Down a Hole

I remembered just in time to take my wallet out of my pocket. Typically by the time I realize my mistake the name was been mostly scratched off the face of my credit card and driver's license. The clay silt gets deep into everything. Worse than going to the beach and finding sand in your swimsuit, the clay works its way into your fingernails and between your toes and behind your ears.

I remembered just in time to take my wallet out of my pocket and put it in the car. I remembered just in time how much I needed this today. It's cold, maybe 20 degrees F. It's warmer down the hole. This little clay foxhole I've dug by hand is nearly 5 ft deep. I reach down between my feet barely scraping handfuls of clay up and lifting them to the surface. The red stains cover my clothes, gloves and tools, even my hat is blemished. The wind is whipping around the corner of the cabin piercing my face every time I come to the surface gulping air before submerging again.

Everything else I do in my life becomes a little more focused as I pant for breath and strain against a creaking wooden handle. The clumps of red come out piece by piece. Happy to dig and feel my personal machinery working. I'm content with the labor, the dirt and the cold.

The clay will equalize you. You either dig a hole or you don't. You can give up because it's difficult, you could hurt yourself under the strain, or you can keep going one coffee can full at a time. I will change clothes when I get home. I'll throw them on the basement floor, but my car seats are stained. My work gloves, wore ragged, are light pink as the clay dries. Everything I touch or manipulate bears evidence of my passing. The clay is deposited whether I like it or not, it cannot truly be undone, washed away or removed. Weeks later my boots are still leaving clay prints where I walk.

My wallet will never be the same. The wear will not go away, it will not repair itself. It's been tarnished along with its contents inside. My plastic identities deformed, rubbed the wrong way and good for little but an impromptu guitar pick.

The progression

Thinking, as I often do when staying up all night, listening to the dull roar of sleeping life, I realized that I am again in a very different life situation for about the 5th time in as many years. It's not just about where I live, the place I call home or where I work or who I spend time. My milieu has changed, the activities and topics which dominate my time and steer my investments have been altered. The hobbies and skills which I thought defined my personality have been replaced by other things. Lately, speaking about the last 6 months, my environment and how I influence it is different.

I am a night worker, watching grown men sleep for most of my 10 hour shift, meeting interesting characters and having interesting conversations. I ride a motorcycle to work and back whenever possible, covering over 120 miles and spending over 2 hours in the saddle each day. Our old house needs bits of renovation and constant repair, so I find myself learning more about plumbing, electrical, masonry, and carpentry than I would normally be inclined. I say "our" because I share my life with a girl who is beautiful and intelligent, stubborn and opinionated and who causes me many moments of joy and anguish. We are trying this year to grow many vegetables, selling to friends, family, neighbors and the extended community of coops and restaurants. This farming venture has occupied much of my time, fixing things that break, preparing soil, and learning the process of how to best foster predictable and marketable growth.

Often times I think my life is defined by the problems I solve and physical things I repair. Irrigation pumps get drowned in a rising river, lawn mowers have delicate plastic pieces which shear off, cars suffer much wear and tear from long commutes to town, wood stoves need chimneys installed through roofs, roofs need patching to keep the rain out, greenhouses need rafters and walls rebuilt due to collapse from snow load. The complications of life have multiplied simply because of all the new factors which determine "success."

I have my hobbies. Things I thought were important and personally defining; hunting, fishing, camping, practicing primitive living skills, reading literature, playing guitar, taking road trips. Many of these have become less important as I spend more time weight lifting, gardening, playing soccer, fixing broken things, and preparing for winter.

Feeling strung out, spread too thin, stressed, run down, exhausted, or whatever sort of depressing descriptor you'd like, I am surprisingly sane. I find many moments of calm and fight the urge(thought sometimes lose) to become upset about losing control of life. I long for the times of a care free life. Much time was spent with friends. There were more random adventures and places to explore. I am very often alone, close to a hermit, but keeping in vague contact with those loyal few who I value for their character.

I still only weigh 170 pounds. I do not fill my clothes. Best shape of my life? It might be, but their is much more to gain yet. My physical body is more defined in line with my mental thoughts. I have a sharpness, a poignant no apologies attitude. If there is something to be ashamed of, I hope to already have considered it. Just as I continue to consider my progression, the uphill slide by the seat of my pants.

An Inspirational Bruce

Looking for inspiration when times get stressful, I try to remind myself that there is a certain dignity which can be maintained if your mental state is truly unperturbed by the forces of the world around you. It's something often talked about in the eastern religions and the phony self help section of Barnes and Noble. On a particular day, I went to the gym and felt my mind clear after pushing heavy objects around and sweating for an hour or so. The superficialities of time, money, and relationships melted away for that brief hour due to my focus on simply moving a weight in a certain direction with a certain part of my body. When I left, some of those superficialities moved back in, but not fully. Over time of course they did and my stress returned; the anxiety, the "woulda shoulda's," and the expectations put upon me by persons in my life.

I've always had an interest in the martial arts, both for the practicality of it and for the fitness of mind and body. However, I never pursued it. I never chose to study formally under any school or teacher, only picking up pieces gleaned through curiousity. More so recently, that curiousity is stronger, but not for the reasons I would have thought. I certainly first liked the thought of being able to defend myself and improve my skill set in dealing with the people I deal with on a day to day basis. You could call it the physical aspect of the arts. There are technical skills which can be learned, practiced over and over and put into play at very critical moments in order to ensure the safety of yourself or others. Now I find myself much more interested in the mental aspect of them. Someone that I know very little about, but always had an interest in and who seems to embody what I'm thinking of is Bruce Lee.

Despite his fame, I say despite because so often fame dilutes what wisdom could be gained from someone. He was known for his technical ability and unquenchable curiousity about fighting and more specifically, winning. However, I came across some sayings and quotes of his that I do draw inspiration from. Wisdom that is not really about fighting at all, simply about living and being happy.

"Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves. "



This is actually a quote by William Channing, but for some reason I stumbled acrossed it as being connected to Bruce Lee and it pretty much sums it up.

"To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common -- this is my symphony."

Warning Shot

My personal health has been an issue which I pay a great deal more attention to now than I ever used to in the past. Being naturally lean allowed me a lot of leeway in eating habits and in my self-assured sense of invulnerability drinking were things I was sure I could adapt to. Since last March, more than ever before, I finally got the message that I should slow down, pay more attention, and care just a bit more. Without really being able to pin-point a single cause, that last trip into the hospital was enough for me to decide to redesign how I approach my health. I write this today, because it was roughly 10 months ago that I had an "episode" and yesterday I had another, though it passed seemingly like a warning shot that I was getting reckless. I know that I've made some good progress, but being reminded for the need of consistency is a lump in my throat that I still have to learn to swallow.

There are several things I've changed that I can actually write down as "progress." I still don't know what sort of specific behavior causes an "episode," but all of these things are helpful for my overall future.
-Quit smoking completely (Celebratory is the only exception, once every two months)
-Serious workout plan, 3-4 times a week(I've gained ten pounds of muscle and can run a decent mile)
-I eat small meals every 2-3 hours throughout the day (Mostly whole foods, no frozen or bagged junk from the store. This used to be harder to do at work, but now that I'm on steady midnights, it's easier.)
-I take a Vitamin D 1000 U and Fish Oil 1200mg supplement once a day.
-I limit my caffeine intake (Very hard because of midnight shifts, but only a few cups of coffee a night at most and no energy drinks anymore)
-I structure my sleeping more (Again, difficult because of midnights, but I can put on a sleep mask, take two benedryl and usually get a solid 7-8 hours.)
-Drinking is only a social thing and happens maybe twice a month. I avoid hard alcohol and only have 3-4 beers or 2-3 glasses of wine.

There is actually very little extra time investment to accomplish any of this, except for the workout portion. I've found as life gets busy that is the first thing that I will begin to neglect, but I've been able to pick it back up steady after things settle down. Working overtime shifts is particularly hard on all of these things. Sleep is neglected, I don't pack enough food, I rely on caffeine more, and I don't make it to the gym. However, I usually have control over when and where I take overtime so I can plan ahead and mitigate some of these consequences.

So basically I'm pissed at myself for getting sick again, but I recognize the importance of being reminded and I get another start to improve even more.