Life in a Hurricane.

Today was filled with the building winds of change. That gathering storm.

All at once, I am planning on a new job, a new career. Getting things in order. Forms and documents, now to a point that only a DNA sample is missing from what they need to know from me.

At the same time, I am researching properties to rent, 100 miles from here.

I have boxes here. Clutter, and belongings. Never unpacked.

I have furniture sitting at the lake cabin, in the garage, frozen.

I am blasting ahead at warp speed. Trying to control the hurricane.

Life is on fast forward.

Getting ready to say goodbye to the refuge and my photography, at least as it has been, for now.

Getting ready to say goodbye to my father, with whom I have lived now for over a year.

Getting ready.

To say goodbye to all I have known.

My friends.

My family.

Swept up in the storm, the violent winds of change.

I have no other real choice.

And so few see it.

It is overwhelming. Life is moving so fast, I half expect to go back in time.

But that is what my life has been.

Fast, sudden, immense changes.

In order for me to live, survive, have a roof over my head, and a decent commute to work, I need to pull up stakes, and move. Quickly and efficiently.

And in that process, so much gets laid to waste.

I have never gotten anything without losing so much in the process.

This is no different.

But there is no choice here. I either do what I must, or I perish.

What I would give for a helping hand. What I would give, to have a partner by my side, helping me out, and supporting me through this tough time.

But as always.

I go it alone.

As I fear, it will forever be.

Change

In my life, it never seems to come in gentle waves.

No time to adjust gradually, or to ease into something new, or different.

It is always comes at me like a freight train.

Either I leap and hang on and try to get control of it, or I get plowed under.

Just yesterday I found out that I will be working again. Got a job offer.

In a place I've never been. In a big city. A long way from the refuge. A long way from here.

It's fast, it's noisy, it's crowded and congested. The drive to get there is insanely long.

The job itself? High pressure. Results expected, quickly. Lots of learning to do to be able to be an effective consultant for them.

I will go from being home most of the time, and visiting wildlife refuges with my cameras, to a 5 day a week long commute to an intense IT job in a big city. Overnight.

I am sure I will be exhausted every night.

But this is not something that is an option. I needed this job, desperately. Without income, on unemployment, living with my father, in a house than needs to be sold soon. The pressure and worry of that was bearing down on me.

For 14 months I have been unemployed.

In that time, I have worked on my photography, made many new friends, had hours upon hours out in nature and exploring what I could.

But you can't have a place to live, food on the table, or even a chance at a life, by doing that.

At this point in my life, having undergone so many disastrous events....so many life altering changes. So many huge losses. I don't like sudden change.

It scares the shit out of me. I never know what's coming. And I have to try to adapt, and often, overcome.

This has conditioned me to be so very gun-shy. Instead of excitement over something new and potentially wonderful, I have to fight back the ugly doubts and fears of what could go wrong. How will I do? Will I be up to the task? Will I be miserable? Can I handle this?

I'm all out of choices. No more options. This is the path I must follow.

My world has been rocked so many times, that what my soul craves is peace and calm. A steady stream. A gentle wind.

Now, I must protect that desire and the dream of that life, by taking on a new challenge. I can get to that life, someday. Maybe not all that far down the road.

But I have to gather all my strength, push back all the fear. Work like hell.

And accept,

Change.

How to say this.....

I really don't know.

Today, I drove to Newark, NJ for an interview, for a contract job that might be my ticket out of hell. I did really well. The feedback was very positive. I may have this gig. I will know very soon.

At the same time, I get a message from my daughter that her mother has freaked out. Went into a full blown manic episode. And that my daughter is moving in with a friend for while to get away.

Then, almost immediately, I get a call from my ex. Tear filled and sobbing, she says how sorry she is for what she did to me. How she cannot get over that she was so cruel, so mean.

I try with all I have to chart a new life. And I watch as my children and my ex suffer. And they ache. And they reach out to me, as if I can somehow make it all better.

And I can't.

I have to take care of me. For without that, I cannot be anything to anyone.

It seems to happen like this a lot. I am in the battle of my life, trying to get ahead. Trying to find a way out.

And at that very moment, when I need to be at the top of my game, I am thrown these other challenges. People need me. People want me. People so desperately want my help. My understanding.

And I listen. And I counsel them.

But I make it very plain.

I cannot rescue you.

I cannot save you.

You are the product of the decisions you have made.

And so am I.

But I am trying to reclaim my life.

And that comes before you.

Because you are responsible for your own life.

And although I care. And though you have my love.

You do not have my life.

That is mine.

And mine alone.

You can reach a point...

Where fighting to survive become an effort in futility.

As of today.

I have no income. Other than unemployment insurance, which will run out sooner or later.

I have no home.

I have been out of work for over a year. And every interview I have, every application I submit is met with disinterest.

I have nothing left to stand on.

I will declare this. Loud and clear.

If it is the same by next year, I will no longer be here.

I guess it is time to face facts.

I cannot persist in this battle so that others may gain strength from my fortitude.

I am growing now to no longer care.

I don't care what inspiration you get from me as someone who never quits.

I want peace in my life. I want love. I want some measure of security. I want to be cared for, and cared about.

I want and need help.

And barring that, I will take matters into my own hand.

I have had enough pain.

It has been now, over a decade of loss and of a broken heart.

I do not wish to live this life any longer. I will give it a year.

And that is all.

While the world sleeps

This morning is not unlike so many that I have begun in the past. Up long before the sun, I prepare myself and my camera equipment for the wonders that await in a few hours.

I will again be taking my trusty old pickup truck to the refuge that has become my second home.

But what strikes me the most during these very early hours is how much my soul and my heart are vulnerable.

I walk downstairs in this empty house, to put on a small pot of coffee. The dogs wake as I approach, and look at me as if to wonder why on earth daddy is getting up in the middle of the night.

And it is ghostly quiet.

Outside the windows is the black of night. And nothing stirs. No one is awake. But me.

There is a peace in this solitary life, but a loneliness that is at times overwhelming.

I am the only human being here.

I do not hear the voices of my children. Now grown, they no longer live with me.

I do not hear the voice of my wife, as we have been divorced for years.

I do not hear the voice of my lover, for I have none.

I do not hear the voice of my father, as he lives with his girlfriend.

I do not hear the voice of my mother, nor will I ever again.

In my head and in my heart, she does still speak to me. She used to live here. And in some ways, she still does.

I can gaze at her photo on the mantle. And still see her smile, and imagine her voice, and her laugh, and our wonderful conversations. The silly puns she used to love to sling, and we'd go back and forth and chuckle over how bad they were, between us.

She was the one who inspired my love of nature, and why I am up at this ungodly hour.

But this life is one of stark and often brutal silence.

I am glad she still speaks to me. Because at times, she is the only company I ever have.

While the world sleeps, I arise to see what I can capture with my cameras.

And I weep.

People have advised me...

Not to share my heart.

Employers might find this blog and run away in fear, because I am so emotional and "unbalanced".

Fuck them.

I will share what I feel tonight.

My mom. How I miss her so. The only person to stand by me no matter what. She understood me. She cared as nobody else ever has. Right now, she and I could have a conversation, where we both understood where we are, and why we are, and what we feel, and what we hoped, and what we dreamed.

I am surrounded by some well meaning friends. They want to help me, by chastising. By admonishing. Telling me to "just get over it". To "move on". To not allow the past to bring me down.

It must be great to sit on that lofty perch, with your life going great guns. With you having a great job, a loving boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife. Money in the bank. A nice, comfy home. Makes it easy to look down at the downtrodden and tell them to just get over it. To just pull themselves up from the abyss, and make a new life.

Never having had to do that themselves, they speak with such authority.

The clueless.

They find their inner arrogance and declare that since their lives are working and that they have it all going on, that I simply need to do the same.

After all. Follow their example. If they can do it, anyone can. Right?

I want, fervently.

For those who have it all.

To lose it all.

I want to stand in front of them, toe to toe, once they have lived this life, and stood in these shoes, to look me in the eye.

And then preach to me.

Go ahead. Tell me.

Try.

When you finally reach hell, you will understand.

It is not that I don't want a better life. It is not that I don't try.

But you have no concept. No frame of reference.

But I can bring you here. So that you can see.

Let me take all you have. Everything.

Let me strip your life of everything you held dear.

Then stand in front of me and tell me to suck it up.

Oh, you can't?

That is because you are on your knees.

Once you can stand, then you can talk to me.

Not before.

I no longer celebrate holidays.

Holidays.

To me they are dead.

Christmas.

Easter.

Valentines Day.

They lost their meaning over the last few years. When I came to the realization that people's expectations of the meaning of these days far exceeded their importance.

To me, I try to celebrate every day I breathe.

That means I have a chance to see something beautiful and amazing, especially if I get out with my cameras.

It means I may get a chance to talk to a good friend and just share some laughs.

Or some tears.

And in the daily living. The humanity. The life we lead.

There is cause for celebration.

Of just our life and existence. Of the beauty and wonder of nature.

We don't need a day on a calendar to tell us it is time to celebrate something.

And I reject them all. Because they are all artificial. And to me, they represent dreams and expectations that crashed and burned like a train wreck.

Who needs them?

Not me.

I plan on celebrating the small things in life. The friendships I have. The smiles. The laughs. The hugs. The good times. And the sad times that we share that bring us closer.

Because even in the worst of times, the bonds of friendship are something to cherish and celebrate.

I will never be anyone's valentine.

I will not celebrate the birth or resurrection of the savior. But I do love Jesus for the man he was, and what he showed us.

I will not welcome "Santa Claus" to my house.

I will not stand up and salute the flag on Independence day, though I do cherish those who sacrificed for us.

I will not swill beer and party on a day off, in celebration of some date on a calendar.

I will however celebrate this life, and the people in it, and the glory of nature.

Because that. And they. Are all that matter.

Live

Wake up. Day calls you
to your life: your duty.
And to live, nothing more.
Root it out of the glum
night and the darkness
that covered your body
for which light waited
on tiptoe in the dawn.
Stand up, affirm the straight
simple will to be
a pure slender virgin.
Test your body's metal.
Cold, heat? Your blood
will tell against the snow,
or behind the window.
The colour
in your cheeks will tell.
And look at people. Rest
doing no more than adding
your perfection to another
day. Your task
is to carry your life high,
and play with it, hurl it
like a voice to the clouds
so it may retrieve the light
already gone from us.
That is your fate: to live.
Do nothing.
Your work is you, nothing more.

What it means to survive.

My family seems to have a hard time with this concept.

I am seeing very clearly, that they have no frame of reference. No comprehension at all. Clueless.

Totally clueless in fact.

I won't belabor the point any more.

I have to make this very clear.

I aim to survive.

And that means, I will do what I have to.

And YOUR needs will come a distant second. A very distant second.

I once had this very optimistic perception that the people who are your flesh and blood would be the ones to stand by you and help you through hard times.

What I have come to learn is that when the shit really gets bad, they all hope that they don't have to deal with it at all.

I've learned to not trust or count on employers, coworkers, and at times, people who claim to be friends. And now I have learned not to trust or count on family.

Because all they want is for the discomfort of having me here with my issues to go away, so they don't have to deal with it.

Well, I will make it simple for all of you.

Read my fucking lips.

You don't have to worry about me, or how I will impact your lives, or your finances, or your vacation plans.

I will take care of myself.

In exchange for living here with my father, and him having to spend a lot of money to help me, what I get is guilt. Doom and gloom. Foreboding. I am made to feel like a lesser person. Not someone who is respected or cared for, but more of a nuisance, and a drain on their lives.

So, what is the most important thing in your life?

Your flesh and blood?

Your children?

Oh no. Not really. What is most important to people is themselves.

I have taken more hits, and more unfair treatment, and more losses than almost anyone I ever knew. Yet I keep trying. I keep looking for work. I keep trying to break into photography and sell what I can where I can. I keep pushing. I keep hope alive.

And all they can talk of is their situation, their life, how things impact them. Lay on the guilt. Lay on the fact that my situation really impacts them.

Well you know what?

Live a year in my fucking shoes.

I am SO angry.

Everyone has relied on me for decades. And now, I cannot help those people. I cannot give the money. I cannot make it all better. I cannot provide for my kids and my ex wife. I cannot give money to my father to help him.

Because I am fucking DYING here.

And all you do is worry about yourselves. Your life. Your future.

So, you know what?

I am worrying about mine.

You have no idea what I have lived.

And you should fucking pray on your knees that you never have to.