The Mundane

clenched jaw

strained happiness

young love buried

tears behind smiles

shaking hands

clouded heart

minor key

focus lost

lost

A day when the head and heart hurt and yearn for something other. There’s no direct to why I’m feeling that other than it’s life. Life feeling incomplete and void of the passion you naively thought it would sustain forever. I grab a beer and take to the pen and paper to sort out the discontent that’s ever present.

I’ve been complaining a bit (a lot) about my 35th Birthday, which is Sunday. Today I was reminded that I shouldn’t be complaining but embracing another year that I am alive on this big rock. 

Reminders:

one: I get to look at the above magnificent view at least once a week. That’s Laguna Beach and that’s where I have the pleasure of working….capturing this little slice of paradise in words and pictures.

two: The beach is my absolute happy place….the sound of waves crashing, the sand pushing in on my toes, the spray on my face, the vastness of life in the ocean fill me with such hope that I find it hard to complain about one god damned thing in my life when I stand at the waters edge.

three: A friend reminded me that it’s not the number, the state of physical appearance or even the unaccomplished goals that I should be worrying about on my birthday. Instead I should be focusing on the goodness of what is and the the promise of what the future holds.

four: Work surprised me with cake, a card, and my first “Happy Birthday” serenade today when I walked through the doors. In the three years I’ve worked there they have never acknowledged my birthday. That’s quite alright because I do not expect work folk to remember those kinds of things. I teared up at my desk as I read the sweet notes that they wrote about much they appreciated what I did for them and how I made every Wednesday a joy. I was speechless.

five: I sent a link to a friend today about an upcoming concert in LA. This is was for an artist that the both of us have fallen head over heals for. About 10 minutes later the friend text me to let me know that we had tickets and were going to the show. Again, I was speechless.

six: I got home to a the sun still soaking the backyard with golden light and decided to not let it go to waste. I slipped into shorts and wife beater (classy I know) and sat in the sunlight as my kids hollered and played around me. My heart felt full. I felt content. 

I feel ready for 35…

Apparently I have grown super human godlike powers. I told my kids they can love whomever they choose and that is equal to “turning them gay.”  This I had a good laugh at.

Hey, but if I really do have special powers I should probably start a religion that magically turns everyone gay by spreading acceptance and love. What a better fucking world that would be instead of this bigoted and hate filled shit hole we are stuck in.

I want friends that let me breathe…that see through my bitterness and flaws…that come without judgement and embrace all that I am and will be….

Do any of us really and truly mean what we say? Can we follow through with the overtures and promises that we make to one another? I throw around “I love” XYZ pretty easily when I am talking about things I enjoy in life. But when it comes to people and my emotions about people in my life I don’t choose my words lightly.  I do mean what I say to them…when I say I love them, when I give a compliment, when I commit to a friendship I commit with my whole heart. I fight for true friendship and I fucking care what happens to the people in my life. I CANNOT stand people who don’t take friendship seriously and I do not have the time for their antics in my life. It’s time to cleanse the baggage out and press, ever forward to those that bring truth, light, love, commitment and strength to my life.

Must continue to remind myself to hold on to the happiness that I make for myself. I cannot let it be dampened by those that choose to criticize and mock rather than understand. 

(That’s the two sentence pep talk I’ve been giving to myself for the last week.)

Last week I spent on vacation with my kids at my Mother’s place in Northern California. It was a good trip, it was a weird trip. Somewhere in the last ten years my relationship  with my mother has transformed into me taking on the parenting role and her the child. It mostly revolves around her dating life where she seems to be stagnate in her maturity level at the ripe old age of 16. I’ve had to coach her through many breakups and counsel her during countless emotional breakdowns concerning men. This trip was no different with her starting on the highest mountain peak of new found love and within a matter of two days crashing down to the pit of being broken hearted. Needless to say much of the trip was consumed with me helping her sort through her feelings. As an outsider I can see her pattern and the repeated mistakes she makes each time by choosing assholes to giver her heart to. I have been gently trying to help her see it and even have gotten stern with her about it too, and yet it continues to fall on deaf ears. I expend so much energy assisting her and none of it makes one god damned difference. I returned home exhausted, emotionally and physically, and yet resolute. I can no longer take on the burden of trying to “help” my mother seek out mature and healthy relationships. I don’t want to be her parent either. I have my own three children to parent and they NEED me to guide them through childhood and that is where my focus will lie. I only pray that I do a good enough job that they will emerge as independent, confident, mature and well mannered functioning adults, unlike my Mother.