Wednesday, October 16, 2019
The truth of it...
The warming glow of the pit fire, the smell of cigar smoke on the wind, the sound of live music pouring over us, warming our thoughts and souls and the warm tickle of alcohol working to finish etching the grandest tapestries of our lives into our memories. It's not any one of those components but a subtle combination of them that constructs an enchanted evening. That is, if one just allows them to wash those tough mental callouses that have built up over the long and trying week-filled with joys and disappointments-and start the gentle healing that only comes with a social engagement.
Walking the rail...
Sometime in the last year or so I embarked on a journey I wasn't quite aware I was beginning. The starting point was unclear and most assuredly the destination is mostly a fucking mystery. Yes, at certain points I was made aware of forward motion on some path; in my case, a length of steel rail. Sometimes the length has been rusty and covered in weeds. Other times I could still smell the oil from the wheels and feel the lingering vibrations; rejoining the forward motion after a brief and necessary pause to get out of the way of a locomotive pulling a train carrying someone's precious cargo.
This is a literal and figurative progression that has become a vital part of my life. I'm a traveler but mostly to places in my mind. My imagination whisks me away while my feet take me further down a length of steel rail-until I turn around and walk down the other side; successfully giving myself a north, south east or west-bound perspective on whatever might be troubling me. Unlike the winds of change, the rail is unforgiving. It's a constant. It can hold you up but like any balancing act, it can just as quickly become your worst enemy. It will, inevitable, throw you aside and cackle like an idiot as you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and (hopefully) try again.
Eventually, as with all things we dedicate time to and practice, I have become much more balanced in both my emotional life and walking on the rail. It requires time, patience and a knack for landing gracefully for a while until you learn how to hold yourself in just the right position. Then, of course, you move forward. I'm personally envious of the acrobatic tight-rope walkers of the world. But, who knows, maybe they are just as envious of me?
Thank you for taking a moment and allowing me to introduce you to a concept and a journey that has become near and dear to me. I've loved trains ever since I was a young child. The mystery, history and allure of the steel rail has always held an appeal for me Even as so many years have been added to the life of that small child, the love has remained. I will sit sometimes now, in wonderment, as I first listen to and then watch a locomotive and its train go by. Especially on those slow days where the engineer has dialed back his speed and lazily makes his way to the next destination.
Following now are journal entries written either about or as a consequence of this unique perspective journey. What is this journey you've maybe been asking? Partly finding myself. Partly discovering what I want out of life. Partly who I am looking for to walk beside me. Preferably on a steel rail and on into the future...
This is a literal and figurative progression that has become a vital part of my life. I'm a traveler but mostly to places in my mind. My imagination whisks me away while my feet take me further down a length of steel rail-until I turn around and walk down the other side; successfully giving myself a north, south east or west-bound perspective on whatever might be troubling me. Unlike the winds of change, the rail is unforgiving. It's a constant. It can hold you up but like any balancing act, it can just as quickly become your worst enemy. It will, inevitable, throw you aside and cackle like an idiot as you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and (hopefully) try again.
Eventually, as with all things we dedicate time to and practice, I have become much more balanced in both my emotional life and walking on the rail. It requires time, patience and a knack for landing gracefully for a while until you learn how to hold yourself in just the right position. Then, of course, you move forward. I'm personally envious of the acrobatic tight-rope walkers of the world. But, who knows, maybe they are just as envious of me?
Thank you for taking a moment and allowing me to introduce you to a concept and a journey that has become near and dear to me. I've loved trains ever since I was a young child. The mystery, history and allure of the steel rail has always held an appeal for me Even as so many years have been added to the life of that small child, the love has remained. I will sit sometimes now, in wonderment, as I first listen to and then watch a locomotive and its train go by. Especially on those slow days where the engineer has dialed back his speed and lazily makes his way to the next destination.
Following now are journal entries written either about or as a consequence of this unique perspective journey. What is this journey you've maybe been asking? Partly finding myself. Partly discovering what I want out of life. Partly who I am looking for to walk beside me. Preferably on a steel rail and on into the future...
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