Face The F-Forward
You mean the world to me, ’litrilly. Hundreds of you would come before my own breath continuance, if and when I am faced with such dire you-in-trouble-up-to-your-eyeballs straits, not joking. And to clarify, no I do not elevate you on a shelf above, no, I would do the same for a sister or brother stranger not linked to me electronically, so sorry…nothing personal. Somewhat because I majorly contributed to a drowning in my teens do I claim this, alongside my many other related juvenile actions gone astray. Johnny Powell would have never died in Lake Roland so long ago that sunny summer afternoon if not for me, no way never. So, I do what I can to help others, damn the tax or toll paid. Oh sure I cockily claim my lay-it-on-the-line boldness, but if and when factually faced with such split-second alternative, I do believe I would push you out of the way and lean into the speeding truck myself.
If not putting others first, I am oriented erroneously, by my measure…just sayin’.
Frick to the negative, not sacrificially would I pose as substitute high-speed hood ornament, no…no I am not trying to trip and fall upon my own sword as balanced retribution from past times, but rather doing what I can for you and yours with my afforded to-come days.
I try to wear my best smile, however it be my upturned frown is at times forced. And yes of course, duh…for sure to say, I am not unique in this circumstance. Honestly, my fixed-up smirk is layered atop my unsound foundational footers that arrived cracked from the factory. No, this does not leave me broken, this does not find me cowering hiding or blaming, no not at all, but rather affords me a lens to consider crystal clearly the bright side of life alongside the dark. Again, and like us all, sometimes such Ying-Yang hurt-pleasure plays out on the life stage simultaneously.
Alas, not always am I aligned properly. Sometimes I’m neither adequately prepared for the challenge, nor do I at-time possess the willingness to follow through with the action as desired. Here now two critical life learnings…those within named to position myself correctly, awhile utilized to get more Bird shit done, than not done.
One: Run What You Brung. My father died about 15 years ago with loving family nearby, then my mom died four years later tragically all alone. My youthful years were challenging by my measure, yet regardless here I am, vertical smiling on the outside and trying my damn best to keep going on the inside…run what you brung. My dearest friend Jackie Hering is one of the most amazing humans I know. Awhile being a loving and giving friend, superstar mom of two adorable kiddos, dream wife to her hubby Mark, and one of the fastest 70.3 pro triathletes in the world, Jackie busts her butt on the outside, regardless of her pain on the inside…run what you brung. Although I do know what it’s like to physically lose a parent to poor mental health, I do NOT know what it’s like to physically lose a parent to suicide, but Jackie does. Last week Jackie was facing a mountainous competition, and just prior to her St. George race she regrouped, online citing my legacy quote and thanking me for the valuable share, thus facing her raceday with a somewhat eased attitude…run what you brung.
I try to arrive as the comprehensively truthful me, I try to show up as I am, run what you brung…I try to celebrate wildly my quirks, more the better, my scars, more the better, and my imperfections, more the fricking better, aka the weirder the better.
My fear is being normal, aka acting as someone I am not, aka a lie.
Run what you brung…an old hotrod car racing phrase meaning to just participate anyway, regardless of the condition of our equipment. Originally addressing the dilemma of competitors when something on the car breaks yet the machine still runs and rolls. Although the collective racecar might not be in ideal shape, we should run it anyway and keep racing because of the gained education by practicing and experimenting, even with less-than-ideal equipment or conditions. A phrase I believe is hyper-applicable to me and my world, yes-yes…accepting the truth of change and my need to remain open and fluidly-flexible to whatever arrives next.
“Run what you brung” I have said numerous times out loud, reminding myself to just go and keep going until physically forced to stop. Including when something on my bike or motorcycle breaks, when the weather warms a little too much on the ski trail and the snow is now slow, or when I discover a sticky wheel bearing right before starting an inline skate race. I have said this phrase at work, within romantic relationships, while traveling, amongst friends like Jackie, and hah…even after starting a drag-racing run when the rear wheels break traction, sending the car somewhat sideways, then I feather the accelerator slightly and keep my foot slammed on full gas anyway, thinking I will get it straightened out before hitting the concrete wall…run what you brung.
Two: I Will and Can, Only Try. Excuse me Master Yoda, I need to drop this your class. I somehow landed here in the wrong Jedi training group, so sorry. My buddy Michael Goss is a spectacular dude. Michael leads with his heart, shares openly, laughs wildly, and lives fully. Yet like for most all of us willing to admit it, Michael shared with me last week that he’s trying his best. Now then, that word, that funny little three-letter word, that word…try.
To try…maybe the word try does not sound reassuring to you.
Maybe the word try prances around dressed-up or disguised as unaccountable risk, risk to not arrive where intended.
Maybe to try sounds weak to you, unsure, or uncommitted. For me, I only try, because after immeasurable challenging situations, I have experimented and learned to know this as my own truth…there is only try. I try because otherwise, I am dealing in the mixed-up and fabricated world of unrealistic absolutes, period.
I screw shit up all the damn time and there are certainly many more fuck ups to come. Through the while and by my bird measure, emphatically I am diametrically opposed to the notion there is no try. To and for me, resoundingly, try is a cornerstone of my truth operating system. Amid my proprietary diction and gabby glossary, when I state with inevitability that I will do, when I promise, when I say with devout certainty most any singular fricking thing, I am lying.
I shared with a beloved gal pal recently my planned intent to do something…ride my bike for an hour so to get my body moving, after almost three weeks stationary writing my addiction book. She said, “There is no try, promise me you will ride your bike today”. Oh boy, I felt sorry for her…she just cracked open a can of terminology worms. I became enthused to explain, and was slightly defensive, but I did not cross the line and she understood my position. We both said we love each other and hung up still friends. I can only promise three things, period, these my concrete certainties.
ONE. I promise I will die.
TWO. I promise everything changes.
THREE. I promise to try my best try.
That’s it, that’s all, because shit unravels often and without pronouncement. If promising to ride my bike like Splendid Staci wanted me to, my words of certainty would be nothing but lies. I cannot promise I actually will ride my bike today, no not any day, I know better. Unexpected crap and priority shifts happen hourly…stuff I did not plan for, did not see coming, or could ever imagine as possible.
Hence my attempted aversion to fixation on results because I hold no Godlike controls, I can reasonably manage only intent, and not any for-certain outcomes beyond my concrete three. This now here a life critical 100…and when doing more of what I say, thus avoiding complete misses, I gain pillaring confidence within my own shoes awhile enhanced emotional stature, or hah…as my beloved addict book Friendwords Joshua Duke Sansing famously says, “Walk tall fuck ‘em all”.
Promising other than my three cemented certainties, I am lying and I know it.
When speaking falsely, when not doing what said or promised, even when speaking to only me, the chipping away of self begins, and eventually I crumble. Aiming to tower taller than my pain, my fear, my aversions, my problems, my addictions, my complacency and my challenges, I factually do so when truthful. When pinned to the deck by hard expectations of outcome, often I break loose and am blown overboard, then left to the shark feeding frenzy of my own falsehoods.
When promising, I frequently create unrealistic expectations likely to blow up and make matters worse. I quickly learned not to promise, not to lie, aka not to promise lies.
Sorry Master Yoda, for me there is no promise to do…I will and can, only try.
