Ten Ten

How many new beginnings can one have? How many times can you start over?

Not often enough, apparently. It’s time for a new one.

I looked at the date of the last post as I started this.  A year and a day. Reminiscent of the journals I occasionally find tucked away on my shelves.  A few pages here and there. Years apart. All beginning with a desire to change. And now I’m so predictable, or in such a rut, that I get an urge to start a new thing on Lennon’s birthday.  Not a bad thing. Starting over. But a rut.

A few days ago, an old friend, the woman who had given me my first design job, sent me a YouTube video of a lecture. A famous graphic designer was discussing how he had taken a year off.  After seven straight years of work, designing for major clients, doing major projects, he took off a year.  To refresh. To recharge. To become inspired again. To see life. Something new. It worked for him. He came back and brought his new inspiration and fresh outlook into his work.  The one concrete note I took while watching this video was a book title –  “Stumbling on Happiness” by Daniel Gilbert.  Happiness… I think the guy had discovered that he was missing happiness.  If that wasn’t his messge, I twisted what he was saying into that. That was the the thing I needed to realize. I am missing happiness.  I don’t think I will find it in a book. But for me, just reaching out for that book, recognizing a void, is a start. I took a two week vacation last November.  It was my first real vacation since 1996 or 98.

Charlotte has just come back from a week or so of workshops and classes and exercise and healthy eating.  A new beginning for her. Weighing the choices available to her. Looking to take control and live her life the way she wants.  Another old friend, another book, has returned. The Artist’s Way. Charlotte has begun the exercises in the book. And I remember how many years ago when I went through it, I almost said religiously, but I did commit to doing it for twelve straight weeks…  (period, parentheses, semi colon, at least? to hell with it. there is no punctuation in memory) anyway.  the artist’s way was a tool. a way to focus. a way to find things i enjoy. i recently had a birthday. when the cake was brought out, the single candle lit, in my face, waiting for me to blow it out, with calls of “make a wish” from my friends, with that flame in front of me, I stared.  and started to panic.  i had no wish. even getting laid seemed like a tired request of the god/pimp of birthday wishes.  i had no wish.  no desires. no clue as to what i wanted to do, or what i would do if i could do anything. can you see where i need some help?

so. stuck in a rut. and i intend to get out of it.  i’m going to read the happiness book, on paper, no kindle.  i’m going to get a fresh copy of the A Way (i gave my last copy to a waitress/writer). and i’m going to start over. don’t expect brown rice and yoga.  but don’t be surprised.  stuck in a rut of new beginnings.

btw. you may remember the Unclean version of SOB on iguanaking.com? well, somehow i let that domain name lapse. i think the contact email was a pacbell.net address, or maybe even worldnet.att.net (back when email was carried by pterodactyls) .  bottom line, i can’t access the site.  the people at webmasters.com have offered to sell me back the domain name for $150. instead of letting me renew for $9.95.  don’t they understand i have 50 domain names registered with them?  and i have at least 10-15 websites hosted there?  they’re going to lose that business for the sake of $150?  i’m going to call.  i’m going to do the grown-up thing and give them a chance.  i have been emailing and got the robot response.  a section of the contract.  one of those things i didn’t read and hit “I Agree.”  come back to bite me in the ass.  but i have big teeth, too.  we’ll see.

sonofabitch

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