“It sounds like rehab.”
I have mastered the skill of parallel parking. Ok, maybe not mastered, but I have become very good.
This is my third lap. Do I need to go another block over? Will someone leave? Why are so many people driving? I wonder what’s for dinner this evening?
So, it has been over a month. I have not entered anything in a while. I recently spent time looking through whatever it is that I am creating here and it is pretty amazing. I can chart through each post that I have entered. I can tell you where I was sitting when I wrote it. How I was feeling. What was happening in my life? What I was pretending that wasn’t happening in my life? And most importantly, how confident I was during each of the episodes that I documented.
An addiction is something that takes over your life. My problem is I have too many of these addictions to count. An addiction to writing. An addiction to attention. An addiction to free thought. An addiction to music, literature, film, chess and hoppy beer. These addictions are no different then an addiction to something more menacing like crack or television.
There is an addiction that is one that sometimes overwhelms my mind to the root and causes a complete shut down of the soul; that would be pity.
I lay in my room and wonder where it all changed. When did it go from this point to that next one? When was my existence in Austin no longer a vacation but transitioned into the toughest struggle yet? What was my next move and would it be the right one? Do I jump into the job force and go for the white picket fence or do I run back into school to continue to be sheltered in the bubble that is higher education? Have I succeeded in Austin or have I created a disaster? The clanging of harmonic triangle and a lone piece of a drum set indicate one thing in these parts, it’s dinnertime.
Everything we do is done for a reason. This reason makes the most perfect and logical sense at the time. There is nothing that is done without the person executing the action having the most utmost confidence in the success of the ideology. For, if the person attempting something has little faith in the overall success of the task at hand, it has imploded prior to it even has started.
It looks like a Cinnabun, yet tastes like fried chicken. Oh, the glories of tofu. My diet has made a very drastic shift over the past three weeks. My old dinners of hot pockets and a bag of chips have been phased out in order to bring in fresh vegetables and the wonderful world of tofu. The reason for this shift is new surroundings in which I find myself.
I am one of the newest members to a Cooperative Housing organization in Austin. It is known as Whitehall International Society. It is a multi-generational, vegetarian community. It has saved my mind. It is like rehab.
The people that are my new roommates are the outcasts. A house made up of misfits on the fringe of society. There is no television or meat. There is no negativity or judgment. It is a completely unplugged portion of society in which you are allowed to follow your folly.
I am an individual writer. I live inside of my head with conversations in which are not real nor can anyone hear them. I led a life in which I tried to limit that voice and stifle it to the expectations of the society I was conditioned to fear.
These expectations and this sense of need to be accepted was created internally as there is nothing expected from us in this life other than our own independence. Granted, this is from the viewpoint of a member of the privileged class within a country of independent followers.
At some point everyone has approached the end of the road. The road that has led them the life they have imagined or the life that they have followed. We have followed those before with the anticipation of things getting better or we have blazed our own track while re-writing the rules that generations will follow.
It is always easier to follow those that have come before rather than challenge. Go across the board over your existence and each watershed moment will have formed because you trusted your mind rather than bow to the fear created by the doubt created within your conscious.
I moved to Austin from Phoenix without the inkling of anything negative happening. Looking back a few short months, I am in awe of my courage and my irrational behavior. The greatest moments are those in which no one believes in you but yourself. For, the life you are carving out is not meant for spectacle or up for interpretation for anyone that is outside of your mind. Deep down there is a feeling that develops when you follow your heart and when that happens an apology is never the end result.
Moments come and go. Each of these moments are life changing and altering. Within each contain the decision is yours to embrace or deflect. It is completely within your own power to follow the passion and limit the noise.
Whitehall is rehab for the soul. It is a commune of people piecing together the passions within their heart to lead the life we have imagined. We are artists and writers. We are lawyers and teachers. We are scientists and humanitarians. Each day we wake up to the support of those around in order to act in the manner that we have dreamed. Today I am a writer again. Today is a good day. My soul is thieving again. Watch out doubters, it is time for the Phoenix to rise onward to the next challenge.
“”It is like rehab. It is something that comes after the storm has hit and you are at the bottom. The most important action is that first step.”
Moral: When in Austin come visit us at Whitehall. It’s been too long since I have tossed up some words and the downfall of ramblings will be flowing in abundance. Love yourself today, as tomorrow will be too late.
