Thanksgiving Day

Last week, I had fantasized that I would celebrate Thanksgiving by roasting myself a small, fresh turkey, with delectable gravy and stuffing...and a few side relishes to boot.

That was last week.

I haven’t made much progress on the infection front, so I still find it almost impossible to eat. Instead of sitting down at a table filled with delicious victuals, lovingly prepared, I am sitting in front of my LCD monitor, keyboard at my fingertips. Glass of wine within easy reach.

And I’m grateful for all of this.

All of it.

Every bit of it.

And all of you.

-- Wishing you and yours a happy Thanksgiving --

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Never-Ending Rain

It’s a ten-hour ride from Knoxville to Chicago. By motorcycle. No dawdling. I’d enjoyed that ride many times before, but I knew it would be different this time. The weather maps indicated solid rain the entire way, the dolorous remnant of a hurricane that had battered the coast just days before.

OK. There’s a certain thrill inherent in riding a heavy machine through pouring rain at Interstate speeds. It gets real old. Real fast. It’s very much a “living in the now” experience. It’s surreal to hurtle through space, blinded by mist, stung by countless watery darts, slippin’ ’n slidin’, teetering on the edge of disaster every inch of the way. I pass an “outlaw” or two. Oh, one certainly pays one’s dues to be an outlaw! Those suckers truly suffer on days such as this...then again, I doubt many are riding all day and all night such as this fool. Riding in the rain, for hours on end, transports you to the world of never-ending rain. One comes to feel as if this is all that life is, and will ever be. Time loses all meaning. There’s simply roar and discomfort, blinding gray and constant chill in a never-ending dance with disaster. Strange world, that.

Life feels like that, too...some seasons...some years. I’ve been quite ill of late, and it’s come to feel like that endless ride from Knoxville to Chicago. Funny how it brings to sharp focus the only things I truly need: warm shelter, dry clothes, a warm glass of milk and a hand to soothe my furrowed brow.

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That Watershed Moment

It’s well nigh impossible to assess the true character of a human heart...even one’s own. We use words (Oh, so many words!) to describe our selves, our wants, desires, ideals (and imperfections) to others. We go through life “self-characterized”, for the most part.
The face we reveal to the world is the face we primp and preen to present.

Words are our cosmetics.

I don’t really have a problem with that. I believe most of us want to embody our ideals. I believe we humans, for the most part, want to live peaceful, loving, noble lives. We certainly tell ourselves that, often enough. We assure others we are peaceful, honest, loving and noble people.

Then comes that “Watershed Moment.”

Wa-ter-shed (noun): 3. turning point
An important period, time, event, or factor that marks a change or division.

Ah, yes, the “Watershed Moment.”

One never knows when that watershed moment will come. One never knows if there will be just one...or many. One can never know one’s future. I’m pretty certain, though, that we will all face at least one true watershed moment in our lifetimes.

It’s easy to be virtuous, when virtue isn’t challenged. It’s easy to be faithful when faith is simply an abstraction. It’s easy to be chaste, when no one’s there to tempt us. It’s easy to sacrifice...when that’s your only option. We believe we are who we say we are...and all is fine and good...until that fateful watershed moment.

A watershed moment demands a decision, compels action.
A watershed moment can’t be bypassed or sugarcoated with words.
A watershed moment demands that we reveal our true selves...our essence.

Do I forsake integrity for money (power, sex, whatever)? Do I tend to the needy parent, or tend to my own life? Do I stay or do I go? Do I take responsibility? Do I not?

Oh, those watershed moments! They come without warning. They come when least expected. They ambush us when we are ill-prepared.

A man impregnates a woman. What to do? A hand reaches out for succor or mercy. What to do? Ambition conflicts with another’s dreams. What to do? The vow that’s now crushing you. What to do?

What to do?

In that watershed moment, in the blink of an eye, we reveal our true character. From that moment on, from that decision forward, we are who we demonstrated ourselves to be. From that point on, words no longer define us.

When all is said and done...we are what we do.

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And for those who found your way to this entry searching for a definition of "watershed moment" you can find my answer here.

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Lover Lay Down

Generally speaking, there’s always a reason. There’s a reason that I’ve been listening to, and hearing Dave Matthews’ “Lover Lay Down” incessantly. I simply had to figure out what it was that I was experiencing.

I think I’ve come to understand.

I fell in love with that particular song when I first heard it in the mid-90’s. So tender, so hopeful, so longing. I felt that song in my marrow, then. I viscerally knew how and what he was feeling. I understood.

That man, who loved that song, is no more.

I listen to Dave Matthews sing his song of love and Perfect Faith but, now, it’s all an abstraction...melancholic nostalgia. I hear the lyrics echoing in my head with a certain emotional detachment.

But I keep listening.

Maybe it’s because I’m craving inspiration. Maybe I’m searching for the crumbs that will someday lead me back to Perfect Faith.

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I Can't Get It Out Of My Head

I was listening to an old CD mix I had made (seemingly a long, long time ago...) when I came across this song. I can't get it out of my head. I hear it over and over and over and over, again...in my head.

Always in my head.

Sadly, not my heart.

What does that mean? What does that portend?

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