Time

Our society would find itself completely useless without time. Everything we do revolves around it – when we go to bed, when we go to work or school, when we go to a store for basic supplies – nothing is possible without qualifying a time around it.

Time isn’t just limited to a measurement on a clock. Minutes and hours add up to days, months and years. Time can drag on or it can pass by in the blink of an eye and often times it does both at the same time without any of us realizing what has happened.

The last year in the desert has been one of the longest years of my life but it ended all too soon.

I know, sometimes I am a conflict to my own argument.

Since my recent epiphany with feelings they are still bombarding me. Some of the things that were exposed are still like open and raw nerves stinging in the open air.

Christmas reminds me that we are rapidly approaching the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death. It seems like only yesterday that we were coping with the aftermath of that loss. Those years seem to have passed by in a nanosecond.

Somewhere in time, after that loss, I lost myself. I went from the person who dove into things; devil may care, with my heart on my sleeve. I learned to guard myself, maybe too well, after she died.

I used to be a decent writer. The thing that made me a good writer was the emotion in the words. For years I claimed that I lost my mojo and couldn’t write anymore. I am only now realizing that I never lost my mojo. I simply closed off my heart and soul and empty words have no feeling and can’t make the readers lose themselves in a page. I couldn’t be open anymore and the ability to write died a slow and agonizing death.

The other victim in all of this was a phrase I tried to live by in the immediate aftermath of her death.

Never leave something for tomorrow because tomorrow may never come.

I stopped worrying about time. There was always tomorrow. I can talk to that person tomorrow. I’ll answer that message tomorrow. I’ll tell that person how I feel tomorrow. I don’t want to do that today; we can do that next time.

Suddenly, you run out of tomorrows.

 With my mom, there was always something to do tomorrow. The list of things she wanted to see was exhaustive. She always said we would do that tomorrow or later. She died without doing many of the things she had wanted to do. I let her die without insisting we spend time doing those things she wanted to do. I swore that would never be me that I would never sit and say I wished I had done this or that. I would seize the day and live life to the fullest.

When I closed myself off I also closed myself to living life to the fullest.

Today is my last day in Tucson. I am sitting here thinking of things I didn’t do. Things I was going to do the next time I saw you. Things I could do tomorrow.

There are no more tomorrows.

I’ve been burned by time again. I forgot how fleeting it was. How life can pass you by in a moment if you allow it to.

Don’t make my mistakes. Learn from them. Allow yourself to live completely and enjoy the little things. Don’t live a life with regrets. Don’t regret the things you still have time to do. Make time and do them.

Before you run out of time and find yourself sitting alone in an empty room thinking about all of the things you wish you had done.

I Am Alive

“If you’re not feeling emotions you’re not truly living.”

I remember offering that advice to someone not too long ago. It rolled right off my tongue like so many other nuggets of wisdom do. I try to use my age and experience to help others around me. That doesn’t keep me from being hypocritical in that advice.

I told her that life is about all of the emotions; happiness, joy, ecstasy, pain, anger, betrayal and rage. If you’re not willing to experience all of them then you’re not truly alive.

The people that know me best also know that these are the things that I am least likely to do. I have been closed off for years; the end result of trusting one too many women who didn’t deserve it, of experiencing loss but never allowing myself to feel it, of being full of rage but stifling the anger to always be in control. I’d become automated emotionally. Perhaps machinated would be a better word.

I realized that I was a hypocrite and it was I who was closed off and emotionally unavailable.

I was the one who was not alive.

How is it that people did not see this? I have been with far too many friends and lovers for this lack of emotional investment to go unnoticed. The empty embraces, the kisses that don’t touch your soul, the hollow “I love you’s” uttered in the dark and the mindless fucking. Worse, why hadn’t anyone pointed this out to me?

I pondered this quietly in my own mind and I had no answer. The fact remained that I was dead inside.

I came out to the desert southwest more than a year ago to find myself. A spiritual journey to become one with the awe-inspiring mountains and flaming sunsets had come to yield the inner-peace I sought but had done nothing to light the fire in my soul. The fire the long-term friends would remember and the drive behind the dreamer who believed in global change.

Depressing to think about, isn’t it? I was giving advice to someone that I couldn’t grasp myself. The hypocrisy was laughable.

Something was about to change.

Spending time with the student caused a role reversal. While she opened herself up to life she unknowingly taught me to do the same. The teacher became the student.

It started with releasing rage. The same rage that had been boiling just beneath the surface for so many years started to boil to the surface. We harnessed this rage and used it in a “productive” manner. With each blow I delivered, another piece of the wall I had insulated myself with would crack and crumble. I kept things as controlled as possible – I feared what could happen if I let loose with the full fury of what was just under the surface.

As I allowed rage to flow outward other emotions soon followed. Once I was done swinging in anger I allowed myself to feel joy and happiness. Even more amazing, I allowed someone to share those feelings with me. It was incredibly peaceful. The more I tapped into the rage and allowed it to flow freely the more I found other feelings tagging along. The more physical I became the more emotional I was and the more emotional I was the more enjoyable the physical aspect became as well.

I was alive again.

The more alive I felt the more I understood the advice I gave her wasn’t for her. It was my soul screaming at me. I had been ignoring my inner voice for so long I couldn’t hear it anymore. She unwittingly broke through the silence. Blow by blow, the sweet symphony of a hand exploding against flesh brought new life to the empty silence within.

I was full again.

Sadly, a rush of emotions is not easy to handle. I became completely unsure of everything. Like a teenager fumbling with a virgin’s bra clasp every time I experienced something. I was like a baby exploring everything for the first time. Except it wasn’t the first time and some emotions trigger memories. The painful memories that the walls were first built to defend against and the same memories that led to the bout with painkiller addiction because I didn’t want to feel anything ever again.

To be alive you have to let yourself feel the good and the bad. I embraced them all and trust me; I have felt the good and the bad. I have felt rage like I have never let come to the surface. I experienced happiness and ecstasy that I did not know could exist and wont soon forget. I tasted fear and pain and felt the sting of loss. Things I was not capable of a year ago.

Fast forward to this evening.

I pulled out of the lot at work with the sun setting for one last time. I took a familiar turn onto Speedway and took a route I had not taken since the last time she and I drove it. A familiar song was playing on the radio. I opened the sunroof and let myself feel the memories that are a result of associative learning, I warmly remember discussing the haunting sound of the guitar work in this song. I turned onto Swan and laughed to myself thinking about all of the drivers who had caught my wrath during the rush home to enjoy a lunchtime rendezvous. At one intersection with The Smiths playing I fondly remembered road head that was so good I could still feel it. The memories and emotions felt good tonight.

I caught the sun setting with the sky ablaze over the mountains. Through the tears I realized that this was the last drive on those roads and this may be the last amazing sunset I would see for a long time. In this moment of sadness I realized that Tucson had been exactly what I needed and I embraced the emotion and I realized that I was never the teacher. I was the student and will always love the teacher for providing the most important lesson that I couldn’t teach myself. She taught me something that I had long forgotten…

I am alive.