the frog in the well

I spoke with a man today at my favorite Indian restaurant. He described his "ascension" to the American way of life as a frog in a well. He said one rarely recognizes the climes one inhabits when it is all one has ever known. It is only when one climbs out of the well of his life and sees beyond the rim of sky, that he learns to appreciate what he has attained, and from what he has come. America was an eye-opener for him. He knew things here were different, but it took coming here and spending time to really grasp the differences between living in India and living in America. I understood all too well what he meant; I've spent time in foreign countries, albeit many years ago. But I've recently come to learn there is another kind of well... the kind we can fall into.

I've never been rich, but neither have I been so poor that I feared for where I might sleep at night, or if I could keep my dog with me. I know I have a home in Panama City-- my family would take me in --but I never considered how important it was to save for a rainy day. I, like too many others, have spent the money as it came in on the 'necessities' of living in America. I never thought I could ever be homeless, but now I find myself tipping on that very edge. I am that frog... on the edge of an abyss, with the forces of economics (among other things I'll not speak of) pushing me closer to the edge and into darkness. I need money. Lots of it. Or the cart throws a wheel; the horse, its shoe, and the frog leaps free-fall into obscurity.

I still have my job, though it has never really paid enough. I still have my car, though it is twenty years old and in constant need of repair. I still have a roof over my head, though new circumstances threaten to strip even that away. I've been in the well before, though I never saw it as such and, I'm sad to say, never thought to catalog its lessons, let alone remember them. But this is new. I spent the last two decades climbing out, in pursuit of riches-- those things I thought declared loud enough that I lived above the earth (though beneath the sky) --and even they seem to have eluded me.

One man climbs out, another falls in. I could blame partisan politics for the current state of the economy (and do) but that does nothing for my present predicament-- I could blame myself and be closer to the mark, but who truly thinks such things could come to harry them back into obscurity? The economy is not getting any better, unemployment is still too high, and inflation is still right around the corner. And I may also be there soon, just around the corner... me, my dog, a guitar, and every scrap of dignity I have left in a small canvas bag.

That may seem an image worth hanging like a Rockwell, but it's frightening as hell to be the one on the other side of the lens. I don't know what's going to happen in the months ahead. But this I do know... my job will still pay me less than I need. My car will still need repairs. I will still need a place to live. My dog will still need all the love and care he currently gets from me. And if that's all I'm ever able to manage, I guess it will have to be enough. Because, to my eternal shame, I have never been good at trusting Him.

in E's quest for balance... some things must go

I'm in need of some balance. I need to drop some of the baggage I'm carrying. I have too much on my plate, too many pans in the fire. My fingers are scalded, and my mind is a kettle on the verge of a steaming boiling scream.

I have to decide what is important, and what I can set aside.

• I'm setting aside music for now. Not my guitars, but the desire to record my music and share it. I simply don't have the time or money to invest.


• I MUST continue working on the movie poster for "Writing Christmas Cool" but I have to balance that work with the work that MUST get done at the station... a lot of changes in job duties there, and I'm not as confident as I could be that all will be well in the end... especially in THIS economy.


• I am setting aside my language studies, TV (well, MOST of the shows I watch), and every book I'm in the active process of writing or drafting... five at varying stages of completion.


• Much of my blogging is also going. I'll keep this and Letters to Mary, and my portfolios, but that's it. I simply don't have time for it.


• I'm giving up politics. Or rather, following politics.


• I'm going to pick up my brushes again. I'm going to stop putting so much effort and emphasis on Photoshop and other programs and get back to the basics. That's where my real talent lies.

And that's just for starters.


UPDATE: Monday, April 5 - 8:45am

Look closely at the man in the picture... recognize him? Was HE saved? or was this photo a study in cynicism by the late Kurt Cobain? Is this something upon which I need to focus more? What am I doing to carry light in an increasingly darkening world? A lot less that those who paid to have that billboard placed. In a search for balance, I can think of no greater duty.

I had a dream last night. I wonder if I have the nerve to actually do it. Especially since it would require using company property off the clock, and for a purpose other than news/work related.

hello, can i help you?

I have no motivation this morning. None whatsoever. This could stem from all the frustration and stress that built up over the politics page I had to build, but since I finished it yesterday, a full three days early, this could simply be the product of a kind of... stress lag? Despite being awake and alert I am in a bit of a motivational fog. I have two things that need doing, but...

No motivation. I guess the last project did take a lot out of me.

I'll get some work done today. I have to build a Space Camp contest page that won't be difficult. There's* also a Golf Contest that needs building but that deadline's still two weeks off. There are a couple of commercials that need uploading to Mixpo and linked via corresponding sets of static ads... but there's always Friday. Better yet, later today.

I'm also feeling a bit... watched... I don't know... kinda like someone is watching me here and not approving at all. But then I can't help that if this someone is remaining silent. But it's probably just my imagination; a result of having been alone for too long. Here's a thought:

Wouldn't it be cool if every time someone visited a site (including this one) you'd be able to see them? Like having an actual storefront where, every time someone enters the store the bell rings and you look up and see them, and say something like, "Hello. Can I help you?"

---
* Never begin a sentence with 'there,' boys and girls. It's just bad.

in the moment, dEfining the moment

Okay, here's something new. I came in this morning all stressed and junk, and I just decided to relax and do nothing but write. I had roughly thirty minutes I could reasonably spare and I used every one.

I thought back to a time several years ago when I took a lonesome trip to St. Petersburg to visit my grandfather. My little sister also happened to live there as did one of my aunts and uncle. So there I was the first late-afternoon of my weekend trip visiting at my sister's place. A little hole in the wall that probably cost more to live in than what I pay now... and when I say 'hole in the wall' I mean it was a typical 70-plus year-old Florida cinder-block building-- perhaps a small motel at one time --converted to tiny tiny apartments, hidden in the heart of the city by a small grove of oak and short palm.

Here I was sitting on an old dog-hair covered couch-- doing something I shouldn't have --considering the oppressive heat outside, the relative coolness of the apartment, and a KISS tune blaring from the speakers. And something clicked (as only some things can under these circumstances). I realized that Time has no bearing on 'the Moment'. That is to say, 'Moments' are not bound by any set length of time. Moments can be a split second in duration or several minutes, but the passing of time has no control or say as to how long the Moment can endure. Moments, they are fleeting, yes, but they cannot be truly measured, or their durations anticipated. The Moment begins and ends as it chooses, generally when something new intrudes, breaking the thread. And a new moment begins.

Fast forward quite a few years... this morning in fact. And I'm wondering about the moment I'm in; the one wherein I'm trying to hit the reset button. Trying to get past the log jam and the fear of failing at a task that MUST get done-- a Job-Killing must should I fail. Well, writing has always been good for me in this respect. It always allows me to clear my head and reach that button-- you know, the one that says 'Reset'?

This little poem is not the best I've ever written, but neither is it the worst. In short, it is what it is, and it got me out of one heck of a jam.

Here's what passes for thirty minutes in MY head... a fleeting moment, if you will.


In the Moment

They appear as threads
in the hackneyed tapestry
New, their life and end unfathomed
these moments when eyes first meet
hands first touch
lips first brush
And like that spark struck
burn quickly out
     ~the moment gone
Defined as the space between the when
of eyes meeting and parting
hands touching and parting
lips brushing and parting
Time is the beggar within these little ages
holding out its hand for more primacy
But it is Impression which sits upon
these thrones of relevance
Each new thread in our hackneyed tapestries
is experienced not in time
but in Impression
     ~duration goes hungry here
Moments are fleeting and singularly unique
Moments are texture
in the tapestry of our lives
Eyes see what hands feel what lips soon forget

ELAshley
031110.084502.1
Revisions:
031110.045926.6
031110.055152.6


George Harrison also sang of this in All Things Must Pass. I need to remember the old saying, 'this too shall pass', and not worry about the tensions some moments produce. Fear breeds prolifically in such environments. But what to do with Fear once it has set root?

Frank Herbert describes the process best in the Litany Against Fear...

     I must not fear.
     Fear is the mind-killer.
     Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
     I will face my fear.
     I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
     And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
     Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
     Only I will remain.


Easier said than done... Trust me.

log jam clEared

Big weight lifted today. Made some headway with the Politics Page I'm building for the station. I'll be glad when this thing is finished. All I have left to do are the center column content sections: Issues & Amendments, The Candidates, Districts, and Election Night. The templates are built, it's just a matter of populating the pages with content. I have til 5pm next Friday.

Were I a drinking man, I'd celebrate somewhere immediately after work. As it is, however, I'll kick back with a quart jar of ice cold water... at the house.