thanks for sharing
Two January’s ago, the 22nd, 2021, I said this space would be the place I posted/shared/wheezed my daily weather. Like, this is me today. Me including emotional, spiritual, physical, hopeful, sometimes factual – the particular language of the day bringing me closer to or further from the me of me. Mostly closer.
I feel clearly I’ve been successful with my intention, and nearly all the time, each day, I’ve been very personal and expansive sharing intimate stuff. This is how one human is – today. Even on days which appear somewhat more “esoteric”, which Gavin taught me what that means. Like yesterday’s poem – an exact description of my life yesterday. Anyway, since I feel it’s been a mostly righteous commitment on my part – doing what I said I was going to do – I often feel like it’s more than enough and there’s no need to share stuff anyplace else, Facebook for instance. If you want to know about me, subscribe to this Blog. If you don’t feel for subscribing to this Blog, fuck off. Really. I could be more decent and say “buzz off”, but see – I’m not feeling right here so far today to be all decent and everything. My weather.
I am, though, feeling a powerful connection with compassion. I had to go through something last night, with lingering echoes upon waking today, to remember – like, total duh – it’s all about compassion. At least for me, anyways. It’s why of the nine books I’ve written and published, “The Files of Milky Dent” has my heart. Reading from the back cover – “We was always chasing compassion.”
There’s a small photo on the back cover of that book, a group of people posing, a couple giving peace signs. I took that picture on the walkway at Venice Beach in LA sometime in June, maybe July, of 1977. After I’d moved out to California forever, the first time. I wanted to hold that place, the walkway, its ambiance, like its milieu, so I took a picture of a bunch of street-looking people on and around a bench. One of them saw me pointing my camera, and a couple started yelling “Fuck you” to me, like assuming maybe I was a cop, or at a minimum I was a super intrusive asshole. Saw I walked over to them and said I was a Massachusetts kid, 27 years old, now in a life-long dream to move to California, and they were cool and I wanted to make a memory. And this is what’s called alchemy. In a nano-second they went from threatening me to offering to pose for me. Which they did, and I’ve always had that photo in the possessions of all my life’s comings and goings, and it felt right to stick on the back cover of “Milky”.
Which is all part of how I am today. You’re either on the bus or not. It’s all about the compassion, kid. (Me reminding me.)