Someone Left the Cake Out in the Snow

As those of us in the midwestern part of the continent un-bury our selves from the most overhyped marmotian experience of these new decade, I've found myself at the proverbial crossroads.  As I typed that, I could hear the haunting tears of Stevie Ray Vaughn spinning in my ears, but that is in fact Crossfire, not Crossroads...  :D   

My gait is back.  I am functioning somewhat normally again.  Grace to the amazing recuperative powers of my spirit, that I am so resilient to traumas that I leap back to my feet as quick as a whip.  Or, maybe, just maybe, I've had too much practice.  That sensation, of too much practice, is at the nexus of my ponderous state.  I know that being humbled, being made to be accountable to my emotions, to being present, in the moment, is the very salvation I seek.  That sense of connection with myself, my feelings, my heart so to speak, is all that I want to get out of life at this point, because the outcome is a tangible, meaningful life, rescued from the pinholes of the camera obscura I try to live my life through.    

I've been working hard in these past weeks, to be aware, to be conscious to be mindful.  But I don't want to lose this.  I am desperate in some senses to not losing this.  I am nothing without my brain and my brain is wasted living without my feelings.   So, I want to keep working, to make better my heart, for my wife and all that she's invested, for my kids and their innocent adulation of their Dad and mostly for me, to not hurt anymore, like I have.  

Depression, and self-pity.  They leave me at less than a millifraction of life.  In the next day or so, I am going to try to have a garage sale.  I am offering up a bunch of traumas and hurt I don't need anymore to the lowest bidder.  I will be marking all of my hell at prices that can't be refused.  I am more than willing to haggle and will be offering package deals.  It has a time in the process and it is coming.