Proof of Life

I've been waiting to write until I feel my words can be beautiful or bold or at least surprising. I've had myself in handcuffs and internal fisticuffs. My heart never quite thawed this summer, keeping in step with the weather.

I was thrown off course and chose to stay lost, treading water rather than reading the stars.

I don't know why I did this.

But I'm going to start paddling again.

Some bad things happened this summer. I won't elaborate right now. I tried writing about them, and none of it sounded terrible, save the unexpected death of a loved one. I can't seem to write about that.

The summer is gone, and I felt a depression seeping in Sunday night, which could actually be a product of hormones, and which makes me think of my next stage of life, and how I won't miss this at all.

This weekend we tried doing nothing. The weather promised 80% chance of rain, perfect do-nothing weather. It threatened but never pulled the trigger, leaving us in a sort of a cloudy purgatory. The sun peaked out Sunday night, and out of nowhere, I put on my rollerblades and went zipping, and my mood was instantly elevated. It put me in a good frame of mind to gather up the good memories of the summer that never was.

It was a cold summer and mostly rainy. My aunt died in June, and I didn't quite recover. My job took over my life in June, July, and most of August, resulting in cancelled trips and working holidays and weekends. The trees I planted last summer died when the landscaper did a poor job of relocating them. My garden died after I treated with organic pest killer. Then a drug dealer moved in next door along with a dog that he seems to neglect and that barks all night. Calls to the cops, Animal Control, idiotic parties. Last summer I worked so hard to make this place my own, to grow my roots here, and I guess with all these things happening, I felt like I had lost.

I spent time with my aunt before she died. I got to say my goodbyes without using that word. Instead we shared laughter and memories. She asked for Cold Play "Paradise" to be played at her beach side memorial service.

Two trips to Michigan were cancelled due to work, but I finally got up for a weekend in August. I had my nieces spend the night with me at my mom's, and we had a great time. I took my mom out to dinner one night. One day I went to the beach and was eaten by voracious midge flies. And the other day it rained.

We went to a baseball game, a Fever game, a concert, symphony on the prairie (rained out), the state fair, Shades State Park, a long bike ride down the canal tow path and around downtown, a hike in Holliday Park, kayaking the white river, a wedding, and spent some lovely evenings on our respective decks, watching the hummingbirds. I went to a friend's play. I volunteered as a bartender for Longest Dinner for Fringe, and made a couple of new friends, and maybe the got the courage to finish the play I started earlier this year when some people got interested. We went to the Fringe Fest every night (a first), taking in over 25 shows. We had a great time at Fringe, even worked the beer tent. My show went great. But I kept thinking it could be the last one I do, so for that reason we had as much fun as possible. We planned a fall trip to Cape San Blas.

The summer flew by. I had only one of those special "moments," and it truly was just a moment, but it happened in the same spot it happened last year--the place I call Walnut Grove. It was nearly dark, just a few embers in the sky, but the fog came up off the grass and creek, and it totally swallowed me. That was my magical moment, and I can still picture it now.

I think these moments might be fewer and fewer and it might be because I have so many of them. I think that's a good thing. So many peaks.


I think it's important to document life and thoughts like this. To take photographs in your mind as well as your camera.

I think I have the courage to move on.

This was just priming the well.

I apologize to myself for staying under too long.

I also forgive myself.

The first step towards confidence is courage.

I read a really good article about being our awesomest selves.

I woke up Tuesday in pain. Pain in my heart, stomach, and brain. This pain was depression. It was physical.

I realized after reading this article that I have been treating happiness as a reward for achievement. I can be happy all the time for no reason whatsoever.

I'll talk more about this article.

Right now I have some things to do. And I'm pretty happy about that.