plans (to fail)

"Our plans miscarry because they have no aim. When a man does not know what harbor he is making for, no wind is the right wind." - Seneca the Younger

For the last few weeks, I have been reading a book entitled Three Cups of Tea, a true story in which in the depth of failure a mountaineer finds direction. The book is amazing and is the motivation in my participation with the Pennies for Pakistan campaign. I recommend it (both the book and supporting Pennies for Peace).

You would think that the story has been motivation for me to keep a positive perspective. However, this has hardly been the case of late. Bad news seems to drop in threes,

and fours,

and fives.

There are moments in life when a man feels like a complete failure....

And then there are opportunities to rise above.

I sometimes believe that the older I get the fewer options I have. That the doors that have been broken down have been replaced by stronger doors with bigger locks. I'm talking heavy duty doors with heavy duty locks, bullet-proof 'effing deadbolts. Doors can really suck the life out of you.

But the problem isn't the door. It's not a lack of options... it's me.

Ships can be steered to go left or right. However, for this to be accomplished the ship has to be moving forward.

This is where I have been blowing it. Focused on goals, making plans and banging on doors (that were perhaps meant to never open), I've been standing idle, when I should have kept moving.

And all I can do right now is keep moving... there, the option I thought I didn't have.

The plan: a change of plan. After all, if you fail to plan, plan to fail. And, I plan on failing, at least a few more times... but I promise to get back up, dust myself off and keep my feet moving.

The sea calls. The wind is right. It's time for this old man to set sail.

thanks

"You'd better count your blessings." - my mom

"One." - my smart-ass reply (circa 1993)

Seems that I've been letting myself get down over all the things that suck recently. Therefore, I am grateful for the reminder to be grateful this time of the year. Life can be bitter at times, but I am determined to drink deep. To quote one of my most favorite young ladies, "I am scarred, but I am whole" and I have much to be thankful for.

To my queen of silver linings: Despite being miles apart and x days away, I am constantly humbled by your wisdom and grace, you form diamonds under heat and pressure. You amaze me. Thank you.

To my family, friends, fellow pilgrims and pioneers, all the friendly faces, the bumped and bruised: the road would not be the same without you. I am eternally grateful.

To you: You know who you are... Thank you.

Sunshine.

flash

I don't know where this page is taken from, but I love it. It describes my never ending journey perfectly.

My life as flash fiction.

Legend has it, that it all started with a bar bet. Someone challenged Ernest Hemmingway to write a story in one sentence. What resulted are the six words:

"For sale baby shoes never worn."

The challenge continues as a yearly contest, and an everyday reminder to carefully choose my words, to never have to un-ring a bell.

(My favorite submission, also my life in flash, "I like big butts, can't lie.")

lost: the uniform of a midlife crisis

"I would go out tonight, but I haven't got a stitch to wear." - This Charming Man, The Smiths

"You have to hang on in periods when your style isn't popular, because if it's good, it'll come back, and you'll be a recognized beauty one again." - Andy Warhol

"Whoever brought the eighties back is not doing anyone any favors!"

- overheard in an Urban Outfitters dressing room

I have reason to believe that I am currently undergoing a midlife crisis. No, I'm not dating the 19 year old intern, and no convertible sports car (yet). The proof is, as they say, in the pudding. And, the pudding has been slathered all over my current wardrobe.

Exhibit A: The denim.

That's right... not jeans. Denim. And when it comes to my trouser selection, I speak a completely different language. Japanese denim, 2% spandex, super slims with button-fly closure and slight boot cut, in Elephant skin. That is exactly how I like my jeans... uh, I mean my denim.

Translation = tight.

I have to turn down servings of dessert and spend extra hours at the gym to squeeze these puppies on. Okay, I might be exaggerating a little. But the jeans are snug.

Exhibit B: The exhibition of my boobs. Or, as I like to call the look, "The Hoff".

In which my shirts display ample amounts of bosom. Button-ups stop at least three from the top. Even my t-shirt, it's not a v-neck, it's a deep-v. The style says, "Why yes, I have been working out." (Even if you don't ask me verbally, I can see it in your eyes.)

You might not get it... but I hear "The Hoff" is huge in Germany.

The Coup de grâce: White leather Italian Loafers.

Oh yes, the kicks. Perfect for dressing down a three piece suit or dressing up a Saturday afternoon golf ensemble. And man, are they comfy. It's like walking on a cloud, or on the crushed dreams of the broken backed proletariat. If you could eat shoes, this would be my equivalent of a dark chocolate soufflé, and I would weigh at least 350 pounds.

Lately, more and more often, I've been wearing clothes that I swore I would never wear. In other words, I think I've somehow, somewhere lost myself, and it is reflected in my clothing choice.

Or maybe not.

The "I partied my ass off and just woke up," dusty cardigan, wrinkled T, and faded Vans look, will probably come back the next time I party my ass off and just wake up.

Till then, I'll keep you posted on the intern and convertible.

ninety days

"When it is dark enough, you can see the stars." - Persian proverb

"Yeah, you know what this is, it's a celebration, bitches!" - Celebration, Kanye West

Day ninety: feels amazing! A tingly mix between accomplishment and preparedness for the struggle ahead.

to do:

1) Get happy.

Go surfing, running, stretch, draw, paint, read, write, cook, love. Pet dogs, smile at strangers, wish on shooting stars. Breathe! Whatever it takes, no more wallowing, mister!

2) Get to work.

There's a list on the fridge, in your planner, various calendars, stickies everywhere. This list is only the beginning, start crossing stuff off.

3) Get out.

...of the house, be around people, smile. Speak, speak, speak. Quit being weird, it is so very not sexy.

4) Don't panic.

"Don't get overwhelmed." - J^2.

Listen to her. Breathe!

You got this, now go!