here's your test results, mr. peterson.

a line i really hated hearing from my public school/university professors. i was always concerned with how much red there would be on the paper. and there was usually more than i imagined there would be.

the algebra professor would click his red sharpie in a gratiuitious manner, and smile a tooth-filled-smile at the class. as a class full of non-traditional students, we'd seen worse than whatever this space cowboy could dish out.

the writing professor would send calm, margin-sized comments on papers concerning run-on sentences and improper syntax. and then she'd grade you on your effort, not as much on your performance.

the lit teacher in high school who would privately chew me out for "choosing the wrong friends" (the skater kids) while he would not-so-surrepticiously hit on said skater boys.

and now. on a parenting advice forum, i get the same red marks. apparently, i'm a terrible father figure because i don't set boundaries. i'm not following the traditional male family role model, apparently. good. this is by design. i'm pretty sure the model involves (literally? figuratively?) dragging kills into the cave and beating one's family into emotional and physical submission.

"I suggest you start setting up some boundaries now before it gets completely out of control later on. You and your partner need to sit down and figure out what your own personal boundaries are, then teach that to your child. How is a child going to learn about boundaries if you don’t have any?"

i choose compassion. and understanding. ever the struggle to evolve, i choose to abandon a typical archetype in that the family father should rule by default, silent until provoked into violence, through word, thought, or deed. it was a simple choice for me. i choose to use my mind instead of angry reaction. still sometimes, this isn't enough for some people. or alternately, it's too much. maybe some parents are so instilled in their own painful upbringing that they continue simply because it's their turn to say "because i said so!" with a sharp swat.

uh, yeah. i hope my beloved english professor (how i miss you, mrs. blackford) will never have to endure the upcoming paragraph:

so, we live in a no-boundary free-form household. and it's fun. and it's annoying. and it's exhilirating. and exhausting. sometimes it smells like dirty socks. sometimes it smells like candles and incense. sometimes it smells like baked lasagna. sometimes it's filthy, with candy wrappers stuck to the floor. sometimes, it's clean, like the scent of fresh dishes out of the machine. sometimes the wrong item goes through the dryer. most of the time the -right- items go through the dryer. there's some questions. and some answers. some cohesive, some not. sometimes i accept the open rejection. sometimes i reject the open acceptance. sometimes it seems like it really is working. sometimes it seems like it really isn't. sometimes there is stability. sometimes there isn't. sometimes it drives me fucking crazy. sometimes i'm so in love i'm a total dork, all the way down. sometimes i miss my batchellor life. most of the time i don't. sometimes i wish i could truly speak openly to TFG, when most of the time i can't. and now, the house is about to be filled to the teeth with people, with loud happy jabbering, loud happy conversations, loud happy loud happy loud happy loud happy ad infinitum.

...and i'll squirm with uncomfortability. i'll greet the few that i have come to adore, smile, and then probably find quick excuses leave often, with little notice in passing from the crowd of loud happy loud happy loud happy loud happy loud happy ad infinitum. who am i to voice my uncomfortability with the close proximity of a sea of faces, some new old friends, some new new friends?

"where is my out in this situation?"

"you don't have one." *wink*

ah yes. still- i'm a person. with feelings. and strengths. and weaknesses. know thyself.

i have knowledge. i am learning. friday i received a formal write-up from both my new boss and my new girlfriend on the same day... and i started to wonder if i really had made a giant mistake with my life. the universe really does seem to save up for the day that it slings the shit at the fan that's pointing at you.

often to my own detriment, i have an instinctual need to put others first. for some unknowable reason, it's a continuing mantra for me. care about how others feel, especially those close to you. dote on them. ask them about their day. concern yourself with their lives. hope for the best for them. show them, through action and verse, that they matter to you. over the years i've learned that a lot of folks love to have an outlet to bitch, and will certainly honor you if you offer that service- but rarely will they return the favor. and that's too bad, really. one can learn bunches about yourself and your own internal mirror if you take the time to closely listen to those who could use a good rant. (watch them, after they've had this opportunity. watch the stress leave them, dissapated.)

when you concern yourself so much with the feelings and hopes and ideas of others, you can really lose track of ...you. i had always imagined that a family dynamic wouldn't dilute one's personal solution, rather simply mix it in with equal parts of other solutions. so, here's to me. the non-boundary setting failure of a father figure. the sock-flinging, overwhelming love partner. the gross mismanager of playlists. the worrier. the planner. the thinker. the person. the human.

and, here's to patience *lifts glass*. here's to building a background grid through which one can better understand the infinite chaos that is the universe, from the galactic level to the familial level.

and here's to you, dear reader, for listening without judgement as i pre-empt your permission to allow me to bitch for a while. thank you.

the gift of peace and security, wrapped in chaos

am i the luckiest thirty-something lefse-influenced newly-installed-to-the-Valley post-angst Gen X overthinker on the planet? i'm beginning to believe so. take the events of a few hours in my today, for instance. for clarity, i'll provide the play-by-play in a screen script format, to give the narrator more voice.

*begin scene*

Subject S huddles over the glow of a tablet computer in the far corner of the house he's just moved into. S is worried, as per usual. Today's flavor of worry isn't a new one, but the subgenus species is. it's car insurance. S's policy expires today, and after doing some research online, has chosen a company and policy which best suits the needs for himself and his new family. normally, S wouldn't devote so much emotion to a need as mundane as vehicle insurance, when other bills are further behind. the caveat is that since the car is financed, the insurance isn't optional, even to operate outside of the law. the car must be insured. and S is out of options, and money.

The love of S's life, TFG, wanders out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, damp, and trailing the finest ambient perfume shop scent imaginable behind her as she moves. her long, violently red hair is wet. she's as sexy as hell on a stick, and her being momentarily unaware of her sexy quotient only makes her that more desirable. unfortunately, S barely notices. he lamely inquires about availablilty of funds in a long-unused online account.

S: Hey. is there anything left in your paypal account? this insurance company accepts paypal.
TFG: nope.
S: okay. It's just that i think the old policy expires today. and we'll really screw over Alex if we can't insure the snarfler.

TFG peruses the screen, and steps up to leave the room. with a headache looming, S follows her. TFG pulls out a bank card out of her wallet.

TFG: here ya go. i'll cover the insurance until we can figure everything else out. we can pay the bill when we've got more money.

TFG wanders into the far bedroom and finalizes the insurance purchase with a moment at the screen. S realizes the cosmic erasure of worry that lives with him in his new home. it is her. she is the eraser. S catches a glimpse of something amazing. not outwardly, but inward. the fear has been banished by courage, and a touch of real-world crisis solution in action has unfolded in front of him. he's just seen an offhand display of trust and love. and instantaneous problem solving.

Later. S is goofing off in the driveway with TFG's son, TBB. TFG pulls up in the family van, and kills the engine. She, the eraser of worry, has arrived home from work early. laden with library books, animal welfare literature for TBB, she slings a pizza from the local NY pizza joint.

S slaps himself in the head. his realization -that this amazing person, this, the girl he loves, this beautiful woman who has chosen him to share her life with, this singular individual who is always mindful of the needs of her family- hits him months too late.

S drives 45 minutes to work a short time later. with the gift accompanying him.

*end scene*

the perfect gift for a worried pragmatist. a gift of serenity. of security. a gift of a lesson learned.



how odd, the universe, and the incomprehensible workings thereof.
thank you. for the whole damn thing. i'm loving it.

Communication is essential towards progression.

some blurbs, for your perusal, from the only thought collective cult that's ever caught and held my fancy for any period of time. i've loosely followed the ideas behind this collective for ten years or more. the actual list has dissolved, but these people are still out there. and i'm still here. and i'm grateful for sharing myself with them, and learning from them. thanks to the Process for helping to wake a confused and directionless twentysomething all those years ago.

a statement of denial of power, and therefore, control:

The Process, as an entity, does not encourage the individuals who subscribe to its ideology to pay homage to the people who exist to organize and promote the Processian ideal. Worship of another diffuses the will of the individual.

a statement of the recognition of the state of the world's leading religions. pay special attention to the statement regarding bias:

On one level we can draw some relation to the Tibetan concept of The Path of No Distinction. Within most organized belief systems there tends to be a bias construct which leads the believer to regard his or her path as the one true path. We encourage that the belief system is not the issue, in this case, it is the 'purity of path' itself which garners the utmost importance. The individual is true to the self, his or her internal direction (self directed instinct). The path transcends definition by attaining 'purity of cause'. The categorization or attempt to define the structure is secondary to its purpose as an effective interpersonal vehicle.

on communication, which is the center of all focus for this widely scattered chorus of thinkers:

It is not the aim of The Process to cultivate a following. It is however, our desire to initiate a vast networked collaborative effort. An effort focused on multi-faceted philosophical studies and artistic interaction. We strongly believe in networking artists who are devoted to the promotion of 'Media Literacy', building effective, honest models of communication. Understanding and therefore defusing destructive commercial archetypes (know thine enemy).

on inclusion, and the denial of exclusion, regardless of one's gender, belief system, job, education level, or any other distinction box that people love to classify themselves into:

Pure science has typically been as segregated as the plethora of belief systems which exist on our planet. Telecommunications technology has a way of throwing a kind of monkey wrench into this academic machine. The ability to efficiently cross reference large amounts of data, from what may have traditionally been viewed as unrelated fields, has had a rather anarchistic effect on the political structures of academia. There is, and should be, a movement towards blending science with art, western medicine with eastern holistics, philosophy with physics....the list goes on. We have nothing to lose, but everything to gain by bringing strong minds from many intellectual fronts into the same arena. Although this concept in itself is not a new one, we now have far better tools to facilitate it.

on expansion of one's vision:

In the same way the Process realizes that different belief structures are indeed different models, or tools, which enable us to further ourselves in the interpersonal arena. Taking a multi-disciplinary stance at a philosophical level one opens the self to a variety of new concepts, structures and tools to further define one's own path.

some statements of those who have contributed, and why they still inspire me. to think, to question, to analyze. to listen. to share. to learn from others. to trust that they have pure intent, in the sharing of themselves before a non-judgemental group of fellow learners and listeners.

"act before you think, but always think, always analyze, and figure out how to improve your situation. As an artist I know the importance of instinct tempered with thought, as well as the importance of being able to critique your own life."

"Sometimes it's so easy to forget the past. To sit in the comfortable sanctuary of the present, so afraid of the future, with the past a dull throb in your head. I like the words of Father Malachi; 'No fear, except the fear of leaving...'"

"I consider myself to be a part of The Process as i dont believe in any set religion/belief system in particular ("No culture has a monopoly on beauty or value....Just as no religion has a monopoly on truth." --Voltaire), but i am aware of certain aspects from almost every reilgion/belief system that i apply to my daily life. but, if i had to pick one aspect that i use more than others, it would have to be the power of the mind and the wonders it can do when not subconsciously influeneced by various thought impediments-->ex. TV, the government, controlling people, etc, etc..."

"Its sum being greater than the parts, The Process serves as a sounding board for ideas, provoking thought which may under other circumstances never have been given the right "culture" in which to form and grow. Thus the The Process is a growing, living organism whose form is a result of the collection of "cells" within it, as in any biological organism. The analogy with the natural world is of direct significance. All life operates within a set environment or eco-system, but its very presence is an integral part of that system. If any one species grows it is at the cost of another, and if any "external force" is introduced the balance can be forever altered with the possibility of collapse (as in the demise of rainforest lands every day)"

why am i not surprised that the idea/conception of this group of thinkers had its genesis in Canada? man, i sure do love Canada and the lovely intellectual and cerebral people who live there.

...and, here it is.

... the rainy season.

It's been raining for several days now. the locals tell me that it will continue, on and off, for months. we're now in the "rainy season". it has made the commute more interesting, seeing green in the fields of the Willamette Valley, rather than the golds and browns and the long, spirals of dust following the tractors in the fields that were so prevalent when i arrived. there are, even in the second week of October, enough colors to keep my sensory overload overloaded.
bright flashes of true reds, oranges, yellows, golds, and greens fill the senses. the greens! there are too many to describe, and too full is the palette to occur anywhere but in nature, and too poor is my vocabulary to attempt anything other than a bland, vanilla description. the air is clean. the weather we're experiencing today (80MPH winds at the coast) is what the station's meteorologist describes as the remnants of a cyclonic series of storms that recently affected China. very cool.

normally, i'm not affected emotionally by the weather (having received an education at the behest of the harsh prevailing northwest winds of the winter prairie). this week has been one of change, and all that encompasses it. things are new and exciting and joyful and fun and scary. we're learning how to live together, as this change in our environment has been more than an acid test to be viewed clinically, in a detached methodology.

i've been down for a few days. worries about life, love, ineptitude, and concern with money. i don't like to worry about money. or ineptitude. or anything. and trying to catch up financially is futile in the near-short term. we're going to be broke for a while. and that stinks. but what is thr root, really? what is it that a vacuum void of money removes? it's the short term lack of stability that really grinds against my sense of "everything's okay". TFG doesn't dwell on these worries. she lives in the now. there is no concern for tomorrow, as that day will take shape on its own and provide its own challenges and rewards. sometimes i wish i could be as ethereal.

instead, i proscribe for the reality of life around us. yesterday, today, and tomorrow. i understood on the cusp of this voyage and transport that life as i had known it would pretty much upend in its entirety. and now we're experiencing the lack of stability that living in one place for twenty years can provide. it's exciting, and fearful. it's probably what really living feels like, and it's most likely an unfamiliar feeling considering the previous stagnation. while i recognize that i am now in a position to make a series of fantastic changes in my life, part of me yet longs for the clarity of mindless repetition that living in the midwest brought forward. i'm on the verge of becoming a whole new me. and it's okay. it's just new and unnerving.

and sometimes, like today, it's depressing. we don't have a bed yet. so we sleep where ever we collapse. We've discussed our new bed, out there somewhere, hopefully not being manufactured in an asian nation where the employees are under the gun. this new bed will be the first 'luxury item' on our list of things to acquire and accomplish. something that will be top notch, carefully researched and paid for in full; and TFG doesn't even have to produce any healthy children for me to earn it. it's so very important to me to handle this for TFG and I. as much as gender roles chap my ass ( i'll delve into this concept deeply someday, and possibly provide some fodder for discussion, dear reader, of their pre-determined dead-end obsolecense in a world of thoughtful evolution rather than of unthinking brutish animalism and emotional regression), i find myself in conflict about this one.

Charles Ingalls provided a bed and a house for Caroline in the wilds of Minnesota. I should be able to provide the same for TFG. and i will. obsolete role modeling aside. this is something i can do for my new mate, and myself. if we were entirely androgynous, i would still do this for my partner. there! i've just tossed that conflict aside, right before your eyes, dear reader.

so, someday it will stop raining. (even if there's no such thing as tomorrow.)

someday, we'll have some fiscal freedom. (even if we have the things we need to survive today.)

someday, we'll sleep, warm in our new bed, while the cold wind blows outside. (even if we have to sleep on the floor in separate rooms during the now.)

my secret.

i'm going to buy the new book from postsecret.
maybe i'll send them a card. maybe i already have. i'll never tell.

updates: TFG, TBB, and the Calico are alive, well, and travelling slowly. tonight they're at the top of the Montana Rockies, and at daylight will descend through Idaho and obnoxiously gorgeous Coeur D'alene. south of Spokane, friends are waiting to receive them, and give of their space and selves. thank you, friends.

the Calico is tolerating the travel well, minus pooping in TBB's Amish straw hat. the van is tolerating the travel well, minus a gasoline cap left in forgotyername, Montana. a group of people helped TFG navigate out from a near-jackknife maneouver in a gas station parking lot; they then applaud her as she successfully pilots out of the lot. man, i love this girl.

the next phase is along the mighty Columbia River Gorge.

the big transition

as i write, The Fabulous Girlfriend and the Beautiful boy are on their way West, loaded down with three-plus' lifetimes worth of stuff. a family's worth of stuff. not counting the stuff we left behind, donated or threw away. a van, a trailer, treasured things, and three most important souls. my heart is on the road with them.

TFG and TBB did this loading, and are doing this moving. With a select few helpers ushering and cheerleading and humping boxes up the stairs, they are leaving their old lives behind to join me and dear friends here in the beautiful PNW. With the wind of your positive energy giving them the necessary tailwind to guide and drive us.

Thank you, to all of those of you who have helped us make this once-distant and highly improbable dream a reality. It is because of your encouragement and positivity and graciousness that we've been able to pull this whole thing off.

They'll arrive after a few days on the road. and then, we'll move into our new address; the three of Us, the Calico, and the Memories of those who couldn't make the move with us physically, and yet will be there nonetheless, alongside us. in a new physical environment which will be most conducive to our lives, free from the cynical judgement of our previous environment.

so, i'll post updates while they travel as they become available. and then they'll arrive. and then we'll start our new lives together. une famille nouveau.

merci.