The Ghost in my Tree

That little white plastic bag is still in my tree, or at least a small part of it. Today is especially cold and windy, yet it flutters in the wind like it still plans on being visible this Spring. I don't know why I haven't done anything about it, actually I like it a bit. Salem and I laid on our backs a few times while trying to catch our breath after a game of 'superhero dinosaurs', and that was when I eventually got him to see the ghost in the tree.

It's cold out, snowy in the shade. I'm starting to feel a bit more tired all the time, and slacking on exercise and diet is always tempting. It's just that time of year when people start to hide in between important feasts, and we all take a bit of time to develop some things about ourselves. I'd like to develop watercolor painting as well as classical guitar, but I'm also tempted to lay on the floor and waste this little bit of free time I've found today. I'm at that phase of parenting, and I won't complain because I love every second of it. However, I would be lying if I said I wasn't overdue for some slightly extended time with myself that isn't work-related.

The talisman around my neck seems to be working. I knew this would be a challenging journey, and it's best to take it slow. I haven't yet talked to Ari about it. I'm not sure why.

I wonder if my friends are still inspired like they used to be. I feel so distant these days, and it's hard to completely catch up over only a few beers and a few classic retro games. Even those times are fewer and farther behind. So, perhaps this is part of my inspiration to seek the path toward another journey. I've always done these alone, and although it's easy to say I am more alone than even, I would be a fool to overlook the fact that I have a family to journey with now. 

Thus, I sigh and lean back. I go to sip a cup of tea that is long cold and empty. I feel creatively inspired, but perhaps afraid to kick it into gear. My paintings speak to me, and I can say that comfortably knowing that that virtually nobody reads this blog anymore. I feel at best when I'm creatively turned on, and I am oftentimes afraid that I will fail upon delivery. That mean I'll set up my paper and brush with fresh paint and water only to create something terrible. 

As I write this, I suddenly feel the uncontrollable urge to create something. I bet it sucks. I'll be back in a bit.

____

Update: it sucked.

Aquamarine

I'm a pile of blankets on the couch. It's the day after Thanksgiving, but I was away in Mexico when we celebrated it last week. 

I'm on a journey again, or at least the beginning of one. I'm about to head into the 'forest', but I'm not ready yet. I'm pacing back and forth at the entrance like a neurotic hiker making sure he has all of his unnecessary equipment.

Around my neck is an aquamarine stone given to me by a sincere and true friend, a stone that had been missing for a few years now come to think of it. It was lost somewhere in our house, I could sense it.

Every now and then I would be reminded of my stone and suddenly feel the urge to get my precious item back, but I was never successful in finding it beneath our family's clutter. It wasn't until recently when I saw a funny but crude reel on Instagram (I don't wanna sound _____ or anything, but I love rocks), and for some reason that was the one that made me want to find my aquamarine. And, I did. It was hiding somewhere in one of my wife's sacred boxes filled with other important elements of our travels together. 

This stone is not a matter of travel to me, not exactly. This stone has part of my soul in it, and I long to free it during this next year or so. It has a lesson teach me and a store to tell. Ari would be into that. He did something to this stone to look after me, and he's always been a glowing light to my path.

I think I'm almost ready to enter the forest. I crossed a rapid river to arrive here upon the forest's mysterious entrance, and I'm equally ready to leave my woes on the other side. Yet, it makes wonder if those woes are entangled around my inherent need for solitude. How to I enter this forest without leaving my son behind or endangering him? It makes me wonder even more deeply if he is to wander through his own forest, and how I could protect him on his journey. He is on his own path, yet our worlds are adventure in their own colorful universe.

The forest is a strange and scary place for these reasons. Enter at your own risk, but be sure to bring a protective amulet!

My son has started asking why, and he is doing so much more frequently than he ever has before. It's funny because lately I have been too.

Its kind of strange how one day we suddenly pop into existence in a society that has already been formed on a planet we cannot comprehend. 

As a parent, I've come to realize that we have only a limited time of our youth to search for these answers before having kids of our own. Truthfully, however, I thought I'd have more answers by now, but I'm nowhere closer than I was when I began asking questions of my own.

I have no idea why we are here, I don't really care either. Being here on this planet with my son is the most real thing I've ever felt, and I've finally realized that this isn't just a dream anymore. I have a job to do, and I plan to do it well.