I realize I dropped a bomb about having met my 24 year old daughter from my first love. I haven't followed up for a few reasons which I may explain at a later date but I will say she's gorgeous...who knew? I lost the internets since Thursday because lightning hit the ground near my place and blew out my modem--here's my new one, I'm back baby!
I haven't been blogging much lately because I recently found out and met a 24 year old daughter from my first and truest love--what an awesome surprise! I don't have time right now to tell the whole story but I thought I would post this photo from around that period of time (1982).
Ian Kerr, my best friend and roommate had received one of those Sears Portrait Studio coupons so we decided to go get one done with our other good friend, Shane Melnuk. Here are the results that Ian fondly named, the "Charming Chaps Club". We handed out photos to everyone we knew...at least my Mom kept a copy..
Shane left, Ian rear and yours truly--nice lid. For some reason I had shaved off my moustache...too bad.
"Worry is an addiction that interferes with compassion. Worry is a problem that seems to be rampant. Perhaps it is due to the nature of our overly advanced civilization; perhaps it is a measure of our own spiritual degeneracy. Whatever the source, it is clear that worry is not useful. It is a cancer of the emotions-concern gone compulsive. It eats away at body and mind. It does no good to say, "don't think about it" You'll only worry more. It is far better to keep walking your path, changing what you can. The rest must be dissolved in compassion. In this world of infants with immune deficiencies, racial injustice, economic imbalance, personal violence, and international conflict, it is impossible to address everyone's concerns. Taking care of yourself and doing something good for those whom you meet is enough. That is compassion, and we must exercise it even in the face of the overwhelming odds. Whenever you meet a problem, help if it is in your power to do so. After you have acted, withdraw and be unconcerned about it. Walk on without ever mentioning it to anybody. Then there is no worry, because there has been action." 365 Tao, Daily Reflections by Deng Ming-Dao.
Sometimes...let me rephrase that, most of the time I feel helpless. Every path leads to another dead end, quashing any hope I may have been building on until hopelessness becomes my reality. It feels at times that my brain is out to get me and as I'm typing this think, "Quit feeling sorry for yourself, it's not that bad." But it is. I know I have plenty of things to be thankful for and maybe I just hate Sundays, I don't know--that's it, I just don't know. Apparently it's always darkest before the dawn...or before a complete blackout. Dad has a saying that goes," I started to see the light at the end of the tunnel and got run over by the train" Hah! I feel so exhausted. I try hobbies, prayer, exercise, talking to friends/therapists but always lurking is this restless, irritable and discontented feeling that has been there for a lifetime of Sundays that only self medication seems to relieve. There are occasional moments of respite but they seem to be short-lived and I'm left fighting through this general malaise that grips my reality.
It's now Monday morning and when I went to get my coffee, this was playing in the background. Felt appropriate..