closure

a couple of years ago i became suddenly and unexpectedly sick. (of course unexpectedly. who expects to get suddenly sick?) i had severe pulmonary embolisms that knocked me unconscious, sent me to the hospital, and so on and so on.

(insert long boring medical drama here)

for a year my life was changed pretty radically. regular blood tests. countless doctor visits. a prescription that changed with the tide. and a lingering question of 'why?'

not in the philosophical sense.. but the physical sense, mainly. it changed my life. probably like most people who are told they 'should've died on X date', it made me really stop and consider if i was doing everything i could to take care of myself and better my odds against whatever mystery cause was underlying.

after a year though, i'd pretty much set aside my search for the cause and felt i was in better health than i'd ever been before. and in the year since then, i haven't given much thought at all to that incident other than a fleeting concern about what it may do to my insurance premiums, if i'm insurable at all, post-cobra.

that is, until a couple of weeks ago when mom mentioned that she heard about a class action lawsuit against a pharmaceutical company for a medicine i was taking at the time i got sick. for people with blood clots. particularly in the lungs and/or brain.

as it turns out, that was the cause, though i didn't know it or attribute it with any certainty until i read the case. so, i have closure. and maybe i'll be able to recoup some of my expenses. but i said to haley today, it changed my life for the better in so many ways; i feel as though i already received compensation.

*sigh*

d: more thorough drug testing before release.
b: i found the silver lining.
g: closure.

next

when i turned 16 i didn't run right out and get my driver's license. though i'd had a learner's permit for the requisite year, or technically two since i got one at 14 in arkansas and another at 15 in georgia, i didn't actually get my driver's license until i was 17.. going on 18. i knew how to drive, of course, i simply didn't have my own car or one to use; so it seemed pointless.

having just obtained another license i'm feeling antsy to put it to use. predictably i'm finding roadblocks and detours along the path (flooded bridges?) but what's most disconcerting is the stall i'm experiencing at the start line.

as i reread that it sounds very passive (and cloyingly cheesy), as though all these things are happening to me, and i realize that's the problem. for the past year i've been steadily pursuing this goal and now that the official part is accomplished, i'm at a loss for what to do next. i just know it should be something. something.

i often tell the boys to 'do the next right thing' when they're frustrated or upset. just one thing at a time, just the next right thing. it seems like 'next' is easier than seeing the whole picture sometimes. less overwhelming.

next i need to call an accountant.
next i need to compose my mission statement.
next i need to start shameless self-promotion.

hmm, still overwhelmed.

when i was 16 and able to go get my driver's license, yet opted not to, i don't think it was because i didn't have my own car. not really. i think really i was afraid. not afraid of the actual driving, but afraid of the act of asserting myself and asking for the opportunity to prove i was capable and deserving of driving. and really.. really.. i think afraid of being told no.

so now, i'm feeling overwhelmed and i ask myself 'overwhelmed with what?' and i think it's the same thing. overwhelmed with fear. fear of being told no. so instead i've been telling myself no.

d: yes'es to myself.
b: i'm a very capable driver. and i'm a very capable trainer.
g: my advice is good advice.. the next right thing... that's right.

3:1

today atlanta is flooded. many say this is our '100 year flood'. it's a mind-boggling amount of water in places you don't expect to find it, that's for sure. three of the four routes from my neighborhood to the city were blocked by water at 11 am this morning. of course, i found the only way out and made it in from the burbs. only to then be trapped in town by the rising waters. go figure.

but really, i think that a 100 year flood occurring within my mere 35 years is a very good sign. it's sort of like winning the weather lottery. everyone knows that the 100 year natural disasters often don't occur with centennial regularity, it can take hundreds of years in fact to see one. yet in my lifetime i've already experienced georgia's 100 year blizzard and 100 year flood and the first tornadoes in a major metro area.

that surely demonstrates that my odds are better than the average bear.

so while the rivers rise and the mud slides, i'll be buying lottery tickets and looking for the rainbow; because i feel very lucky tonight.

d: may my extraordinary run against the odds carry on
b: 3:1 baby, 3:1
g: rained in right where i want to be

inhale

mega's head is resting on the keyboard beside my typing fingers. when she thinks i'm not looking she starts licking me. i just applied lotion and though i can't detect what must certainly be a strong meat odor, she definitely can. until i cover it up or absorb it i'll be a walking lamb chop.

i guess i can relate though. in fact, the cologne haley wore on our first date sort of makes me want to sneak up and lick her when she's not looking. tonight i left a not-so-discreet arrow, made from bathroom essentials, pointing to the bottle on the bathroom counter. she'll be getting ready in there soon.. just a subtle hint.

they say that our sense of smell holds the longest memory and i strongly believe that. there are smells that can take me back to a memory i'd long filed away and evoke the sense of it being this very instant. i love that. i think i love it most because it's invisible.

smells are so complex and layered and it's the unique balance of elements that must occur at the partical level for us to find familiarity, and so i'd think it wouldn't ever happen. yet it does.

i read a book a couple of years ago, perfume, about a french murderer named jean-baptiste grenouille. jean-baptiste was born without a personal scent of his own. no scent at all. but an extraordinary sense of smell, himself. he proceeds to kill women and girls to capture their scents as he becomes a renowned perfumer. it was horrific and disturbing and yet morbidly fascinating as well.

in the story jean-baptiste is not accepted by society until he concocts a 'natural' body scent for himself. interesting. maybe what we designate as an energy aura is simply a person's scent. maybe attraction to a person's energy is really just an appetite for their aroma.

remember the movie michael? he smelled like chocolate chip cookies. nobody could resist him.

hmm, lamb chop energy. lucky me.

d: more baking chocolate in my energy's aroma.
b: i love deep breathing: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
g: haley's sweet smell wafted my way.

juggler

throw, throw, catch, catch.

haley says that's the secret to juggling. all this time i thought throwing and catching one at a time, in rapid succession of course, was enough. keeping one in the air at a time, surely that's juggling, i thought. and that, that i could handle.

throw, throw, catch, catch

two in the air at once means you have to have three (or more) going, by my calculations. so now, i think i really am juggling.

throw, throw, catch, catch

two jobs, my boys and a primary relationship. wait, that's four. (or five if i really want to be literal about my boys.)

throw, throw, catch, catch

two jobs, my boys, a primary relationship, and a puppy. because really, if i'm being honest, mega is at least as important as one of those jobs, if not both.

throw, throw, catch, catch

two jobs, my boys, a primary relationship, a puppy, and writing. juggling six is a lot, but i went to cirque du soleil and i know it can be done. it simply will take practice.

throw, throw, catch, catch

d: catching to go with the throwing
b: i can juggle!
g: another pin to toss.. one i've missed tremendously.

cigars

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word...

-morning has broken by cat stevens

tonight i drove by a new urban market store front. it's still under construction and all the interior lights were left on, presumably for security. it only resembles the vaguest outline of what it will eventually be. a counter in place, an arched brick hearth on a wall fireplace and some hip light fixtures. the rest of the space is filled with drop cloths and ladders.

when i looked in the window, passing in my car, i got a quick jolt of energy. it was as though i was witnessing a birth or baby's first steps. for a brief second i imagined the growing tension and anticipation and pure energy of these people whose dream is being created in every item they select for their new shop. every fixture they select. every night they lock the door and go home exhausted thinking of all that needs to be done to bring their vision to reality.

i must drive by a dozen (or more) new businesses in various stages of birth on a daily basis, so when i felt a peculiar zap from this one, on this day, it gave me pause. why, i wondered, did this resonate with me so strongly?

perhaps it is because i can relate. today i handed out my first business cards for my new pursuit, dbg fitness; and though i officially became certified as a personal trainer exactly one month ago, and have been working towards it for the bulk of this year, the ceremony of having a real business card printed and handing them out proudly felt a little bit like passing out cigars.

right after i drove by the imminent shop-opening, the song morning has broken queued up on my ipod. indeed, morning has broken. and while i'll spare you my singing, i will offer my praise nonetheless..

d: birth of dreams
b: one down, one to go
g: morning has broken

aged

i think i've aged over the past twenty-four hours. last night i looked at pictures of friends from college whose oldest child just entered college. i remember when he was a baby. as i searched their faces for what i remember and looked at older versions of my friends, i couldn't help but wonder how different i must be too.

then today haley and i drove up from atlanta to asheville. it's the first time i've been here in 12 years, i think. i couldn't remember a single highway name or number until i was upon them and even then the familiar and the alien ran together. i actually had to stop and ask directions to downtown, never mind that i lived here and worked here for years.

(in fact, i still have a key to a local movie theater on my key chain. but could i get there? probably not.)

and in case you were wondering, asheville is a black hole for the gps satellite. yep, it is. take note if you want to escape surveillance - this is the place.

but maybe there's something to be said for being older and more forgetful because asheville looked fresh to me. the charm and the energy and the entire downtown vibe - all of it was shiny and new.

so tomorrow when i venture back to my old college campus if i suddenly feel very old in the face of what i don't remember, i choose to focus on the gift of rediscovery because i do remember that the G is the most important letter in dbg.

despite my absence of published blogs, i've been practicing my dbgs and writing my blogs, all in my aging, forgetful head.

d: memories to fill the holes in my head.
b: i found a very cute antique cabin for the weekend - convenient and quaint.
g: a map i picked up in the cabin rental office!