Sometimes a blogger has to bite his tongue. Other times he must nearly chew it in two and swallow his own foul tasting blood in order to avoid the escalation of absurd "rhetoric." And every once in a while, his thin, age spotted skin gets the best of him and it goes something like this.
Maybe I don't get it. Maybe I'm wrong. But I think a blogger should be able to speak his mind; the essays and photos should reflect want the author wants reflected... within reason. My blog is a Journal and Photos of a Wanderer; it says so right at the top of my home page. Key word? "Journal." Welcome to my Diary Of A Mad Boondocker. It's free. You don't have to click anything to put money in my pocket (anymore, anyway), and thus it's worth not one red cent less than what you pay for it... and sometimes, not one cent more.
Turn the pages of my Journal and I will take you somewhere. I'll show you what it looks like... tell you about how it inspires me to imagine and how that feels. An active/traveling/RV/outdoor life... along with birthdays... changes a guy. I hope to never cease changing because I get bored with my same ole' self pretty darn quick. Once in a while the shoes of my work-in-progress outlook utters a point of view that doesn't fit others feet... they find fault with my shoes. That's ok, maybe they're ahead of me on the "Journey." What do I know.
I often emote in my "Journal," as best I know how, the internal dialogue that plays in my atrophying brain, all the while going about the business of putting one shoe in front of the other in the direction I sense will get me where I need to be in this confounded world. Dumb as I am, I have learned a few things... and one of the toughest pills to swallow was/is that where I think I "want" to be... is not always where I "belong," at least not yet, anyway. If patience is a virtue, I'm a lock for Heaven.
I was brought up by intelligent, hard working, middle class, bluest of collar parents. They taught their children well, that "tomorrows" won't always take care of themselves if you don't take care of "todays." You can apply their philosophy to the entirety of "kit" and "caboodle;" health, wealth, finances, retirement, dreams, relationships, goals... even weight loss. The fences that temporarily separate me from some of my dreams I for now must straddle.
Maybe I'm different. If it's true, I know there is someone else out there who is similarly different (oxymoron intended). If I feel a certain way about something there's bound to be someone else out there who aligns with my perspective. We are bound to be in the minority and thus become fast friends. I'm told there is no such thing as a dumb question. I would add to that, "nor a dumb feeling." Hell, remember what fools young Love made of us as we rushed in? But love is not dumb... nearsighted maybe, but not dumb. I can't help how I feel. I would need a brand new pair of genes in order to change who I am.
Alas, I'm beating around the bush... biting my tongue in two.
Am I the only one who ever questioned the efficacy of a Full Time RV Life? Am I the only guy who after a year on the road wondered, "Is this all there is?" Am I the only one who felt something was missing... the only one who wanted more... the only one who dared question choices made... the only one who needed to embark on a new dream since the old one was realized... the only one who "needed input," more than plopping my ass in a lonely, disconnected "wide-body" lawn chair way out in the land of all-by-myself? Don't some of us need a little "contact?" Is that so blatantly offensive and/or ungrateful or difficult to grasp? I know well the tree from which my acorns fall, so taking care of my todays... in spite of the overwhelming impulse to jump, is not necessarily cowardly. Don't tell me to risk my tomorrows with you and I won't ask you to risk your life with me, running airy ridge lines and ascending peaks that gnarl insides into knots.
To each their own path. I'll follow my dreams my way, you follow yours. Guess what? We'll both get there. I'll continue to question everything and anything on the pages of this blog... including God and myself. I'll question ruts and status quo... for change is the greatest impetus to growth. I'll even question my own choices.
But I am my father's son; his example spoke louder than words. Here's a little "fridge material" that echoes between my ears.
Listen, if you want to be heard. Be passionate, but have compassion. Be brave, without bravado. Find a bit of light in failure's darkness. And seek little joys hidden in every sadness... even death. If this makes no sense or offends, I apologize... it makes sense to me.
Time to cool down with a slide show of our hike up Bear Creek to Yellow Jacket Mine...
What an awesome looking old mine and a sort of scary looking trail.
ReplyDeleteBlogs are for us to speak our minds. Nothing wrong with that. And sometimes we change our minds. Hey, why not.
Please keep on sharing.
I love todays photography (8th one down is a favorite!) and also agree with the thoughts! You've expressed them perfectly!
ReplyDeleteI'm not whining here, but my blog is currently closed because I expressed my thoughts about someone's hurtful actions to a friend without mentioning names. I was called out by name and the results were bad at my blog. My mistake! When my blog comes back, it will be about me and not the thoughts and feelings of the other folk!
Good for you for knowing where you stand ~ but be careful up there!!!
Oh ya baby...there goes ROOT- NYE- COULTER.
ReplyDeleteAnd it just wasn't " RUCHSS" that blew them away in TSSERT.
NO SIR!
T'was NNUTSTA and your PED QUEEN!
And RETTEDE did VONTSE, with them!
OOFDAT- DACCEPT- DATESSA!
It was a TESEURO and now it's a movie called :
" KANSAS KINGS".
It's going to CANNES!
YESSA! YESSA! YESSA!
Always enjoy your photos, and your perspective on things is honestly yours. Thanks for sharing. You might consider deleting "anonymous" comments.
ReplyDeleteI hope you will accept my apology.
ReplyDeleteI fear what was taken from my words was not what I had intended to convey.
Enduring those same self directed questions, and reaching for a way to deal with 'em I sought only to relay how I deal with them.
Obviously, my effort was faulty. I put into my words, a meaning to be read, which had not been my intention.
I regret that I spoke in a way that produced anger and hurt. That was not my intention. My intention was to say; Though MY habitual nature is self doubt and to see half empty, I must force myself to see the Fullness that is truly there. That much of what I seek is really there, that I just have to recognize it.
I apologize for saying that in a manner that came across as meanness, arrogance or hurtful in any way. To put down, insult or criticize was not in my thoughts.
I can only accept that I must look at my words more carefully. I must find the unintended meanings hidden there, in plain sight, that I have written. So that I can cull out the perceptions that can be taken from my words, that are Not my intention.
I continue to learn... if slowly.
Brian,
ReplyDeleteI always accept apologies because inevitably I will need forgiveness :))
Not sure there was a need to "Man Up," it was just a little tit for tat, but it's honorable that you chose to. So forget about it... forgotten is forgiven.
Gaelyn,
Awesome mine, indeed. I'll post a video of that hike soon. Thanks for your thoughts.
Meowmomma,
Thanks for your kind words. Get that blog going again :))
Anon.
Your comment suggests my "Spam Catcher" must be broken.
Russ,
Thanks for commenting. My photos generally upstage my perspective. I'm on "safer ground" when it's just my camera doing the talking.
mark
I'm not sure what inspired you to write what you wrote but I feel like you were writing for me today. And you don't even know me.. ha!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the insights and keep on being you :)
Hi Maria,
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting. I guess you could say I had a little bur under my saddle. It's gone now, but I appreciate that you somehow identified.
mark
I love it when people are honest and say what they mean. My feelings might get hurt, but I still appreciate honesty. You sound like an honest man.
ReplyDeleteMy grandfather was a carpenter, and also my father in his youth. When we'd drive to Big Basin or Yosemite on camping vacations every year, we'd pass structures like the ones in your photos. My Dad would always point them out and say, "That's a house Grandpa and I built." Funny vacation joke every year. When I see old, falling down buildings, I always think of those rides to the campgrounds.
Me and My Dog,
ReplyDeleteNice reflections on growing up in a camping family. And I appreciate your sense that I am an "honest man." It is a great compliment... hopefully my epitaph.
Thanks.
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