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. 

Alien

I need to write down how I feel right now. Maybe you get me.

I'm lonely. I miss my kid. Yet, I'm deeply proud of this amazing opportunity to work with brilliant young people here in Mexico. A student told me recently that no other professor has ever sat and talked with them, nor remembered their name. It broke my heart a bit because everyone should have somebody to talk to.

Are humans naturally lonely people? Do they seek connections with others to validate their own meaning? Do they hurt others to satisfy the stinging burn of their own pain?

Ever feel like an alien? I've spent four decades and traveled to dozens of countries trying to figure out human beings, but I'm no closer than I was when I felt terrified in first grade. I smile a lot, and everyone thinks I'm happy all the time. I'm horrified of people, and just trying to navigate this weird planet is a heavy task sometimes. I have a job to do, and I'm going to raise my son with love and light.

I think I'll go for a walk.

October 24, 2023

I was going to begin this post from a fancy hotel room somewhere in central Mexico, but this jazz music is so inviting to my mind. 

A full day's headache to prepare for a five day journey. I feel like I used to take less time to pack for four months. 

I'm no longer a backpacker. I have a special bag for my work shoes. They are pointy in the toes. That's weird that this is happening to me.

These work trips make me feel like a secret agent. I've always wanted to take work trips. 

I can't believe I'm a professor now. 

The older I get, the less I have any clue how to read people. I haven't the slightest idea how others perceive me. 

It's Fall Now

Hey Salem,

It's fall now. Your mom is working at an event nearby and you are sound asleep on one of your famous naps. You pulled me down with you for about twenty minutes. I'm still in dreamland. I love these days when it's just the two of us. I like when all of us are together, but there is something special about being alone with you. I don't know how I got to be so blessed that I can work from home and spend lots of time with you. I don't know a lot of things.

When you turned three, it was as if you became this new person over night. You had a riot at your party, and when I recently asked you what was the happiest you have ever been, you said it was at your birthday party. You want some buddies, and I'm trying hard to find them for you. You're starting school in January. I'm so happy for you. 

Salem, your dad is a complicated person, even though he likes to believe in his own simplicity. He has a hard time navigating this world sometimes, and he made up a way that works for him. I guess he would want the same for you, and he is.. I am.. very proud of you for the person you have become so far. This world scares your father sometimes, and at certain points of his life he wasn't so sure if there would ever be a light in his world. That's when he met your mommy all over again, and that's when we all got to meet you. Our lives have never been the same since you've been around, and we are trying every day to become better people for you. 

We're only human. That's one of the unspoken mottos of this house because we all know what it's like to feel overwhelmed. Your mother and I don't believe in 50/50, but sometimes 80/20. That means we understand when the other isn't feeling their best, and we know this is a safe place to ask for a little help. I love you, my boy. I'll keep you safe.

~~~~~

It's fall now, as I've said. This is my favorite time of year.  I feel so creatively reborn, and I deeply wish for this feeling to last me through the winter, hopefully for a long time. I haven't felt this way in so long. It's my job to teach this feeling to my son, and show him how to embrace his own creative freedom. I'll be in Mexico soon. I love my job. I still can't believe this is all real.

Almost 3

Hi there, Salem

This post is directly to you.

It's a rainy day, and it seems it's always a rainy day when I find myself a minute for a quiet thought. I can't say I've been busy in the way that most people find themselves busy, but my brain is so occupied sometimes that I forget to live in the moment. My life is actually a wonderful blessing no matter how you look at it. In this blessing of a day, I find myself alone with your mom upstairs while you are spending the night at Grandma's. Mom is drawing pictures in a dimly lit corner, and I've just come inside from working out in the garage.

I miss you. I was just watching some old videos of you, and it's obvious that you've changed so much in such a short amount of time. You're a curious and thoughtful boy. You're creative, and you can make something fun out of any situation. I love playing with you. We play like I remember playing as a little kid; "you're a dinosaur, okay now you're a fast car!" We chase each other around the front yard with mom and Chibi playing in the garden as the fireflies begin to dance their beautiful patterns. This is my life. You gave me this life, and gosh, I really don't deserve it. Thunder struck as I wrote that. Maybe I just noticed it that time, but Salem, I hope it's no secret that I'm not perfect. Nobody has to pretend to be perfect in this house, and as long as I am around I want you to know that I'm a safe place. You can talk to me, and no matter how old we are I will always be your dad and you my little boy (my big boy). 

You're almost three years old. That's so cool! I can't believe I have a three-year-old dude to hang out with. You're just about the age of your first bicycle, maybe a soccer team, maybe a swim class. I love this so much, and even writing these words makes me wish you were back home today. I hope you have fun tonight, my dude. You are my home. Your heart and my heart are very old friends.

Dad