I’m not sure about a life after this
God knows I’ve never been a spiritual man
Baptized by the fire, I wade into the river
That runs to the promised land ~ Billy Joel, River of Dreams
How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies
Perhaps we don’t fulfill each others fantasies
And as we stand upon the ledges of our lives,
With our respective similarities
It’s either sadness or euphoria ~ Billy Joel, Summer/Highland Falls
It’s a journey down south today – Social Security Office, then PetsMart. I guess I’ll be taking this anxiety with me, but I hope not. Sometimes it gives me no choice, and I can never tell beforehand if it will ride shotgun, keeping me edgy, and mildly hypervigilent, and ripped wide open in the space between hope and fear. In the wide open space is the Middle Way. It’s my best bet. Tis not enlightenment I seek. It is simply a replacement for my SS card, information about early retirement, advice on whether it would be wise, and a good lunch, maybe a green chile cheeseburger; comfort food. Hey, look, okay? I’m am hyperreactive as well; so says the brain surgeon, Dr. Smucker. He never touched my brain but he touched my figurative heart, repairing a disfigured spine after 27 years of waiting. I love the man for what he did; 27 years of deep pain, gone, poof. Yesterday was as bad as it gets, depression-wise. On days like that synchronicities cluster and they ain’t the good kind. Poor me, right? The thing of it is that the accident, a freakish occurrence, was also marked darkly as the source of this friggin PTSD. That’s yer basic hypervigilence and reactivity right there. Boy howdy I really oughtta get a scrip for medical marijuana. My doctor’s clinic will not do that. Dang. Now, I’d best shoer and hit the road. I hope to have a fun day, on the path of the Middle Way, and the Beauty Way. Onward . . .
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.