already, do the right thing and stop by your favorite caffeine slinger's stand and enjoy a cup of bean.

Go Bean Traders!

This post was first published on October 1, 2012! I know! I've updated it on Sep 27, 2023! I know! Who'da thunk? I've added this postscript because this year September 29 will be the date of the Full Super Moon, the third one this year if my reckoning is correct. Just more reason to drink a cup of the steaming. Enjoy!

George Takei Believes in Me

Life comes hard and fast and if we aren't prepared, we can be overwhelmed by it. But it doesn't have to be that way. Fierce living keeps me free of the tyranny of emotional overload and I'm convinced that it will work for anyone. 

Sharing my personal life with the general public is not a little scary. Still, this morning I feel much better about it because I've been reading George Takei's blog. That's right. George Takei navigated the Starship Enterprise to destinations where no one had been before. And he didn't stop there.

Mr. Takei continues to chart new paths. George believes in the power of people to change the world. I'm convinced he believes that I can reach my goals if I just set a course and don't waver.

Several years ago I met a man who understood the pain and hopelessness that filled my life at the time. He suggested a different way of living, one that had completely transformed his life. I told him that I was afraid to try. Afraid that I would fail and be left hopeless. 

"You don't have to believe that it will work for you," said this man who I would later recognize as one of the winners in the game of life, "you only need to believe that I believe it works for me."

He explained that his life had changed so dramatically and all for the better because he followed a specific set of guidelines. If I followed those same guidelines, he said, then I would experience the same results that transformed his life. 

I followed his suggestions because I believed in him and it worked! Today I am free of the limitations of yesterday and I'd like to be an instrument of healing for others who suffer emotionally the way I have.

The most curious thing about the path I'm on is that when I do my best to help others, I reap the same benefits. It's a way of life that only works if you share it with others.

That's why I share the events of my life with others--to help them and to help me. It's sometimes funny and it's sometimes embarrassing. It's always a little scary for me, but hey! I believe in George Takei and he believes that I can do this so I keep doing it.

I know! George Takei believes in me! Life is good!

Bring a Tear of Joy to My Eyes

I want to get better

I really do. Living with a spoiled little tyrant inside my head is no fun, believe me. It's a bit like Alice's experience with the Red Queen. You know what that's like. On any given day, at any given time, I'm likely to hear stuff like this:

Now, you see, you're running as fast as you can and

still you're in the same place. If you really want to get somewhere, you must run twice as fast.

This is insane thinking of course and thinking like this leads to apathy, or even worse, avolition. I know, it was a new word for me too when my therapist first used it on me. Actually, I misunderstood her to say avocation and thought she was talking about my blogging. To be fair, Princess Amy's comments are what my blog posts are all about so it was an understandable mistake.

Please don't rush off to WebMD looking for a definition. I have it for you here: Avolition is a total lack of motivation that makes it hard to accomplish anything. Apathy can keep me from wanting to write a blog post. Avolition can keep me from getting out of bed in the morning.

Solutions come when you aren't searching
Over the years I've found several ways of keeping my head above the clouds when the storms of depression, anxiety, and grief come roaring in from off-shore to assault my mindscape.

I don't want you to think that I've found any secrets. All my coping tools are well known. They include things like going for a walk in the sunshine; singing along with my favorite recording artists; and enjoying humorous books, movies, and TV.

One thing I particularly like is reading books by authors who share humorous stories about how they cope with their own mental health issues, issues similar to my own. Looking for the giggles in the absurdities of our lives seems to be a common practice for people with mood disorders.

During one of Princess Amy's recent tirades, I remembered a book that I'd started months ago but lost interest because it featured taxidermy in a very distant and unnecessary way. 

Taxidermy is one of the three subjects that I avoid in popular entertainment. The other two are anarchy and the multiple-worlds theory that claims the collapse of a quantum wave function when observing entangled particles requires a second dimension or universe. I know! You and I share the same opinion!

At any rate, I decided it would be worth the risk to give the book a second try. Taxidermy be damned, was my attitude. There was no bookmark (Remember those?) to identify where I'd left off, so I decided to read a little of each chapter until I found something that I hadn't read before.

I began with the introduction because I feel the intro is basic to full appreciation and besides a number of months had passed since reading it and I didn't remember much of it. 

I felt a little better about tackling the book when the first chapter lacked any and all references to squirrel weddings. I continued reading the second and following chapters thinking that when I got to the objectionable parts, I'd just skip over them.

When I got to the fifth chapter, I was finally in new territory. I'd found the place where I'd abandoned the story months before. Everything was new and I was enjoying the book immensely. I wondered why I'd stopped reading the book on that first attempt. 

Eventually, I came to a funny story near the end of the book that has become my favorite. The author recounted how she routinely watches movies that she thinks she's never seen only to realize when she gets to the big shebang, that she has watched the movie before.

As I read that story, I immediately realized that I'd read that story before. In fact, I'd read the entire book months earlier. Then I realized that I'd experienced exactly the same thing that I was reading about and it happened while I was reading the author's recounting of her experience.

  

I'll be the Japanese have a name for that. They have a name for everything.

It's all predictable until it isn't

It's that kind of experience, a sort of quantum-jump event, that confirms for me that my life occurs in the interstitial spaces between and outside of, the moments of the space-time continuum that Einstein made such a big fuss over.

I've written about it before. The individual moments of time are round--should I say spherical? Moments are like marbles; when crammed together they only touch at one small point. The thread of time is continuous only where the individual moments touch. There's a lot of empty space surrounding the moments and that empty space is outside time.

Now that I think about it, maybe I should give that multiple-world theory another look. Maybe I have some entangled particles in another dimension. I'll ponder it but I'm not getting anywhere near taxidermy!

"Just accept whatever comes along!" ~~ Rumi

Not a direct quote

It's not the best life but it's mine and as I navigate the quantum fields of whimsy that make up my days, I have no better option than to look for all the laughter I can find in the folly. Buffett said that if we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane.

And so rather than fight Princess Amy and wrestle with avolition, I raise a glass to the laughter that sparkles like sunlight on the sea in those interstitial spaces in the realm of the absurd.

And so, share wid me a cup Jah's sweet mercy, Breden, and we shout down Babylon and sail de ship on home to Zion. 

Fierce Qigong! ~~ The Genome

Living Life Big!

Life comes hard and fast; be ready for anything.

Those of you who've been here before are familiar with the above phrase. It's become my personal motto or the slogan that defines my worldview and the general guideline for my life. Those of you who hang onto every word I write on this blog know all about Princess Amy, the spoiled brat who controls my amygdala, the gatekeeper of my emotions, especially those emotions on the fringe of acceptability for civilized society.

Few of you, however, are familiar with the Sewer Harpies, those nasty little demons, powered by bitch dust, that haunt the darkest recesses of my mind, waiting to mess with me at the times I can least afford their heinous tricks. 

The story I offer here today will serve as an excellent example of the fresh hell they bring into my everyday existence. If you're new here, don't be concerned, I'll spin the fresh hell to make it amusing if not amazing.

Yesterday morning, on my way to the Episcopal yard sale in Shallotte, I stopped at Jumping Java for a cup of the steaming brew-ha-ha. The desire for a bit of Jah's sweet mercy had a bit of topspin brought on by a natural urge well-known to old men. 

So far, it probably sounds quite simple, and straightforward but, due to a particularly mischievous prank orchestrated by the harpies, I stumbled into a chain of events that will go down in the annals as one of my most memorable blunders.

I entered the door of the caffeine emporium, where I was greeted by cheerful baristas who called their view halloos across the floor. After placing my order I made my way to the restroom, blissfully unaware of the comedy of errors awaiting me. 

With a sense of precaution (or so I thought), I employed the toe of my shoe to raise the toilet seat and in that way maintain a semblance of cleanliness; a reasonably sensible act, don't you agree?

As I lifted the toilet seat with my foot, I was surprised to learn that only one side of the seat was held in place. In an unfortunate twist of fate, my shoe slipped a little too far into the hoop of the toilet seat leaving me standing on one foot without any other visible means of support. Time slowed down, which is usually the case just before disaster strikes. I think it's the Universe's way of rubbing it in. 

As I desperately tried to regain my balance, the inevitable occurred, and particle mechanics demonstrated the deterministic nature for which it's so well known. With a loud crash, the toilet seat detached from its porcelain throne, and I fell into the wall with a boom-cacky-lacky-lacky that reverberated throughout the previously serene coffee shop.

As fate would have it, the manager rushed to the scene and called through the closed door to ascertain my degree of health. Well, we Genomes maintain the sang froid of chilled steel in situations like these and I explained the calamity while offering an apology for the damage I'd done.

To my complete astonishment, the manager responded with a surprising laid-back remark: "Don't worry about it," he said, "happens all the time." 

I'm not sure what you make of his remark but, as for me, I doubt that ripping the seat off the toilet is something that happens regularly. However, to return to a semblance of normality as soon as possible, I decided to give the whole subject a miss. Still, the incident left an indelible mark on my memory, serving as a reminder that life has a unique way of humbling us when we least expect it. 

Or put another way, life comes hard and fast. Be ready for anything.

I'm tempted to take myself too seriously sometimes. That's exactly why I've been away from this blog for so long. Hiding from the slings and arrows has left me practically a recluse for the last few months and that isn't mentally healthy. So once again I've resolved to share my life experiences with you, even the embarrassing ones. 

In the act of laughing at myself, I hope to find the freedom to live my life fully and completely. I think of it as living big. The idea is that if I fill my life with the actual experience of living, rather than regretting the past or anticipating the future, there will be precious little room left for doubt and fretting.

Once more, I invite you to share the absurdities of life with me. After all, we're on this journey together. Please leave comments about your own bugaboos. When I hear from you, it lets me know that I'm not alone and I like knowing that you're here with me.