Stews and *Swims

It's 7:21 in the morning, but I've been awake for a long time now. Did I wait too long to start writing? Today I'm going on a quest, but I don't know where. I need to get a taste for quests again. It's the cold time of year when questing becomes more of a planned event. I also want to go out west on a real adventure. I want to start at the Black Hills then vanish onward in any direction westward. Like mist. 

Something is calling me. It's loud this time and hopefully loud enough to include my son. That's a whole different book, now isn't it? Much like a mystery novel, I've seen myself through many problems lately that were all resolved by an answer that's been in my face this whole time - I'm a traveler and it's what I do best. I never meant to throw in the sweaty towel of wanderlust, I've just been focused on other things. I waited for the call again, and now it calls loudly. 

So, where do I begin?

There are a lot of variables to consider when traveling with a young one. Besides the most important matters like health and safety, it's very important to me that this is also an adventure that favors his experience just as much as ours. I want him to be excited about where we are going, and I want there to be attractions along the way that we are looking forward to. Perhaps these are dinosaur museums and dig sites. I'm very cool with that. But, we have to act according to the seasons, and it's currently nearing min-December in Michigan.

What do we do now?

We head to the UP. My wife has a lot of history there, and through a bizarre twist of fate, I recently ran into a friend at the airport with his uncle who offered us a place to stay. It's far though, not as far as going out west, but Michigan is dauntingly long from top to bottom. You have to plan around snowstorms and all sorts of other northern situations. 

That part of the state has always been special to me as well, in consideration. We passed through the UP during the early days of our massive road trip my wife and I took about eight years ago. It's been on my mind ever since. I only wish we could proceed and continue onward this time as well. Maybe we should.. oh, right.. the snow.

I used to call this period of time 'stewing'. It's like I'm slowly adding ingredients and patiently watching a delicious broth come to a soft boil. I have always liked that analogy because it reminds me that sometimes I have no choice but to be patient because any other option would be an uncooked meal. The traveling version of stewing is what I typically refer to as 'swimming', and I guess that's just due to my fishy nature. Yet, travel is a different world to me now, and I don't know how those titles hold up for me anymore. 

Dry Erase, intact

A few years ago, my wife and I moved into my aunt's house. She had suffered a stroke a few months prior, and it became evident she would not be able to return to her house in the foreseeable future, so we rented it from her son while we searched for a home to buy one day. She left behind a lot of things that were important to her, and for the most part everything was eventually put into various storage locations throughout the house and garage, but there were a few simple things that I hesitated to disturb.

One of these such things was a tiny white board she kept on the far end of her kitchen near the coffee maker. It contained a dozen or so scribbles of appointments and phone numbers including the visit she had planned to the doctor's office the day she ultimately had a stroke. For some reason it felt like a cryptic reminder to me that the things which concern us are very temporary, and just as new owners of your house will one day decide to wipe the previous owner's white board clean, so too will our slates be cleared as well.

Then I come to look at my current white board, and it's a horrid mess. There are scribbles on top of hastefully written phone numbers, addresses, and to-do lists that never really got done anyway. It's almost illegible, but it's somehow a very accurate description of how things have been for me lately. The fact is that I haven't felt very intact, and that's somehow the most perfect word I could find. I even mumbled it a few days ago briefly after waking up and noted that it was the first word I uttered all day. 

It's getting better though. The semester is almost over and I have most of my Christmas shopping done. How cliché to write that. Christmas shopping is one of the last things on my mind, and I write it down on my list of grievances like it's somehow that heavy on me at the moment. 

Manifestation: I want to go out west. I'm going to go out west again, but this time with the family. We are going to drive with some direction but let our hearts be our guides. I need my son to experience that. 

Something is calling me again.

The Tent and the Kronosaurus

We have this great game that Salem made up, and it involves putting up a tent in the living room. This act alone will invariably erupt any child's imagination, and it's very cool to see where my guy takes this one. 

It's a ship of some kind. You have to sit far away from the opening or a menacing kronosaurus will attack you. Occasionally, he leaves us alone long enough to explore the waters with our scuba gear, but he eventually he always comes back. Sometimes you can hear him smacking against the hull off our vessel and the walls shake. 

We load our ship with a crew made of Dinosaur Friend, Other Dinosaur Friend, Barfer, Slime, JJ, Trash Panda, Alpaca, a few more, and once in a while there is a terrible storm. The blowing gales and harsh rains shipwreck our boat onto the shores of a lone island, the couch. Salem achieves this by physically rolling from the floor onto the center of the couch taking the flailing tent with him upwards as he tumbles. 

It's fantastic. We have to build shelter for JJ, who is just a baby that needs food. We eventually build life rafts to aide our damaged vessel as we prepare it to once again be seaworthy. 

And, repeat. 

Discipline

Run.

Work out.

Write.

Paint.

Being an adult with a child means very little free time, very little you-time. The temptation to use that time to disappear into a couch is certainly there, but I can't live like that. 

Something inside of me is on fire this week. I was in Mexico almost every weekend for the last six weeks, and I haven't really gotten used to being home. When I was caught up in my travels, I promised myself that I would get back into shape (physically and mentally) when I was back home, and now I have a promise to keep. And, there are many secrets to discover when you're hyper-focused on something new while enjoying the temporary sense of 'honeymoon' during the initial phase. Things speak to me when I'm running. Something inside of me tells me to focus on how far I've run rather than how far I have left to go. Sometimes that's not true at all. Sometimes I focus on the half dozen arches covered in large Christmas lights at the end of the block a few streets over. That place has been the finishing line of several challenges I've made for myself.

I work out. I don't eat right, at least not for working out. So, I get tired. I need to fix that. I mostly eat rice and beans, rarely animal products of any kind unless I'm stuck in a situation at a diner and have to rely on an omelette or something. I don't understand bulking, and I'm really just trying to stay fit. I drink these potions made of turmeric, cayenne, and black pepper while trying my best to pump as much water as possible throughout the day. And, I pray. Quite often. I think you should too. 

I suppose this blog is now a far cry from the travelogue that it used to be. I've been away from Turkey for nine and a half years, and although I've spend a lot of time in Central America/the Caribbean since then, I didn't really document much of it. I felt like being off the radar for a while. I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and I was starting to realize that perhaps I squeezed a bit too much from life during my travels. That's something that very few people I've ever met would understand, but the ones who do understand it well. 

So, now I'm a middle-aged suburban dad who runs at night listening to house music. I love it. It's my me-time that I thought only existed in fairy tales. If I'm up for it, I'll work out in the garage immediately after. If the muses above me are smiling upon me, I'll paint a single picture after all of that or maybe even write in this blog a bit. I do all this after full days of grading papers, playing with my son, cooking, cleaning, meeting with students, changing oil, fixing the doorknob, calling teachers, pretending to be a dinosaur, pretending to be Dr. Grant, pretending to be Dr. Ian Malcolm (although Salem usually gets to be him). When all of that is said and done, I get to run for a while, work out, write, and paint before reading my son to sleep.

As I go about my day, my brain is no longer thinking about other countries or world travel, but rather it's focused on an email I'm expecting, an appointment I have coming up, a hassle with the insurance company, my son's schooling, finances, all that. So, I find myself praying and giving thanks. I pray that my mind finds some peace and I can get back to the important things in life like playing SpaceTank or taking my son to the dinosaur museum. You know what? It works. 

Have you ever seen Office Space? I'm sure you have. You know that scene where Peter is being hypnotized and his therapist drops dead before snapping him out of a state of pure bliss? That scene has been staying with me lately, and I think about it from time to time. Sometimes I'll be on the phone trying to sort my way through a health insurance issue or something, and I'll start to get all worked up. Then I remember that it's possible to feel the relief of not caring even before the issue is resolved. I just drop my shoulders, take a deep breath, and sort of space out into my own little world. I've watched that movie about five times in the last two months, always on flights. It spoke to me for some reason during my several recent work trips.

So, that's my life these days, and I am focusing on the path of discipline. It's done me well in the past back when I was struggling through college just to pass basic math courses or Spanish. Funny, I excel at both of those now. I just drop my worries and focus on becoming better. I guess that's all I can do. I want to be a better dad. I want to be a better person, and I hope I'm doing alright because I don't really have the option not to.

Version 4.0

My son turned four yesterday, and I realized something very beautiful that I just wanted to document. Not only was he celebrating his very fun birthday with awesome friends and family, but we were also celebrating four years of having Salem in our lives; the best four years of my life.

I wanted that written somewhere. 

Soul Searching

If I were to randomly transport to this moment in time from any other moment in time, it would be just as easy to tell that it's currently early September. It's not the weather or the shortening days, but something about this month keeps me on edge, and I think writing about it will help me figure out why.

The obvious reasons would still be valid. Summer is almost over and school is back in session. As a kid, both of those brought me a lot of anxiety, and I'm sure they did for everyone else. But, this month in this year I feel off about something. 

I need something. Maybe I need someone. Maybe I just need some attention. It seems like my 40's are quickly becoming a chapter where many good friends are becoming strangers, and I'm kind of bummed about it.

So, on days like today I wake up early (I always wake up early) and I find some angle to watch the sunrise, either by couch or morning run. It's my alone time and I use it to think about things, but it never gets me anywhere.

And, I dabble. I'll get really interested in things like watercolor painting or ocarinas and for a short while I'll obsess over them. That feels good to me. Art and music have been the guiding light to my life's journey, and even though I'm not professionally employed through either, the core of my being has always revolved around both. So, I never really find any answers there, only comfort. 

Soul searching.. Isn't that what this blog has always been about? 

10:35 PM, the rocking chair in the living room at our place in Port Hope. I think a cosmic challenge somewhere has been accepted. I'm probably going through something. 

Earlier I heard an old man in a video say, "if you live in the past, you'll be depressed. If you live in the future, you'll have anxiety. If you live in the present, you'll be at peace." 

I guess so. I mean, I have been living in the past an awful lot lately. I've been pretty depressed about it too. And, I've been asking, "what's next?". Maybe that's causing me anxiety, living in the future and all. 

Hmm.. right? It's a head scratcher to ponder what a happy person should do to move forward, or at least live more in the present. There was a time when I was satisfied with such anxiety.

Today is a good day for a change.

It's about 7:53 in the morning, and I'm sitting at the kitchen table of our tiny home in Port Hope, Michigan. My cat is curled up in a cute little ball to my right, and down the hall I can hear my wife and son waking up, laughing about something. 

I don't have a lot of time to begin this, but I want something different from today. I have a lot of good things going for me, and I'm going to relax a little bit. Maybe now I can find the source of that voice that has been whispering to me.

Familiar.

Cat spirit. Goddess.

Maybe I just needed to stretch. I feel strong again. I'm onto something.

Coffee machine gurgles behind me, and the world is just about to get started. Oh, how I do deeply value these mornings. What's the secret to having more mornings like this?

I really don't think anybody reads this anymore. Can I start being honest? That would be greeeat.

Duygu

Hello blog,

It's a Tuesday in late August. My son is away at his grandmother's house and my wife is somewhere doing something. I'm here. I'm in a weird way. Too much live resin today, maybe. I'm not myself. Sometimes writing helps.

I want to escape from social media. There was a time about fifteen years ago when I dropped my phone in the water, and suddenly I was free from the very basic burden of text messages. Now look. It's insane how much time I spend doing bullshit on my phone. 

I need something. I get excited about stuff for a little while and put my all into it. Then it kind of fizzles away and I go back to soul searching. I'm always soul searching. What does that mean anyway? Are we looking for souls or searching from within our souls? 

I'm just trying to see some beautiful things.

Maybe I've been spoiled.

Does anybody still read this? I'd imagine one or two travel friends are still lingering around out there also hiding from social media. What keeps you going? Are you still wandering around the world like you were when I met you? 

Maybe We're Fishing

Hi there, Salem

I'm writing you this letter from my university which is located in the center of downtown Seattle. It's early morning and I'm the first one here, munching on an everything bagel from a tiny café around the corner.

You had a nightmare last night. I think you did, at least. About 2:00 in the morning, you woke up really scared about something, and I think it was because you had just watched that movie "Up" with Suboy, your friend from Vietnam. It wasn't the subject matter or anything like that, I just don't think you've been exposed to suspenseful things and ominous music, dogs with glowing eyes, and all that. Actually, this reminds me of one of my first memories which was of a scary scene in a Garfield cartoon where a panther with bright green glowing eyes was on the loose. But, you came to me when you were scared. You cuddled up with me and let me talk you back to sleep. When things like this happen, it makes me realize how lucky I am to be your dad. I never thought a person would love me like you do, and honestly that is the most intense feeling I've ever had. Pardon me for saying something so typical, but I think you'll understand this better one day if you ever choose to be a dad too.

You are the center of my world, but sometimes I get distracted. I get lost in this cycle of worry and anxiety about the future. I'm worried about my health, money, climate change, school shootings, good God.. I'm worried about everything. Yet, somehow a new day begins, and this perfect little boy wakes up next to me as we spend the last of our few days in Seattle together. 

Salem, you're going to make a lot of friends someday soon. Don't forget me, okay? I was your first best friend, and to me you will always be my sunny days. I love watching you grow up, but it does pain my heart sometimes. It's not that I want to hold on to each moment because that wouldn't be fair to you. You deserve to grow and live and love, but I get so worried you won't want to be my friend anymore. All I've ever wanted, since I've known you, is to live to be a very old man by a river somewhere and you still like me. Maybe we're fishing. We should probably start fishing soon. 

I just want you to know that I'm not perfect, but I will love you unconditionally forever. You've made my life complete, and it is now my life's purpose to see that this world is good enough for you and you are safe and never feel alone. 

It's a wild world out there, but it's yours now. It's so good to be here with you, my son. 

Flutes

It's July. The house is almost clean and it's currently 11:11. That's a good time to catch up with the thoughts in my head. I shaved Salem's head a few weeks ago, and he looks a lot older. He'll be four in about two months. I hope he reads this blog someday.

My cousin's husband died a few days ago. I think I've known him my whole life, and he's one of those cousins that is not blood-related but family anyway. He was only 58. My heart is broken for his family. 

That's the existential dread in me selfishly sneaking in. All I even want in life is to be an old man by a river somewhere and my son still likes me. Maybe we're fishing. I never really pursued fishing, but his fascination is always contagious. 

Sometimes we walk by the boats at the marina. Salem was on his first boat right to Mackinac Island a few weeks ago. His face lit up with a powerfully glowing glow. It made life beautiful for everyone around.

I wonder how long he'll love me the way he does now. It's really the only thing I think about sometimes, and maybe I'm just having issues with my own late father. It's easy to say that things are different for each generation, but those teenage years.. man.. they are coming, like it or not. 

Can I talk about me? I like flutes. Ocarinas mostly, although I put in a bid on a strange flute I found on eBay. It was misspelled and likely worth a lot more than it was listed. My son says that I make beautiful music. He told me he loves beautiful things and he loves nature.

Salem requested his first two actual songs for the first time a few days ago. I'm glad I remembered because I wanted to write it somewhere. They were both songs from an 80's Japanese Synthpop mix I found on Spotify. One was 'Stay With Me' and the other was also from that mix, but I've forgotten. I think it was 'Shyness Boy'. I love that name. He said that kind of music sounds like Pokémon. 

I finished Ocarina of Time and Link Between Worlds recently, but the first was by far the best game I've ever played. That kind of made me sad, especially towards the end when I realized I would never experience that game for the first time again. I'm a nerd. I love it.

We're going to Seattle in a few days, and I probably should have mentioned that earlier. I should go pack.

Dudas

I'm not really in any frame of mind to be writing right now, but something tells me that I have a lot to discuss with myself. 

It's early in the morning, but I've already been up for about an hour. I'm wrapped in a purple blanket, sitting on the living room couch in way that will later hurt my neck, and directly to my left a beautiful morning window is blocked by a stuffed Dragon Quest slime toy. Brad and Andy were over last night. Dan was over earlier. Salem and I have been playing SpaceTank (best game ever), and I'm currently waiting for him to wake up so we can play all day. I'm going to Mexico this week.

Let me check in how I've been feeling. I have no idea how I've been feeling. That's what happens when your kid is old enough, you actually have to schedule time to sit back and think for a while. I feel like I used to be in a constant state of self-thought, but to me it feels rare and selfish to even check in on myself. 

I'm writing this like I'm having a hard time, but I'm actually quite peaceful today. I'm just a little lost again, and 'lost' has basically been the theme of these two blogs I started some 16 years ago. But, writing makes me appreciate being lost, and part of me feels like a platform like this is what I need to escape the dredge of social media. I'm tired of it. I feel like it is holding me captive and stealing my attention from any actual inspiration. 

What was I talking about? I'm at a wild crossroads, and I've only told a few people. I have a certain amazing opportunity cooking (two of them, now that I think about it) that would allow my family to travel together, even internationally, but I would be lying if I said I didn't have my doubts about it. Those doubts aren't the typical fears for safety and money or whatever, but rather doubts that my son would actually be gaining anything from it that is worth being away from home for so long. 

I feel like 29 year-old Chris would have never once looked away from an opportunity or blessing like this, but that guy had never experience loss like I did last year. That is certainly a variable, and I don't talk enough about how much that affected my desire to grow anymore. It messed me up a bit to watch my dad go.

I think I used up all of my writing time for now. More on this later. I feels good to write again.

CETYS, Mexicali

 

Totoro Wind

There was a time when this was my only outlet for social media. I kind of miss those days, and from time to time I consider going back to those simpler ways. This entry was preceded by about thirty five minutes of staring at my phone. 

Things are good though. It's almost a bit strange to be writing when things are so well and fine, but something was pulling me to open up my computer and write today. 

It's a beautiful day. Somehow it's about 61 degrees outside even though its still early February. Life has been cozy lately. I don't work too hard. I try to live well and I've made some sort of peace with myself. 

Now I want to make something.

(A massive wind passes by immediately after writing that.)

I feel like I have all of the tools and enough training to get the job done. I have a million ideas and I'm wide awake. Normally I'd be living a stinky and adventurous lifestyle of a free-spirited artist, but a few years ago I assumed the role of father. I love and cherish this role, and its importance is what has been channeling my energy away from my own creative pursuits. 

More simply put, I'm giving all my energy to my son and I don't regret it one bit. But, I'm finding myself a bit lacking in personal growth lately and I'm not sure how to go about it without sacrificing time with my family. 

Frankly, I do a lot around here too. 

Let it be known that I'm happy. I'm extremely happy, but also thirsty. You can be both. 

February

Sometimes I think I'm doing it wrong. I'm wasting time. I'm not cherishing each passing moment. My son is growing up just as fast as they said he would and I'm lost in my own world half of the time. I just wanted to write that down somewhere because it's a challenge for me. I love the passing of time and I love watching my son grow, but every so often there are these very, very special moments where time seems to stop. Just an hour ago I was putting him to bed and I left a few minutes too early. He called for me, "Daddy", and he usually calls for Mom. So, I went back to cuddle up with him for a little while longer, and suddenly I felt like everything was still. I had nothing on my mind. I was at peace and I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world. I've never felt that so strongly before, and every single day I'm afraid to lose it. Only parents would truly understand that.

Chassis

Hey Salem,

You're staying the night at Grandma Rhoda's house and it seems like you guys are having a great time. These days you have a sudden fascination with monster truck chassis (specifically). You're into dinos as much as always, and you are deeply excited about Legos. You build your own chassis out of flat Duplo pieces, and sometimes we build different kinds of houses and buildings out of different magnetic shapes from this really cool set you have. You even built a gulag for army men, which was fantastically entertaining. You run around the house like a wild dinosaur every night, and just writing this is making me miss you so much. I love playing games with you, dude. Do you even realize what a joy you've brought to my life? Maybe that's why I'm feeling a bit down today, because when you are away it feels like a piece of me is missing. I know I'm being silly, but it's true. Ever since you've been around my life has been a lot different. I feel like I'm seeing the world all over again from your eyes, and I lose myself to my own imagination when we play games together. 

I'm so happy, it scares me.

So far, 2024:

• Chicago.
• Chicago-Colorado-Chicago.
• Virginia Beach
• Michigan stuff
• Grand Canyon.

Time shall tell..

There is a new plastic bag in the tree in my backyard.

I don't know why I chose this moment to write. I'm frantic and weird about something, doing that thing where I pace back and forth between two or three rooms of my small house, freezing in place in each room as if I have no idea how I got there. It's true. I've been randomly doing this for years, and it often precedes something big. What's getting me? Let it out. Don't proofread. My mom guilted me about something earlier today. A friend didn't write me back twice. My son is better than I deserve. It's blue outside, but a pretty kind of blue. It matches my living room walls somehow. There is fluffy snow on the ground. The anniversary of my father's death is coming up. I'm going to Mexico soon with little to no preparation. I haven't dreamed in a long time. I'm uninspired. It feels like it has always been winter. Writing this helps somehow. 

There is a new plastic bag in the tree in my backyard.

First Day of School

It happened. Even though I swore I wouldn't get sad, it suddenly hit me that my son is going to start school in a few days. Today felt like a blur. 

His world is so little. The bigger his world gets, the less control I have. I will learn to accept that.

That little plastic bag that has haunted my tree for so long is nearly gone.