They trust me. I had an idea of what it would be like and ideas of what to do. And I knew it would be fun. But I had no idea it would be like this. I could do this forever. They all want data and I just feed them data. And the more they ask the more I have for the next person. This is going to be something big and beautiful. And I can employ a lot of people. A lot of people are going to be very happy. Making lives easier.
23 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, 24 since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. 25 Anyone who does wrong will be repaid for their wrongs, and there is no favoritism.
Something recently reminded me of the benefit of flowing types of physical movements and practices. I don’t realize it but I get triggered into all sorts of tension both physical and mental, and it’s this sort of snowball effect. The wonder of it all is there have been massive developments in PTSD and trauma release therapies lately. The easiest of course is mindful breathing and muscle tensing and relaxing. It works good. I have been doing others in therapy. It’s hard to remember and reminders are very appreciated. Talk and soothing talk can only go so far, the body needs different tools to keep the process of peace going. I feel strange saying that I have PTSD, I feel I don’t deserve validation for that because I haven’t been in physical combat, however I want to do my best to make peace with others and that necessitates acknowledging reality. I carry trauma and I need to process it. And it’s easy to do as long as I maintain it, and remember that I need a lot of processing constantly in that area.
It is! It’s bizarre. They’re all ripping you off. How do you stay ahead? I always want to be different. I can’t stand following. It’s not in my nature. I feel that society expects something from me and I don’t fit. I am starting to understand what they are expecting and why, and it makes sense. But everyone assumes everyone is coming from a position of selfishness. I am an engineer. I am coming from a position of, this doesn’t have to be as hard as it is, let’s make this easier. Maybe it’s a metaphor for something. I wonder if everyone will eventually realize, it isn’t a big deal. We can get through it. And it starts with cleaning the blinds.
A Mediterranean type. The cold air kept the sky clear, and the sun brightened it all up. I sat, my legs soaking up the cool from the metal chair beneath me, staring at nothing. I could already see it. I already felt like I was living in a boat. My houses main area was a skinny long corridor, just about as long and as wide at the widest part as a large boat would be. I had packed all my belongings in that area to see how it would be. And it was quite nice. There’s something about looking forwards and seeing everything you own. It’s manageable. And it gives a strong sense of oversight. The Wonder of a boat is, it gets you that closer to the water. There was one logistical problem. Where does the bike, surfboard, skis, and golf clubs go? There was room in the bow. But it would be hard to fit them all in there. Everything else would tuck neatly away in compartments.
It was amazing. I was at cowells. And a big wave came in. I was 12. I was on some sort of a longboard. I did what my friend Alex told me to do, just turn around and let it take you in. It’s hard to trust. It seems big and ferocious. But sure enough, it just kind of picks you up and takes you in. When it first hits it’s a little turbulent. And you accelerate really fast. The waves are doing about 30 mph, depending on swell period. So it is pretty abrupt. And sometimes the white water will pick you up and slam you down pretty hard, but if you lay back you always balance out and swish swiftly into shore. I remember it every time I catch white water. I love it. It’s amazing. I almost like it more than standing up on waves. Sean and I used to talk for hours about how much we loved waves.
Couldn’t they have come up with a more sophisticated name? Wipers? I mean, yes, they do wipe. But wipers? Is that even a word?
It’s like the starter. It starts the motor. Or the computer. The computer. It computes. That’s what they used to do. It was this big round machine thing that could compute numbers. Or the laptop. It goes on top of your lap. These are the most sophisticated machines ever created, but the names, oh the names.
At least with telephone, they actually got out their Latin books.
Automobile. Car. Car is actually a real proper noun. Bicycle. Airplane. That ones ok. Boat. Proper noun. Television. Possibly the best.
Copier? Drywall? Sawzall? We live in a dumb world.
Not sailors though. Mooring. Line. Halyard. Grommet. Shackle. Transom. These are good names.
I’m just trying to think of other names that have a good ring to them.
I waited four years to give her money for windshield wipers. Something told me to wait four years. I thought it would really show her that I cared, in a special way, to remind her before winter to refresh her windshield wipers. But I waited four years. Then one month. Then one week. Then one day. Then 15 minutes. Then one minute. Whatever told me to send her money that exact moment, I don’t know. But according to her, it was an exact moment of meaning for her.
The only reason I did send it was that the sheriff somehow hadn’t been able to find me at my house for an entire week. Had they been able to, I wouldn’t dare have left her more voicemails, or any money for any windshield wipers.
It’s just funny. All the little things hat must have happened throughout the entire world for me to find her in the middle of the bridge, at that exact moment, and to send her that money at that exact moment!
Something bigger is going on here. And honestly I think it is the spirit of her dad. That’s what I think.
Well my house now just had some little details to finish. All the flooring is back to original and sanded. 80 grit. 100. 150. It feels so good. I made dock lines for scrambler. I have everything arranged to rent out my house, sell scrambler, and go live on a 42 foot race boat. And all I have to do is say yes.
But it’s scary.
I don’t know what your little head is stuck on. But I think it’s stuck. Or you must be blossoming with material and are lining it all up for the next year. There’s a lot out there. And you have a lot to work with. I really really think you should play on the themes from last year. All of them. Keep weaving them through your campaigns. And, please, please, give us a real view of a real messenger. That would be so cool. What does a messenger do anyway?! And how in earth did that bag transform his life?! I never did get it.
And who sends messages? How do you get one? I want a message.