143 Days

Sold a house. Bought a house. Moved from the end of the world to the center of the world. Took 2 and 1/2 months off from work. Got a job. Quit that job 30 days later.

My grandson was born.

This series of events essentially began on October 31, 2023 and culminated in divine deliverance on March 22, 2024.

143 days. 

Holy shit. I would be hard pressed to identify a more intense emotional roller coaster than these 143 days in any other period of my life. And I have been around for a hundred years.

2/12/1978. 5/03/1980. 10/23/1983. Those were emotional explosions, massive shifts in my life that created ripple effects that will last for the rest of my life. Happiness extraordinaire.

But shit, man - I flew close to the sun for 143 straight days. A little bit of bad mixed in there, some fucked up stuff, but mostly good, good stuff. And the beeswax in my wings has not melted.

How does one compare? You don't.  HST said: "No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride............and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well... maybe chalk it up to forced consciousness expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten."

In the space that I occupy right now, "get beaten" does not apply. I have been beaten - many, many times in my life. But the beatings were self-orchestrated.

I bought the ticket - despite the fact that I did not believe in marriage, or kids, or fucking jobs - in anything predictable, anything expected or "normal", anything that could impose obligations on me, anything that could distract me from fully realizing the potential that my soul made available to me. Anything that remotely resembled the life my parents lived. 

And I ended up with an amazing wife, who I worship, two sons, who I worship, a grandson who I worship - Jesus fucking Christ - I ended up with human beings in my life who I would die for. That's how much I love them.

So I took the ride. The destination was improbable but glorious.

Now I am experiencing forced consciousness expansion. At the age of 70.

I sold a house I considered a piece of shit. And made out like a fucking bandit. That opened my eyes.

You know the rest of the story. I went on a happiness jag for a while there and you were forced to read about it. Or not, depending on your level of interest.

Other than my grandson being born - which is a high I will ride for the rest of my life - things have evened out, things have settled down a bit. Still, the newness of it all is exquisite.

I am in a new place. I am thinking new thoughts. Even since 10/31/23 I have learned stuff.

I feel different inside but I can't explain it to you.

It doesn't matter. All that matters is the road ahead.

All I need now is a little bit of luck, a few more years of life than maybe I deserve, to smooth things out for me and everyone I love.