Burning Journals

I can spend a fair bit of time with my head stuck so far up my ass that I actually think I can see out!  That's how I would describe the last coupla months (aka the dark season). As the equinox approaches (we're five weeks out!) I can only apologize for my absence--'cause when I'm in there, I'm in deep.

Look, I just threw three journals (from 1992-1995) into the wood stove. And that's just the start...

I don't want to be reminded of all those mistakes and misdemeanours and miss what-ever-her-name-is... I mean, like Jewel sings, "to be forgiven you must first believe in sin." I believe that I've always been doing my best. Didn't/doesn't always look/feel good/great, but that's just the realness of it. Probably the best skill I'm learning is to say more, and write less, to live more and dream less, to have more fun and fewer fantasies.

I watch my kids (and kids in general, oh and people too, and me...). Oh, boy oh boy, do they (we) ever have a lot to learn! Do they (we) ever have a long way to go. So fuck it, let's just do our best and ride it hard and get back wet.