I’ve been stalling on writing the first chapter. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been writing. Humorous emails, copious amount of notes, drafted and re-drafted press release and strategy memos, even a few HI moments, anything but the first chapter of my book.
Some of the other chapters are already written, I’ve got those some of those done a while back, just not the first one, where it all begins.
To tell the story properly, I will have to tell you where I was in life and how it felt. About the day I paced in circles, nearly hyperventilating, 48 hours before a one-way flight to Mexico. Or what happened that night in San Diego during a double bill of Nine Inch Nails & Jane’s Addiction. And the day after when I trampled across the grass to meet my friend, picking up her house keys, dropping to my knees, sobbing, in the middle of Culver Studios at the sight of her.
It was a lifetime ago. But to make this story I’m about to tell you good, worthy of your time, narrating the events is not enough. I need to let you in, take you on this journey with me. You need to be there with me, feel what I feel. Or else this is just another, I went there and did that kind of book. There are enough of those around don’t you think?
The shaman transcends time, channeling the past and future. All of it is right there —- at our finger tips —- within reach. All the memory, all those feelings, you just have to reach out and call its name. It’s not any different than the lingering touch of a lover the day after, albeit not nearly as pleasant. I’m stalling. I know it will come if I summon it, but do I dare? I won’t be heading back and relive it again in private, but with you and everyone else.
Oh look, there is a bit of crumb stuck in between the keys. Maybe I should clean my keyboard.
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."