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From the moment we enter into the world until the day we die we are given a life account.
This has nothing to do with time, as I am convinced that time is something that is a constant motion that affects matter it comes in contact with and causes decay.
This is evident when you observe any matter over a certian passage of time.
I was talking to one of my roommates this even about what a life account is and decited that it needed to be added to the growing list of thoughts, theories and other miscelanous items that are here.
The question you have to ask your self is how am I spending my life?
We are often asked how do you spend your time, but I think that really doesn't get close to what the question should be.
How are you spending your life?
Is what you do adding or subtracting from your life.
If you have things that you do that make you happy and relaxed you are adding to the quality of your life and so adding to your life account.
You get sick less, and age slower.
This is a proven fact. Thoes people who spend less of their life worring over things that are momentary tend to grow old slower.
On the other hand, if you are a ball of stress, hate your job, and are generally discontent and not at ease, you will age faster and be suseptable to illness alot more than you would other wise.
This whole realization started a few months ago when I was working 4 / 10 hour days at an electronics factory.
I was in pain all the time. The three days off were spent trying to not feel like a zombie walking around, and most of all I spent the time sleeping.
I realized as I looked at my hands that I have only so much use left of my hands and asked myself was this job worth what it was costing me in terms of what I had left when I wasn't working.
The answer was no. I quit the next day.
I have yet to find a job that pays enough to equal what it costs you in life.
Money is everywhere. You get only so much time, and then it's done.
There are mints cranking out the green stuff, and so it's not in short supply.
Jobs are subject to personal need and taste and they are ample in this country.
The thought that a person could spend a huge chunk of their life account working like a dog, for less than what it costs to cover the basics, and you are loosing your life in the process.
It's a simple equasion. But each person has to decide if the job they have is worth what it actually costs them in the long run.
I'm certianly not telling people to just up and quit work.
But what I am asking is this, what is your life worth to you.
If you are loosing more life than you are having maybe it's time to think about what it is that you actually want.
We've been hammered again and again that in order to be a valuable member of society that we have to pay taxes, live in an apartment or house, and go into debt to have things we don't really need, and if you think about it, most of what we buy ends up being thrown out in favor of something new.
We have been trained to be bored. And it's little wonder that people who hate their job and are bored, continually buy stuff they don't need to try to fill the actual need.
We often make unnessiary sacrifices to stay in something that is taking more from us than it gives to us.
And why do we do this? Because we are taught that we are suppose to work.
Now this term work is somthing that means more than just doing a job.
It means that what you do with the major portion of your life after you hit a certian age will be done in a way that will provide barely enough, if that so that you can keep doing it until you are so worn out, so burned out so exausted that anything left is spent trying to get enough rest so that you can, you guessed it, keep doing it.
If I must work at something, I want that something to bring quality of life to me so that I can enjoy being alive.
I don't want to spend my life account for something that makes me angry, or frustrated, or near starvation in every sense of the word.
So the question remains, what are you spending your life on?
Two sides of the same coin. Each side with definite markings that define them.
If you lay the coin on it's edge does that mean that you have chosen both?
I find two sided things often exist within the same frame work.
Positive and negative is one expression of that.
And the choices we make along the way have two sides to them and sometimes we end up choosing both.
While looking for a way to justify both.
Basicly making sure that all bases are covered.
Even in sleep there are times when we can be awake and asleep at the same time.
Loosing time in that space, or rather a place where time doesn't register.
I'm thinking again...
The trees are almost alseep now. Bare bones of their former expression of color and life.
And the fragments of their garments now litter thousands of yards.
To someone who only sees the leaves as one more thing that has to be cleaned up I would like
to remind them that leaves on the ground are beautiful.
They dance in the wind and are great for jumping into when you put them in a big pile.
Something I haven't done in a very long time.
Maybe I should renew my membership to that group. Being older than I was the last time
I did that, I would now make sure there are no sharp sticks and other hard objects besides
the ground before I took the leap into the air with objective being landing in a pile
of color that smells really good.
Have you ever noticed that leaves after they fall smell wonderful.
Kind of like some really heady perfume that sticks in your brain and gets a fresh
infusion every fall.
They are one of natures toys that can magicly transport us back to easier and simplier
times of life.
They fill the world with color, and as the seasons change they have the power to make the
world look like a sunset that has touched down on earth and is here for a few weeks.
In the state where I started life, in the fall they have a thing on some of the stations that
will tell you where the best places are to go to see this event.
The cascade mountians come to mind.
On the east side of the mountians there are lots and lots of trees that become a brilliant display
of yes in the fall.
Like a painter's pallet that makes you stop.
Come to a complete stop and just stand there, or sit there or get out of your car
and want to get completely lost in all that color.
I suspect that the north eastern part of this country is the same way.
It's famous for it's fall display.
So fleeting, so perfect.
Have you ever taken one of thoes bits of beauty into your hands and really looked at it?
If it's done early enough in the season the leaf feels soft, like skin.
The veins which define the leaf you can run your fingers along without too much fear
that it will disingerate in your hands.
I used to go collecting leaves in the fall. I would have bags of them.
And I would put my face into thoes bags and just breathe.
It's been a couple of years since I did that. Mostly because of life happening and having
to be occupied with more immediate things.
I love the idea of walking down some dirt path strewn with leaves. It makes me dream.
Surrounded by trees that stand there watching me walk through their world,
and when the wind comes up, it's like their smile dancing around me.
I find myself sometimes in thoes moments wishing there was a pond near by so I could
find a not too damp place to settle down on and just be there.
Hiding away from the noise of modern life, and just take some time to just be.
Time looses it's normal frame of reference there. It just melts away and the only things
that are important are do you have a coat or blanket that you can snuggle into so you
can stay longer?
And if you stay until sunset, make sure you know your way back to the house or your car.
If not take a compas and a flashlight so you can see where your going.
Besides leaves, there are other treasures of this season which is now winding down, that
make it my absoult favorite one.
The mushrooms that come in the fall. Little magic houses that sit on the ground.
I'm very sure that they are the doorways to the woodland creatures that are very
rarely with in human sight.
Spites and faries and gnoms and elves, and other strange and beautiful creatures.
I'd love to come upon a group of faries playing.
I'd try to be very still so they wouldn't notice me and just go on about the business
To dream, and dream again. That's what I want this morning....and the company of
faries to talk about stuff with.
It's late. And I can feel sleep slowly decending on me like a warm blanket.
I'm thinking about family tonight.
The family we get by choice.
Sometimes we're related to them, if we are so lucky to have that experience.
But it's the one's that life brings our way that are the one's we miss the most when they arn't around us.
They bring things to our lives that are uniquely them.
And that makes them rare and beautiful.
Gifts that we get to take with us our whole lives.
Sometimes it's hard to find family in all the sea of fimliarity
of people who surround us every day.
We get knocked about alot by people too much in a hurry to do anything but run us over.
But then, every so often, the mass of humanity clears and we see them, or they see us.
And before we know it, someone else has become family.
It grows. And grows. And for that I'm greatful tonight.
The family I've gotten to know, the family I got to have as a gift.
That makes this moment the best one of the day.
This morning, the thoughts from last night are still there.
This vague sense of being like two day old coffee, or one day depending on how useless it is to the coffee addict.
I'm beginning to think that being an artist means along with all the other stuff, that there is this intense feeling of tradgedy that sits on your shoulders and pecks relentlessly at your head.
I'm beginning to think that no matter what else we are, we are prone to major bouts of depression anger, lonelyness and self abuse.
We feel so intensely the moments that are brilliant that the fall is way too high not to get smashed up from.
But looking at it. It's worth it.
I can say that because the end result is the work that gets birthed out of that place.
I think about all the geniuses of the past who created the things we look at and go wow to and want to grab hold of and keep tight to our chest, as if to find some deep loving warmth with in thoes things.
I think they felt exactly what we do and it didn't matter.
They were as driven as we are now.
And were destine to feel such intense things so that they could create thoes peices of wow that make people have mental orgasams.
I'm also of a mind to think that in this world of over priced plastic life we are more depressed and more sucidal off and on than our genius forfathers.
And we are more desperately seeking someone who can touch us and make us know that we are real.
I know this is true for myself anyway.
I would love to know that I'm real inside this skin all the time.
Instead of feeling it on rare occasions.
I love my art.
But sometimes I wish it were human and could reach out and grab me with such intense hands that all I would feel is this deep gutral primal scream of every thing well up in me and end up blasting out of every pore in my body.
I would love to have it rip me to peices and then put me back together with a smile on it's face.
I would love to feel it look at me with such intense hunger in it's eyes and wisper things that you just lay there and shake at because it's like being plugged into a transformer waiting for someone to switch on the connection so that you end up blowing up like some star going super nova.
I wish my art were human, instead of just a reflection of my soul.
Maybe then I wouldn't go through the emotional bulshit that beats me up.
And sits there reminding me of why I'm here.