Love is clockworks
And cold steel
Fingers to numb to feel
Squeeze the handle
Blow out the candle
Love is blindness
-u2

Say hello to “Tippy”. One day she just “showed up”. Isn’t that just the way with cats?? For no reason they just suddenly appear at your door and will not leave. This one showed up staving. She obviously had been outside for some time and was not used to fending for herself. You can imagine the chain of events where a 6 year old quickly becomes attached and soon you have no choice but to invite the homeless begger in! LOL. Oh well, not that I would mind too much if she would’nt keep sharpening her claws on the couch.

On the other end of the spectrum I managed to get someone really cheesed off at me. I’ve had a year for that sort of thing. Some was certainly my fault and some was not. The problem here though is that they have one of my kayaks and have refused to return it. That’s the thing about human relationships. We are certainly not always perfect, (well, I’m not anyway) but most of us give them our best efforts and sometimes they just go south. When they end you just hope you can go your separate ways in peace. Of course sometimes hurt and anger get in the way and motivate people to act in ways they would never imagine of themselves, or for that matter you would imagine of them. One minute you’re imagining a bright new future, the next you find yourself in a silly battle over material things.

A year ago I felt very cloistered and depressed by the way my life had been going. Not in a normal lay on the couch sort of way, but a “Hi Doc, thanks for the meds.” sorta way. At the time I would write about that often here at Quix. Something that some railed on me for as “staring at my belly button”. Yeah, they were right of course. Yet, it’s that deep continual focus inward that often leads to change. I’m certainly not the first person to go through personal re-evaluations. For people like me who write daily on the web, we tend to share those personal episodes. When you write each day it can be hard not to write about the thoughts spinning around in your head. A blank pages wants to be filled. Typing your feelings and sharing them can in many ways help you get a better understanding of your own internal workings. Writing as many people know can be quite cathartic.

Out of those dark writings and melancholia I did find motivations to make changes. To face some things head on, and to jump over some cliffs and explore some new routes. Along this turbulent year I learned more about myself and about those around me than was possible while I sat hidden in a dark little office writing. Each relationship faced a trial by fire in a sense. “This is me!” I shouted out to everyone around who cared to hear. I’m many things. I’m human. I’m contradictory sometimes and dogmatic on others. I can understand but not agree. I can feel hurt, mad, angry, lonely, tired, scared, brave, & weak. Yes, I can swear when I’m mad and fall back to a smoke when my nerves are in threads. We all want to be popular and loved but we can’t, and shouldn’t try to please everyone. We just can’t be all things to everyone.

I was telling a story about these days in my life. Something that paddling the oceans can teach. Out in the deep ocean your life is fairly simple. You paddle, you breath, you eat, you live. All the intricacies of life filter down to just you and the environment. Simply taking in life and surviving. After all you chose to be there. You live with your choices. When the world around you goes mad you can of course run to the shore. Still that sunny nap on a warm sandy beach comes at a price. If the ocean is angry out where you are, the surf is going to probably be much worse. As the cleche goes “It will get worse before it gets better”. But you can’t sit still. You can’t just decide to quit and stop paddling. So you turn your boat toward the shore and head toward that wild surf. As you approach a warm, sunny beach the waves begin to build and your adrenaline begins to run. Although the beach is only meters ahead, your mind has to be in the “now”. In the surf you have to forget about the beach and just watch the water, ride the waves, look for obstacles, control what you can and accept what you can’t. Sometimes we glide up on the sand like a dart. Sometimes we bongo slide all the way in. Sometimes we get trashed. We bounce and roll crashing on the shore like a worn out bit of driftwood. Most of the time thankfully, we survive. This year I went out into the ocean. The seas became rough. I turned in toward shore and now I’m screaming headlong through the surf. I can’t control the ocean or temper the size of the waves. All I can do. . . is brace.