Thursday, April 24

A Heapin' Helping of Life - Indulge

I love it when a conglomeration of ideas come together. On occasion, the universe graciously meets me in the middle, presenting an irresistible opportunity, provided I make a sacrifice. The latest proposition sends me searching for goats, chickens, or semi-coherent blondes as an offering to the gods. Major detours, however, haven’t always been so graceful.

During high school, possibilities and personal potential seemed endless. I was overwhelmed to the point of indecision; thus, explaining premature withdrawal from college—twice. Life seemed far too interesting to limit myself to a classroom. Invited to dine from an elaborate smorgasbord sometimes presents too many choices, and we end up gorging ourselves. Unable to forfeit the consumption of three nationalities in one sitting, we vow to attack the trough differently next time. History, though, inevitably repeats itself.

Fear forces us to recoil in the absence of self control. Safety and predetermined portions become appealing. And eventually, security replaces our sense of adventure. We can consume half an order—no more—of Chili’s chicken fajitas without evidence on the scale; the ramifications of ingesting the jalapeƱo burger with fries . . . unclear. With financial insecurities on the rise, reluctance to spend twenty bucks on an experimental dish does little to satiate our deprived taste buds.

Through the survival of several sketchy situations, I have learned to trust myself. Years of concentrated self-analysis has helped clarify my own desires. Sounds a bit desperate, I know. But I can tell you, without reservation, that chocolate pudding pie will not curb my affinity for chocolate decadence. No one can influence that. The complexity of life altering decisions, however, often require the solicitation of an outside opinion—or two.

With a little soul searching, several conversations, and a very generous boss, I am happy to report that twenty dollars and a couple of goats secured a pretty sweet deal. Stay tuned in the coming weeks as the next adventure unfolds.

Thursday, April 17

Lucky Strikes

Just the other day, a chance at supernatural powers missed me by thirty feet. Had the lightning bolt chosen me over the nearby power line, things might be different today.

Thanks to the ten o’clock news and their quest for drama, countless images of destruction have instilled a healthy respect for Mother Nature. The spectacle generated from a severe thunderstorm is magnificent; sometimes, you just can’t help but watch from the open doorway of a third-floor balcony.

While calculating the distance of a blinding lightning strike, a deafening crack seemed to originate from within my very own eardrums—every electric oscillation was audible. Electric current, or flying debris, found my hand braced against the metal door frame. I humbly watched the rest of the show from deep within the—now—unlit dwelling.

Later, when journeying out in search for an operable wall socket, I found a huge chunk of bark lying on the sidewalk in front of the condo. A nearby tree bared a jagged scar where the bolt scored a line deep into its trunk. Perhaps I did feel debris, or current, or both.

Lucky? I guess. But I can’t shake mild disappointment. I could have become clairvoyant, or gained some other equally impressive talent. Pleased to toss out the likely possibility of mortal wounding or fatality. Instead, I’m left with an insatiable appetite for all things sweet—as usual.

Hindsight exposes intuition we perhaps ignore. Tossing a coin, for example, can provide insight to what we really desire. When the coin comes to rest, you immediately know if you wished for that particular outcome, or not. No, I’m not saying that I will pair heads with swimming next time I hear thunder, but, apparently, one side of my coin is favored.

Perhaps you had a similar experience this week, an “almost”—something that could, and you wished would, have happened? Feel free to shed some light on your change in the comments section below.

Thursday, April 10


As if using the motor skills of Frankenstein himself, this lightning strike carved a jagged incision deep into the tree's trunk.

Thursday, April 3

Exploring the Possibilities

Would you abandon your present life for something completely different? Could you, if given the opportunity, give up the conveniences you’ve spent years creating to nurture a new you? Well, yes! I’ve dreamed of winning the lottery everyday since I was twelve. This scenario, however, does not entail buckets of money. More so, it may require effort—and possibly even sweat—to pursue a stifled alternative.

You might respond—as I did, “it depends.” Damn the ambiguity. Allow me to sharpen the contrast and rid the grey. People relocate and transform for many logical reasons: to help an ailing family member, for their employer, their income fails to support their lifestyle, etc. For sport, we will not use obvious logic.

Imagine, instead, a premeditated shake-down of your personal infrastructure. Only the things that make you unique will remain the same: personality, passions, drive, character flaws, name, etc. You can also keep the people you care to associate with. Everything else is subject to change: your address, job, vehicles, hierarchy, and perhaps even hair color.

If your heart rate increases while pondering this idea, and you have a belly full of butterflies, we can assume the excitement is overwhelming. You—immediately—begin packing your bags, assured that a new game plan is for you. Clearly, then, your answer to the question is, “Yes, I would like to try something different. When do I start?”

Perhaps your mind battles the onslaught of additional questions—questions requiring answers that will only validate your hesitation. You become dizzy, firmly grasping familiar surroundings; your chair feels as though it will collapse under your massive determination to stay in it. Obviously, then, the answer is, “No! Whatever would I do with my geraniums?”

So, tell me, are you happily sowing your oats, or shopping for gain? Feel free to share in the comments section below.