Still here typing with an index finger on my phone

What happened is my computer died and then something happened to my internet connection - the modem, the router, some freaking thing. I’ve been having trouble with technology lately. Money hasn’t really been cooperating either. But I still walked in the woods yesterday under a cloudless blue sky and saw and heard and felt and smelled and connected. And I was, to a large degree, restored. 

Therapy

Yes, I did hear the sound recorded in that Martian crater. I recognized it. It's the sound you hear when all the doors have closed behind you and you find yourself outside. I mean really outside. Disconnected. People die out here. They freeze. They become skeletons, dust piles, scarecrows. They sing sad songs that no one hears. They erase themselves slowly.  

There's the question of who closed those doors on you of course. There was an original action which prompted a fear, and then there was an interpretation, then a conclusion, then a generalization, then a coherent storyline that became essential to your personal lore. Something you'd read aloud on the holidays in the future. An internal family tradition. 

And by reading the story aloud, through practice, you became the Closer of Doors. I'm writing about resentment now. I'm examining my role in the conspiracy. It wasn't your fault. You were framed. I wanted to play my saddest song for you. To write you into the latest verse. And that's just what I did..

I'm sorry. I love you. I forgive you. I release you.

Allow

Setbacks to test the mindset, I suppose. Alright then, I accept and choose my response. Ain't nothin' but a thang.

Hey babe

October and it's passing quickly. A bit of a crash or a hangover or a let down or something else I'm not going to attach any particular significance to. I'm here. That counts.

Not the kid

Tedium arrives. Medical record audits. They are pretty far from a few of my favorite things. The deadline was today. Just get them done. Maybe figure out a better way for next month. I noticed the quality of my thoughts changing. I could actually feel my mind down-shifting. That famous lower vibration I've heard so much about and lived with for so long. I didn't stay there long. Just a visit to the useless complaint department. I pissed and moaned a little and then smiled at myself and got on with it. 

Outside and in

I walked in the woods this morning. It's been awhile. The final green of the year is changing or changed. The air is scented with the sweetness of fallen browning orange, red, and yellow leaves and mildly spiced with evergreen. I walk slowly. There's something like a mild heartbreak here. I've been away. Much has happened here since my last visit. Much has arrived and passed away without my notice or attention. Every living thing on its individual trajectory among the massive forward momentum of all life. I stop and talk with some of the mighty oaks. I watch the final flowers - white and purple and gold - turn sunlight into love which is then carried home by the final bumble bees still working tirelessly in the hundreds along the roadside. The fur-coated wooly bears are here. The quiet chatter of the Chickadees in the branches. Yellow leaves gently falling. I try not to step on the exposed roots of trees with my heavy boots.  I tell everything alive that I love it. I make an effort to feel how we are connected and then do. I pray to something I don't understand for our survival. It tells me gently to do better. To try harder.