I’m freaked out. I won’t sugarcoat that because it’s affecting my day to day everything.
I long for the days just a scant few months ago when I could wake up, scan a few media feeds, assemble a post and go on with my day, carrying only a small portion of the world’s weight on my shoulders. Certainly as the months and years that are ahead of us go by, I expect this worry and weight to grow, and I will try with all that I am to not let it taint the forum which we have built here together.
Clearly, there are more than enough places to turn to if you want your own personal seeds of fear to germinate, and I don’t want this to be one of them. These days I’ve found inspiration/light-heartedness hard to come by, but it is because I appreciate the community we have here enough to attempt and offer an environment devoid of negative influences. It’s as much for my own sanity’s well being as it is for yours.
To the people who’ve made contact and offered me words of support and encouragement recently, I can’t thank you enough. They have made for a mighty fine safety net when I find myself free falling into dark places.
Back into 2012 I found myself in similar circumstances, and it was with help from my wife, family, friends, and readers of this very website that I was able to right my proverbial ship. It was also due in part to a video I found featuring an interview with a man named John Major Jenkins, who was largely responsible for deciphering the Mayan Calendar;
I would love to offer a CliffsNotes version of his perspective, but his is far too complex to do so.
One point that he makes is that 2012 marked the end of a cycle, and at that point we would begin to see the breakdown of the establishment. This includes church, the government, and so on. It’s the start of the pendulum swinging back, and a re-setting of a sort of clock. Like doing a deep clean of your apartment, and as is a rule of nature, things must get way worse before they can get better.
It offered solace to me only in the realization that as things begin to collapse, the best anyone can hope for is to be present in the process surrounded by the people who you love.
Again, part of the reason I say this is to hear it coming from my own mouth, but to also immerse myself in it with like minded human beings. Dare I say that we here are a community of empaths, and as such, when the world hurts, we hurt, and these days it would seem as though there far more of that to go around than is reasonable.
We’re going to get through this, and if periodic affirmations can help at all, as I avoid news feeds when I feel as though my brain can’t take any more, I will continue to make them.
So it’s with that, that I ask the people reading these words right now to do me a favor and not only remember the sweetest components of your life, but to check in with me from time to time and share them. It’s important for me, and by extension, important for people who come here to find sanctuary to not only know that they’re not alone, but almost more importantly, that we stand together in a pursuit for a better world.
In the meantime, and in order to provide just a bit of levity, I predict that T***p’s stay in office won’t last more than six months;
As cyclists, we’re all too aware just because something claims it’s here to stay, doesn’t mean it is;
All of that gives me hope, and as I’ve said here before, if I don’t have that, I have nothing.
As I continue on with today’s post, I would now like to offer up a slice of just exactly what I mean, coming from Cranpa of Cranpa and his Least Most;
I think that right there is a perfect example of embracing that in life which is sweet, though I doubt their downstairs neighbors would be inclined to agree.
Finally, because I’ve spent more of my free time riding bikes, painting, and putting the finishing touches on my Nerd-Off entry, than I did penning a post, I’ll leave you with the majesty of the air drummer formerly known as Kevin Dabbs;
For those who don’t know the back story, to the best of my addled recollection, it goes like this- Canadian kid video tapes himself playing air drums, kid forgets video tape when he moves out of his house. Roommates find video tape, and have their minds blown. One of said roommates works at a local club and plays video tape between bands. Upon seeing this, a member of (if memory serves) the Mr. T. Experience pleads with owner of tape for a copy. Copy is brought back to San Francisco, and duplicates are made. Soon the air drummer formerly known as Kevin Dabbs is an underground sensation. Local reporter tracks him down to notify him of his stardom, Kevin is flummoxed. From that point, his legend only increases, with the video being shown everywhere from news reports to MTV. The rest, as they say, is history.
For a low-aimer like myself, becoming a viral star before there was any such thing is nearly as high an achievement as I can conjure, and so it is for the air drummer formerly known as Kevin Dabbs that I refrain from putting bananas in my ears only long enough to offer him a salute.