Morning Meditations #71: I am Your Environment

MM 71
This is a dreamy scene, but there is still something I would enjoy missing from my life. Making the best lemonade these days.

A good night of music and Jägermeister with Perry went down last evening. Been a while since safety meetings and song writing. I really hope there is more of that on the way. Not that I’m trying to relive any of the old days, or willing to neglect this time of honing my writing as a primary art form, but the medicinal qualities to writing a couple of songs a year with my musical partner in crime need to be examined and considered. All data seems to point toward positive results.

Didn’t manage to get to the 4k mark yesterday, but with the words I did lay down, I made my first five day period with 1k a day in three weeks. This means I am way behind my current streak that I began a little more than a month ago. Nothing to ashamed of as it still puts me over 20k in a month. If that is all I ever did with my writing I would still compose 240k a year and write over a million words every five years. No, the emotion I feel in concert with my commitment to my arts is nothing short of amazement. I am always amazed with what we are each capable of when we commit to something. I learned this joy early with drums.

I would practice four hours a day during those formative years—taping up torn blisters and playing through the pain were great joys to my young mind. Evidence I would stop at nothing to play at the highest level possible.

The thousand words a day challenge works very similar to the four hour practice sessions. And similarly to early drumming practices, which I recorded regularly, publishing much of my writing publicly lets me have a version of playback (I know I talk about this often, but bear with me, please). When I go back and read my writing I can see my growth, changes, and moods in a tangible way. I can revisit those states of mind through the words on a screen. “Tape doesn’t lie,” and neither does the text on a page; the words may be fiction but the person composing them is not, and he is what I am really after when I write. I can reflect on new techniques and ways of communicating, which do translate to who I was thorugh any given piece. I say it like that because as we are all in constant state of evolution and adaptive processes. This gives me a tool, indeed many tools, for conditioning my mind, thoughts, feelings, self-evaluations, and ultimately the choices my mind will make. And, as I am a part of the environment for all of my loved ones, the choices I make will effect them more than they will effect me from a quantitative perspective. This is a huge responsibility I have underestimated far too much.

I mean, most of us know that we effect others, but to step back and consider yourself as intrinsic as a mountain range to the people in your life, and everyone we’ll ever meet, has given me a new method of mirroring—of seeing my self in truth and as a data set for which all of you must deal. Fuck, even if you don’t know me at all, I may still influence people that you know thus making me an uncontrollable force on the planet with potential to harm or help. I could say the “choice is mine,” but seeing how we all make bad decisions from time to time, that brings me no solace. Rather, I would like to be responsible for how my brain will be when a choice needs to be made. Statistically, those are better odds for favorable event, and concerning me, it all starts with a thousand words a day.


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