I fell in love

This winter I fell in love with a nerdy librarian.  Of course, I am referring to my new city of choice St Louis.  When I came all she wanted to do was discuss the cold world of Pre-revolutionary Russian literature.  For weeks and months the cold bound her tightly in layers snow and rain.  Luckily for me, I like Russian literature.  I didn't get frightened off by the introduction of new characters or unfamiliar story lines.  I stuck with her because she began to accept me.  But lately she has begun to let her hair down and take off her glasses.  The spring growth is mind blowing.  It  reaffirms my new found love for this city.  The occasional cold wind or uncomfortable conversation doesn't cause that love to wain but rather increases my curiosity about this place.  As I explore more and more of the city and get more comfortable with the people I meet, I know that this is the right place for me right now.  In true 80's movie fashion, she is a full on foxx.

Trying to find beauty

I enjoy finding the beauty in everything I do.  I don't remember if this is something that I have always done.  I know that since my AT solo hike it has been a big part of my life.  I have no idea why I try search out beauty.  But no matter where I am, I am constantly on the prowl for the killer view.  I try to stop and enjoy them even if it's just for a minute or even a few seconds.  If I can just let off the gas for a few seconds I can soak in the scene.

 I cannot reproduce these scenes in any meaningful way.  I cannot really find a way to share them with anyone other than myself.  I have tried painting, that didn't work out well trust me.  I take pictures, but that doesn't do the scene justice.  I tried poetry.  That got good reviews at my poetry reading, but it still pales in comparison to the grandness of the world.

Wandering through the city has given me a whole new setting to try to soak beauty from.  It doesn't matter to me whether I am in the city, the middle of nowhere or in a hospital.  I see the wonderful combination of light and shape as a living work of art.

The Burial Vault

As the sun begins to beat

Through the canopy of the forest

The warm, moist earth begins

To release the fragrance of decay.

The leaves and trees and insects and animals

All feed upon on another.

All rot into the ground, all are joined as one.

Are we not part of that "one?"

Why have we decided

To place ourselves in a concrete box?

Because we have removed ourselves from nature.

We no longer see ourselves as products of this world

But producers of things from this world

We have allowed ourselves to be separated

From the cycle of life and decay. Why?

It reminds us that we will rot,

we will become food.

Don't place me in that concrete box!

Let my body nourish all those

Forests that have nourished me

Let my rot bring new life

Let the smell of my decay have a purpose

Let me join myself to nature

One last and lasting time!

The fun house mirror

One of the things that all of the upheaval in my life has done is make me wonder who I am.  I have always thought of myself in one way.  When I look in the mirror I still see the 26 yr old Seth.  I see a young, attractive, outgoing, gregarious, friendly person that can make friends any where and feel comfortable in any setting.  When I moved into an entirely new set of surroundings I took this view of myself with me.  I am realizing that I am an older, less outgoing, even shy introvert that is having a hard time fitting in in my new locale.  I had started being able to talk to random people in relatively quiet settings.  Some had even started calling me by name, but I found that I could only strike up a conversation after a couple of beers to loosen me up.
I guess this whole "questioning myself" was brought forth on Wed.  Wed was May Day, or International Worker's Day.  I heard on the radio about a picnic in my park on Wed afternoon.  I walked down there after work.  When I got there, the cops were there with video cameras and still-frame cameras taking pictures of the people that were there.  It was mostly a bunch of hippies that were laying in the grass or talking at picnic tables.  When I showed up the tension was already pretty high.  I started talking to one guy that didn't really want anything to do with me.  I knew that I didn't really look like anyone there, and I had made a mistake in wearing a MO Beef Council race t-shirt (don't advertise beef in a group of vegans).  The leader eventually came over and began asking where I was from, where I had heard about it and stuff like that.  That is when I realized they thought I was a cop.  So now, not only are the cops taking my picture, but the group I tried to go hang out with was too.  I was there for a while, but felt really out of place.  Eventually, I had enough.  I went and shook the hand of the guy that came over and talked to me and told him that I didn't really fit in just left.  As I was walking back to my apartment I really began to struggle with who I thought I was.  The only friends that I have are out in the burbs.  They don't think like me.  They don't act like me.  They don't eat like me, but they don't care.  I love city life, but I'm pretty sure most of the people on my block think I'm a cop, too.
Maybe, I have been part of a family for so long that, when that is gone, it can really mess with one's own identity.  For 15 yrs I have identified myself by who I was with.  For 8 yrs I have identified myself as a dad and husband.  I am still a dad, but for 5 days a week I am just me.  Being me at times can be scary.  Not because I am manic or depressive, but because it is a struggle trying to figure that guy out.  In all of my new pursuits this week, I just kept feeling more outside.  I struggled to try to connect.  I kept seeing flaws and things I didn't like in everyone around me.  Am I going to be the crazy guy rocking in his chair while he scribbles poetry down?  Am I the crazy lady that gesticulates wildly while reading a work that is a random selection of words crammed onto an index card?  Am I going to be the crazy religious people loudly proseltyzing any non-believers or "sinful" people?  Am I going to want more and more crap and space even though I have no need for it?  Am I going to let myself fall back into a consumerists mindset? (that is if I ever even got out) But I figure that if I keep thinking that everyone around me is crazy, maybe it's not everyone around me.  Maybe it's me.  I just want to find peace and happiness again.  I want to feel comfortable and relaxed and joyful.
I guess I have no choice but to keep doing what I am doing.  Trying new things and not giving up when I feel discouraged.  Other than the socialist picnics, I am going to poetry on Wed, Help the Homeless on Thurs and going to free shows.  I feel like I have lost sight of my inner self temporarily.  But if I just keep trying, it will emerge eventually.  I am 37.  I am divorced.  I am a father to 2 wonderful kids.  I am living in neighborhood that I love.  I am a RUS.  I am figuring out the rest.  Anything worth having comes with effort. That includes me.  One bad day or week isn't the end.  It will pass.  Everything passes.

"death is not happening" - some Tibetan monk