The (For the sake of privacy, there could be some holes in this story)
Every morning here, I get up first, probably because I'm still in cleveland time which is 2 hours ahead. So 5am in AZ is 7am back there.
Once I hear the pup moving around, I toss his leash on, get dressed and we walk.
Ever since I could remember, I had to go nearly everywhere w my blanky. Any road trips w my parents, even the time they dropped me and my brother and sister in Altoona for a week, I had to have my blanky ready and available at all times.
Except then, the blanky was a Walkman and then discman, now it's a phone w Spotify.
Along the path of the walk, unless you're busy staring at your shoelaces, you can't help but stare at the sky and mountain ranges. I've never seen anything quite like it. I like the desert air. I like the rock landscape in place of grass.
I like the change. In a different time and place, I think I would've made a really nice wanderer and writer. I'd travel from town to town, writing of the things I'd see, people I'd meet, and the all the starlit paths that connected them.
I've experienced some changes recently, that I attributed to becoming "a grumpy old man." Excess noise bothered me, traffic bothered me, general chatter bothered, all almost to an annoying "get off my damn lawn," type reaction.
But then I saw it from a different angle... I long for simplicity. I have a deep desire for a simple way. An honest, open minded pace of life. The traffic, the noise, they were all signs and messages, telling me something needed to change.
And I read a quote yesterday that really drove the point home. "When a flower does not grow, it's not the flowers fault."
(Look at me, comparing myself to a pretty flower). If a flower doesn't grow, it needs new or healthier soil, it needs different light or levels of water. It's never a bad flower. It's never a flower that doesn't behave. It just needs to be in the right garden to grow the way it was designed to grow.
---
I was sitting w a friend recently and we were talking about relationships between men and women, fairly general. She asked if there are as many good men as women.
No, I answered quickly, probably too quickly.
She stared as if anticipating a joke.
I said no, it's not even close.
I often think of the John Mayerlyric in "Daughters," where he sings "she's, just like a maze, where all of the walls they continually change."
I see women in a similar aspect, but not as always in the maze term. I see a kaleidoscope. A very trippy array of colors and shapes and patterns and twisting/turning movements, always changing and surprising, yet the consistency is just in the base line thought of the kaleidoscope.
In using this analogy, the differences I see rest in spectrum of colors. The quantity of angles and ability to adjust the speeds as the colors unwind and move.
The beauty is inside the complexity and when magenta appears, its magenta, not purple or red. Does that make sense? I see art.
We talked about the definition of "good," in relationship terms. What makes a good guy or a good gal. This reminded me a conversation I had many, many years ago in the back of a parts department. There was an older man that worked in the department, just a few days per week and we would talk about everything. I'll tell you though, we didn't click until he heard my cassette tapes. He was an old blues man, around 65, black w the Morgan freeman hair. Very kind. He heard some of my tunes and we bonded over guitars.
So one day, he was telling me about his relationship w his wife, deceased, and communication in love and it always stuck w me.
I'll admit, in this phase, he had a front row seat of watching me attempt to flirt and convince a co-worker into dating me. I'm sure he was completely entertained because we, me and the girl, were pretty much idiots.
But he told me something along the lines of, "love is a language. You can be speaking it, but if they speak it in a different dialect, you won't understand each other. You could be speaking English, she's speaking Italian, both claiming love, but you can't hear it."
Too often in the past, this lesson has slipped away from me. I'd like to think, or hope, it's always on my radar. I feel it's loaded w compassion and empathy, two traits we could never have enough of.
I see this language everywhere now. Between friends, men, women, relatives, etc. it's right in front us, we hear it, but can't always understand it.
The breakdown can be found here, and we need to learn to not be too upset when we see it/learn it/feel it - If you're not able to or willing to, learn another language, you will be limited in relationships and experiences, and you will need luck.
**Please read that part again and really think about love as a language and how many different ways it can be communicated. **
Remember, this is the mind F. You can think or feel all you want to about your love, but if the receiver doesn't feel it, it's not full. There is not a complete connection. It has to go from x and into y, whatever x and y may be. It has to flow out and in, up and down.
Imagine a teeter-totter with only one person on it, or two people but not moving evenly. It wouldn't be much of a ride. It would have promise early, but one would get tried and feel they're carrying the load.
Or think of playing catch w someone. You play w anticipation of throwing, catching, moving, you may make a game of it but all the while there is a connection w the ball.
Some people can't throw far and need their partner to step in.
Some have wild arms and sling it all over the yard... that could make for an exhausting game.
Some just enjoy consistent long toss.
Do we all experience fun the same?
Do we all experience fear the same?
Then why would love be any different.
I use Hendrix and Mayer often in blogs... we hear the same notes, but we all don't hear the same thing. To you, it might just be a guitar, to me, I hear language.
Let's say you're traveling and you meet someone in France. Now, you've taken a few classes in preparation for your trip so you're not in the absolute dark, but you certainly can't speak fluently.
You walk up to have a conversation. They are in your boat but opposite, they speak just a touch of English.
There will be some common words, you'll have somecommunication. In time, if you stick w the conversation, you might be able to learn more words from each other and improve the line. It might grow and grow and you learn to speak the same language.
Or it could go the opposite. One of you may not be a great teacher, the other a poor or unwilling student. Maybe they just didn't want to be taught English by you and you didn't want to learn their French.
In this context, you can't be upset. You can be upset about details or something physical/tangible, but not the communication lines highlighted.
We are all individuals w one life, sharing common space on earth. As Steve Jobs said "don't be trapped living someone else's dogma."
For me... I need A) consistent conversations that spark new thoughts and stimulate ideas, I need to know you're in my "tribe," and B) I need to see your soul in action.
(For the record, I don't pretend to be a smartass, I'm just a guy talking shit and throwing out some ideas w my thumbs).
