4th of July

This is how I’d like to remember Michael. Him and his sail and inventiveness. Him and his dog. Him waiting for the wind to blow him across Humboldt Bay. I recently sold this boat, thanks to Richard Roth and the guy wanted to buy the sail… but will he ever be able to figure out how to stabilize it with all the rigging? Looks simple, but its not. Last Fourth of July, when the barn was still a dusty open place, Michael spent hours figuring out the mast, stabilization etc for this sail. He was at it when I rode my bike over to the fireworks.

Another summer memory that hits me daily is when he put buoys across the creek so no child would be swept downstream. I watched him carefully measure the distance between the floats on the rope while a friend and I sat and lazily watched him while we chatted. His long arms, his even movements… even with neuropathy in his hands and feet he wouldn’t be rushed.

I started on anti-depressants thinking the tooth ache of thinking about Michael all the time and feeling so flattened, so isolated  and so dull would be helped. I tried them at half strength for 6 days while I went down to Las Vegas for our Creech arrest arraignment but that turned out to be so hot and stressful (in an unexpected interpersonal way,) that I went from one unhealthy state of mind to a new one… that of  stuckness in a whole new venue.

Orien has been here since I got back so today is the first day back to that old patterned self I’ve felt oppressed by. (She went to the Bay Area.) My meditation retreat last month helped me feel into the rich earth of the grief and lift the attachment to the immobilized place by reopening my aliveness and I felt again when I went off the anti-depressant that I could handle my dysphoric flat line better but now I think maybe I better retreat back into the chemistry. Example, today I was at Farmers Market and two proposals went out among friends while I was standing there that did not include me… just between couples, a date for tonight and a river date . If I wasn’t so unsure or diminished I would have invited myself but I just shrunk away and felt the drain open and surrendered to feeling awful. It takes active willing to push the negative feelings back and I lose that will pretty easily.

The heat now is bending me to slowness. I want to be healthy and want to meditate and those are two goals I can apply myself to. I also want to find meaning for my time here on planet earth.. to pursue those things that Freedom implies… I have just about everything anyone could want and yet can’t feel joy but I know that many people don’t have the basics I had- a comfortable upbringing, decent schooling, a secure family environment, a good job with adequate benefits and now the risks of climate change, violence, discrimination (you know this list as well as I do,) well, I want to direct my efforts in a systematic way to addressing what I can. I think a job is what I need and I’m going to start looking at how I can give consistently. I don’t have the will or the mental capacity to initiate and maintain  my own actions but I can and should use what I have been given for the greater Good if I can find a plug in. Plus, now I know this state of mind isn’t lifting anytime soon so I have to prepare for the shorter days so I just don’t end up watching life go by via endless media couch potato-ing, which makes me feel just awful!

I haven’t even had the gumption to write here on the blog so I guess this time, that I didn’t know was coming, has been the worst just as the times before that were the worst. I’ve had good times in between but nothing sustains or maintains… it is like spiritual anemia. That said, there is much work being done by many good people. Hosting the radio (Peace and Justice show http://www.kzfr.org for the last show archives) has been one little life line and now I get to play with my little inner lawyer as I prepare for my October trial (for the March Creech protest.) One thing about that, I’m unrepentant and want the war crimes of drone murders put on trial and will learn the lingo of the court even as I can’t retain any of it… notes and more notes… I’m 68 now…older than Michael who was nine months dead on my birthday. The “estimated date of confinement” and normal human gestational period have been breached so the next memorium is the one year mark.

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