cha - cha - change: a clean slate

cha - cha - change: a clean slate
by: lindsay wincherauk

As the odometer is about to roll over on another year it once again becomes time to sit back and do a little reflecting on what was, and what some simple tweaks may bring our way in the future to brighten the day. I’m not one to jump on the get fit, drink less, focus more, bandwagons… those are just givens and for the most part, in my opinion: set us up for failure. Fitness, health, and focus need to be ongoing quests for each and every one of us and not signs of failed attempts brought to our attention on a yearly basis right after the gluttony of the holiday season. And besides, I’m always somewhere between fit and fat, as said before in a previous post, I’m usually, “fet,” and that is good enough for me, except when I’m in competition mode… there just aren’t very many competitions ahead. In that spirit:

…until further notice.

That’s not a copout, it’s just been a little hectic and emotionally draining on the home front, resulting in one heck of a challenge just to keep from sinking. My fitness challenge helped…it helped by giving me the odd endorphin rush and it also dragged me away from my own quagmire of over-thinking my familial turmoil. I’ve survived, I think, just barely. I’m definitely looking forward to 2008 and what lay ahead for me and all of my friends. As for 155, the whole point of the experiment was to instill some positive lifestyle choices and regain some awareness --- on that front it has been a rousing success and 155 is still the ultimate goal, as said, I’ve got some time to get there and I’ll keep you up to date on the results. 155 also earmarks some research I’m doing for an exciting book project: Put Down the Fork. Stay tuned.

Also stay tuned for the first installment of:

The story of a crime fighting Super Hero and his trusty companion as they travel the globe drowning out the forces of evil. It should will be exciting!

That brings us to:

My list is part comedy, part serious, and definitely all me. In 2008 and beyond I resolve to:

1. Try to be 33.33% less funny. That’s right, I’m going to give up some of my funny, don’t worry, I’ll still be cranking at 66.6% on the guffaw index, and since funny comes from pain… I think giving up some of it will allow my emotional first-aid kit to have a break. I don't think you're funny now! Oh yeah!
2. Cry as often as I need to.
3. Be more handsomer.
4. Spin in circles less.
5. Smile more.
6. Sit down more often.
7. Continue pursuing my passions.
8. Have my Memoir published along with continuing working on several other exciting, glamorous, insightful, and exceptionally hilarious writing projects.
9. Dump the guilt from the sexual equation. Except solo sex… ewe… touching oneself for pleasure --- I can think of one thing: blindness. I’m already blind in one eye… can’t risk pleasure --- making it two. What’s that?.. it won’t make me blind. You can leave now, I won’t be needing you here anymore… I said go, okay, you can stay, as long as we spoon afterward. Did you want to hear my hopes and dreams?.. hey, where are you going? Come back…
10. Save the world.
11. I’ve just been informed no one man can save the world, thus, I’m just going to continue doing the best I can at being kind to all others. Translation: removing judgment.
12. Make a stranger smile everyday… what’s that?.. You think it conflicts with number 1? Trust me, even by giving up a third, there will still be enough funny to go around for everyone.
13. Dance more.
14. Reconnect.
15. Purchase my own home. A stretch?.. we’ll see, it’s down on paper computer screen now --- which happens to be a big part of the battle, I'm told.
16. Say I love you.
17. Have an orgasm on a Tuesday… I think I was shut out on Tuesday last year. Too much information?
18. Dump my Fear of Success. Success is not a bad thing, and a dose of it will help big time with numbers 10, 11 and 19.
19. And last but not least, let love, happiness, health, and prosperity in through the front door.
    

That’s all for now friends. Sending each and every one of you good wishes for 2008 and the years to come as we’re all in this big game of life together. So, therefore, lets collectively rise above what Politicians and Corporations are selling us --- together we can once again make this world a brilliantly fantastic place!

a snapshot of me

a snapshot of me
by: lindsay wincherauk

birth

July 16th, 1960, Edmonton Alberta, Canada.

Parents: Nick & Rebekah Wincherauk.

First home: a mystery, rumor has it for the first five years I was passed around like a hot potato until Nick & Rebekah, finally opened their door. Born in Edmonton… never lived there in childhood, should’ve figured something was fishy. Lived in Saskatoon starting at five. I think.

Brothers/Sisters: Six ranging from four years older to twenty-three years older.

Sequence: Sister (Bernice), Sister (Sadie), Sister (Beverly), Brother (James), Brother (Donald), and Brother (Brian). And, of course, me (Lindsay), number seven.

Aunts/Uncles/Others: countless. One Grandfather was a minister.

foibles

I’m blind in my left eye. A patch was put over it in my youth --- I just walked into things. The patch apparently wasn’t a miracle worker.

Youth surgeries: numerous, eye (several), tonsils, and others I can’t recall. I was a kid.

Adult surgeries: at least thirteen that I can remember. Seven being knee surgeries.

Pneumonia three times as a kid, quite severe I was told. Battled it a couple times in adulthood. Still winning… whew!

growing up

A bitch. Parents were old. Youngest of seven meant a lot of shouting out “Hey look at me! Look what I can do!” Nobody took the time to look. Not all bad, I became amazingly adept at a lot of different things --- in two year stints. And, I developed a killer personality. Really! Nah… I’m kidding. Am I?

school

I did okay… in two year stints. Class clown. Consummate entertainer. I hid behind personality… trying to get noticed.

University: enrolled to play sports, followed my Brothers footsteps. Academics… I’d get by, sort of. Wrong choice? Nah… just wasn’t ready to pick a direction.

athletics

Looked up to Brother Don. Tried to follow his lead. Football was his thing. I ventured into many areas. All-star second baseman in baseball. City Champion in baseball. Golf… low handicap. Won my division in tournament once. Tennis, good. Football, quarterback: City Champion in sandlot ball. City/Provincial Champion in High School. National Champion in Junior. Played several years in university (as mentioned above).

Accomplishments: Canadian Junior Football Record: Longest touchdown pass in league history.

http://www.cjfl.ca/recordBooks/CJFL%202007%20Record%20Book.pdf

(page 12 & 147).

12

PASSING YARDS

LONGEST PASS
108t Lindsay Wincherauk to Gord Bolstad, Edmonton Wildcats (PFC)…Sept 24, 1979

147

1979: Quarterback Lindsay Wincherauk of the Edmonton Wildcats throws a record 108 touchdown pass to Gord Bostad on Sept. 24. Brian Peberdy of the Saskatoon Hilltops returns a punt 130 yards for a score on Aug. 12. It is the longest in junior history.

Saskatchewan Sports Hall of Fame: Inducted as part of National Championship Team.

http://www.saskatoonsportshalloffame.com/team/1978_saskatoon_hilltops.htm

(brilliant hair!)

Many more sporting accomplishments… for the most part unnoticed by family. Oh well.

massive hurdle

Older parents meant an earlier introduction to sickness. Dad’s started when I was sixteen with the last six years being for the most part --- spent visiting the hospital. He died the day after my twenty-fifth birthday, July 17th, 1985.

Mom: passed December 12th 1987.

I not only witnessed both of their declines --- as the youngest child I was there for both of their last gasps of life.

The family: splintered apart. I was left on my own. Bitter… nah, I just don't understand.

career

Spinning in circles. Two years, some success, get bored and quit or eventually get fired. Next career: two years, some success, get bored and quit or eventually get fired. No direction. Home base was gone. The loop continues…. argh… for at least twenty years.

Need focus… maybe tomorrow.

love

Do you mean sex?

Easy… not me, getting some, was never malicious. However, rarely fulfilling --- except for those from my past who've taken the time to read this, of course.

Real love: twice, actually, four times. The love source has gone through a transition.

Now: alone.

Options: present, I hear the knocking, I won’t open the door. Why?

an even more massive hurdle

2003: breakup of a new-sourced true love, death (suicide), death (cancer of a friend), alienation (family and friends), deception, death, death, and another death. Where’d my family go? My home?

a wall

July 2003 Europe beckoning: “Could you phone your parents and ask them who your real parents are?”

What?

My parents came back to life.

What?

My parents aren’t Rebekah & Nicholas. That explains being a hot potato for the first five years. If not them, who?

Bernice and Elmer.

Not Bernice, she wasn’t good to me… Elmer?

Why the mystery?

The times.

Bullshit. Those times are gone.

Do I tell them I know?

Yes. “I know.” *CLICK* They hung up the phone… I’m all alone.

Strangers offer: You don’t understand what it was like back-then.

I checked the calendar… we’re living in the present, back-then can’t be fixed, today a hug can be offered. It’s not.

hope

Elmer!

Three years go by. He wants to be my father. We meet. It’s good. Two weeks later: “Elmer, it’s not a happy ending, you’re not my father.”

Hope drifts away. Alone, again?

Not entirely, fantastic friends… too much for them to constantly be bombarded with?

I hope not.

Fucked up?

Somewhat.

Bringing us to:

my ode to 2007
by: lindsay wincherauk

How am I doing?

“Unbelievably!.. considering. I don’t understand how you could possibly be okay. Too much has happened. I’m not sure how you could’ve handled things. You seem to be able to put things into perspective, assign meaning, understand right and wrong, good and bad, and, you magically seem to be coming out the other end, okay.” Dr. Musial, stated, and then continued. “You are of high intellect and it’s a true testament to your character. It’s an amazing story, Lindsay, and amazingly, you’re handling it. More than a lifetime of hurt has come your way and you’re not broken and bitter. It’s your time to shine.” Now smirking. “You’re either a genius or you’re crazy…”

…I’m going with a crazy… can’t call myself a genius, I think that would be the first indication that I’m not.

2007 was probably the most difficult year of my life. I’m floating, barely. At the risk adding a smattering of whine to my diction: When is it going to get easier?

I don’t have anything left in the tank and my vessel is springing leaks… I want to stop crying. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, maybe a little, I’m a good man. I’m kind. I’ve got a sense of humor. I’m friendly to all. But I can’t seem to scratch and crawl my way to success.

“Lindsay, you’re extremely intelligent, it’s time for you to succeed. You’re family has instilled a heaping helping of the fear of success in you. Primarily, your mother. It’s obvious.” My doctor added. “It’s your time.”

I don’t know how?

Nobody’s watching. They won’t care. They shouldn’t matter. They ran when I needed them the most… now, I need, me. I fucking faked it with my doctor. I’m not doing all that well… and I don’t know how to turn the corner. My friends, brilliant. Wayne, a remarkable father/husband, who has taken care of me without condition, I’m lucky. Greg, my brother in spirit, a man who’s risen above his own family dysfunction and has succeeded immensely in spite of them stripping away his climb by diminishing his effort. I’m not sure they’ve understood the height of his challenge, and that a “I’m proud of you. What a fantastic accomplishment” would’ve gone a long way to bringing him to happy. Is the world spinning so fast that we’re now forgetting to lift the spirits of family? Has it always been this way? If it has been… what’s wrong with us?

I need to let some stuff go… again, I don’t know how?

As the years go by, we understand that there really are more important things in life than “things.” We develop a tendency to hang on to the people who make our lives better --- the kind of people who inspire us by the way they freely give of their talents, the positive way they look at life, and the generous way they share their hearts.

Because you’re that kind of person, I just couldn’t let Christmas go by without wishing you a day filled with joy and a year filled with happiness.

signed: Elmer (my not-father)

Christmas Eve, the words above came in a card sent to me from, Elmer, my not-father. I walked down the street afterward, tears rolling down my cheeks, I didn’t wipe them away. Elmer, sees something. My doctor, does. So do Wayne and Greg. Why doesn’t my family? My mother? She sent me a box with an empty photo album in it.

“She’s trying to hurt you.” Doctor Musial, opined days earlier when I told him of the photo album. She’s succeeding. “There won’t be a happy ending. Where do you see it going with your non-father?”

“Sadly, regardless of the positive sentiment, I’m sure it’ll just drift away. We don’t have a reason anymore to bond. Hearing from him now, as kind as he is, hurts. Maybe it shouldn’t. It just, does. So, I think our relationship needs to run its course and flutter away. His presence reminds me of what I’ll likely never have.”

“You’re probably right. Most people wouldn’t be able to see the reality in your words. It’s astounding that you do. Your relationship would for the most part be awkward without a reason for the connection. You need to grieve losing your father again… with Elmer present, you won’t be able to do just that.” Sadness was present in both voice and expression.

Back on the street on Christmas Eve, tears still rolling, I spun back and forth between the card and photo album. Focus on the positive, Lindsay. I’m right. Photo album, a relative stranger sees something special in me, the album, what a beautiful card, album, I do share my heart, I am good to all, it comes naturally, album, my doctor thinks I’m brilliant, and, my not-father wanted to be my father. Take that album and your empty sheets of guilt and pain. Take that!

I’ve fooled them with passion, smoke and mirrors. I may have a positive attitude. I may think of others first, a character flaw?.. I feel beaten, trashed, as if I’m not going to survive. I feel hopeless. I work hard. My tenacity doesn’t appear to matter. I see the world as a place that needs some serious nurturing, now. I see an amazingly beautiful and vibrant world that is self-destructing in delusion and deceit. Collectively we seem to be distracted and chasing glitter instead of substance. We want instead of give. We judge instead of hug. And, we push and barge our way to the unattainable top, instead of taking a moment to breathe and offer others a hand. We’re being manipulated, by greed, and by those who get a big taste of it and don’t realize that they’re no better than those who still take the time to hug. We live in a world where one baseball player, a shortstop, earns $3,139 per hour, 24 hours a day, 365 days per year. We think that’s okay… it’s what the market will bear. I can’t watch baseball anymore. Let alone go to a game… even if my tickets were free. Bitter? No. Jealous? If my weakness was a motivation for money, yes. It’s not, so again, NO. He plays baseball. Don’t we see the absurdity? Don’t we see the shunning of all others?

We’re all created equal.

PLEASE! Not in the current version of the world.

I don’t belong of this earth. I’ve got the wrong attitude. I haven’t been able to jump on the greed bandwagon. I’m not out searching for the BIGGEST SALE. The whole concept of SALE itself screams “let’s screw each other over… we’ve produced too much crap and now we’ve got to make room for the next batch coming off the assembly lines by finding a way to sell it to you.” Be honest: for the most part you don’t need what you’re buying. Corporate profits must keep rising or the shareholders won’t be able to claim their perch at the top. Isn’t it time to stop raping the earth and produce just what we need, and most important, sell it for what it‘s worth to begin with?

Then there won’t be anymore sales. Precisely!.. we can get back to family. An impossible dream?

Unfortunately, greed and want, makes it an impossibility until our whole system crumbles. The problem: we’ll never be honest with ourselves to see the possibility of that day coming ‘cause we’re too busy crawling over each other at the mall.

Several potential love interests contacted me over the holidays, wishing me well, they’ve all shared a common attraction to me, “You’re easy to be with. Calming. I feel safe around you. You’re not like the rest.” I fail each of them as I don’t know how to truly let them in. I resist being loved. I punish myself. I’m afraid to be hurt. I contradict, me. How can I be calming, easy to be with, when I feel so afraid?”

Truth be told, their company protects me, helps me to escape, me. I need to let someone in for more than a moment. How?.. is the question.

The end has crossed my mind again on a couple of occasions. I’ve kept its echoes silent to others. I hate its presence. I sink low and think: what a statement it would be if I didn’t rise on January 2nd. The 1st is my mothers birthday, I could punctuate my pain by being no more, and I could send the ALBUM back with one photo, me waving goodbye. We’ve never said hello --- the photo could do both.

I never told my doctor of my demise creeping into my thoughts… I was too busy selling my performance. My acting is strong. I’ve never told another living soul of the extent of my pain, I don’t want to be a burden. I wear it daily. If I do act… I’ll need to be forgotten as those who do love me, they don’t deserve my selfishness, selfless is supposed to be my strength. I’ll have betrayed them. I’m sorry.

I’ll be here on the 2nd and the pain will go on. I’ll continue with the next scene… trying to SNAP out of my fall. I’ll keep persisting. Searching for positive. Being kind to others. I need to be kind to myself. I’ll continue the pursuit of my passion. I’ll let someone in… accept who I’ve become. I’m lying, I think. I’ll embrace me. At least I’ll try. I’ll continue to fool others. I’ll continue to hug. I’ll continue to cry. I want to find success. To capture happiness. Christmas has come and gone --- I invited many people to share in mine --- some confirmed that they were coming… most never showed. I pretended their absence didn’t hurt. It cemented the fact: new friends are a stretch. They’ve got their own lives. I need to be good to me… I sent the invites, and I’ll do so again next year, bitter is not allowed! I wanted to make the day astounding. I wanted to offer warmth and hospitality. I guess I did --- the numbers are irrelevant as it is more important to accept the gesture. No shows are not a reflection of the gesture.

My great friend, Steve, did come after all, and another friend, Steve, dropped by for an afternoon visit… that is all that matters. And I was given the opportunity to learn more about another guest who I’d likely never break bread with in the real world. We broke bread together so to speak, and if I say so myself the meal was fantastic.

Boxing Day, a good friend, Binh, called, he was away from home for only his second Christmas. He misses home. He called to ask if he could drop by for a visit. “Absolutely,” was the answer. Christmas was extended. We chatted for hours, partook in liquid refreshments, listened to Christmas songs. Very nice! Friendship and love is what the season is about. I shared stories from my youth, Binh, often suppresses tears, the story evoked the odd drop. The memory shared was a cherished one. Me, a youngster, a little over five at most, I never understood it at the time, however, the deception of my upbringing instilled many wonderful characteristics in me… anyway, on Christmas mornings past I’d be anxious for the family to come together, the gifts weren’t important, at least not ones to me, every Christmas I assumed the role of distributor, from:… to:… I’d hand out gift after gift. Keeping the family together was what mattered. Where did they go? Have they forgotten?

Binh helped to remind me family changes. A great lesson. Christmas is important to him. As our day wound down I could see the joy in his smile, maybe created in part by the liquids, actually, not. We threw on some glasses that made the room explode into a kaleidoscope of colors. We acted like children. For a moment we were again --- how fun! His presence helped me to remember it isn’t about just one day… the warmth and vibrancy of color burst into our hearts as we listened to song after song, culminating with, “Thank you! You saved Christmas for me. I’ve had a great time.”

He saved mine as well and helped me to regain the positives. Thank you!

Rebirth is upon us again. A new year is on the horizon. A clean slate. I promise to reach for the sky. I promise to wipe my slate clear. I promise to…

I just need to start believing my performance. I hope one day I can.

2008

Is it my turn to be calmed?

The best must certainly be ahead. My Memoir will be published and it will become a rousing literary and motion picture success. I truly am an amazing and beautiful man who’ll have a positive impact on the world. And most important: I deserve a life filled with love, happiness, health, and prosperity.

As my doctor directed confidently my way:

“Lindsay, it’s time for you to shine. You’re either a genius or you’re crazy”

lindsay’s life or a bizarre movie script: the game show

lindsay’s life or a bizarre movie script: the game show
by: lindsay wincherauk

Dateline: December 13th 2007

An exciting and bizarre new game show is sweeping the nation by storm:

Each installment contestants will listen to a relentless parade of events and bizarre plot twists… at the end of which they must decide if what they’ve just digested is part of Lindsay’s life or a bizarre movie script. Pretty self explanatory. Contestants are playing for…

Scene 1

December 12th 2007

On this day, the 20th anniversary of watching his mother pass away, who wasn’t really his mother by the way, his father, who’d magically came back to life 4 years ago, called. Lindsay and his father who came back to life (18 years after Lindsay watched his father die) built a 3 year relationship over the phone before they finally happily met --- happened not to be his real father, a fact Lindsay was forced to inform his father of after receiving DNA test results --- his non-father contacted Lindsay’s real mother, who won’t admit to being his real mother, who happens to be dying by the way, to ask her who’s Lindsay’s new real father?

I reiterate, he called on the 20th anniversary of Lindsay watching his mother die. Just a coincidence?

Contestants: Is this a bizarre movie script or is it Lindsay’s life?

Stay tuned for the next installment… coming soon.

On a lighter note: here’s another original article which has been pitched to the media. I hope you enjoy!.. and have a

Wonderful Christmas!

immigration: are we being duped?
by: lindsay wincherauk

Are we being duped by our politicians? Our fearless leaders?

Which of the following is the greatest threat to our way of life: terrorism, global warming, violent weather, illegal immigration, peak oil, crime, hockey’s goal shortage, or greed? Come to think of it: what is our WAY of life?

We’re facing rising oceans, wildfires, and Americas deep south is immersed in a severe water crisis --- coupled with rising temperatures. With unrelenting heat and no water, what’ll quench insatiable thirst? Is unlivable on the horizon?

Some experts claim drinking water in Atlanta Georgia, will expire by years end. This problem is not restricted to just Georgia, seven other states whose main source of water comes from the Colorado river could soon be facing a similar calamity --- the river is running precariously close to dry. For more information, Google it!

Why is this important to us in the at-times-drowning Pacific Northwest?

If this crisis is real, and the temperature and droughts don’t subside, maybe not this year, but sometime in our lifetime, millions upon millions of American immigrants will be created by changing climate. Without water areas will quickly become uninhabitable, with residents migrating in search of new places to live. Sounds alarming. It is?

How are we being duped?

Turn on the news and listen to the candidates battling in the US election campaign. The message seems to be skewed. No longer is terrorism the main fix. Global warming does occupy the stage, only somewhat. The number one issue: illegal immigrants and what they’re doing to our way of life. They’re taking our jobs is shouted loud and clear. They can come but we must be able to track them, make them legal. Tag them so we can control them. Sound familiar? What’s your SIN?

News flash: Most Americans/Canadians haven’t wanted, or won’t, do the jobs immigrants are willing do for low pay, for a long, long time now. And, I guarantee: the illegal ones aren’t working as doctors and lawyers.

Could the politicians and corporations be distracting us from what is really important by creating enemies who aren’t really there? Aren’t most people on this planet just trying get by and be happy? Do you really think people at the dinner table in (insert developing nation here) are discussing hatred for America? Do you think new immigrants are reporting to Dr. Evil at the end of each day?

“Our plan is working to perfection. We’ve got them just where we want them. I’m prepared to do whatever I need… sorry, gotta go, American Idol is on and I just financed a HD television. I’ll get back to the master plan tomorrow… or the next day. How about, I’ll call you when I’m ready?”

If we buy into the propaganda, we’re supposed to shun all those who are different by putting up borders and keeping them out. We’re supposed remove tolerance and diversity from the equation. Our warmth is to be turned cold.

The holidays are upon us, and whether you say Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, or Bingo Bango Luongo, who cares, as long as you treat others with respect and are trying to find happiness yourself.

Diversity and tolerance is what makes Vancouver/Canada great. With the prospect of drought in the south, we’ll need it, the Americans may be on our doorstep soon. And, I’m certain they won’t care whether or not they’re legal or not. Unlike the immigrants before who came in search of a better life… the Americans will be coming because they want/need something we have.

GULP!

---------

Lindsay is a Vancouver based author. For information visit http://www.seedenterprises.com/

--------

155: slide show

in loving memory

in loving memory

Rebekah (Becky) Elizabeth Wincherauk

born: 1914 passed away: December 12th 1987

On this date 20 years ago I was present to witness the passing of my (Grand)Mother. I held her hand for several hours as my friend Gord Tank, stood by.

My great friends, Darryl, Corrie, Barb, Wes, Kleo, Kirk, Jeff, Lori, Gord, Michelle, and several other loving friends, stood by to make sure that I was going to be okay. That night when I left her bedside, I never fully understood the scope of the new beginning in my life... I never fully knew the magnitude of what was coming my way. I survived, somewhat. That night I celebrated her life with these great friends.

All these years later, December 12th., etches its way into my heart. It's subsided some over the years, not really, however, this year, it's coming on strong. I don't want to reveal much more of my heart on this occasion --- I now need to protect the memory.

All I want to say: Rebekah ("Becky") Elizabeth Wincherauk, (Grand)Mom, thank you for giving me a chance. Without you, I would have never survived. I love you with every ounce of my heart, and I can never imagine the struggle you faced. Your care taught me how to give back without condition. You were always will be, a remarkable woman. Your children were blessed to be raised by you.

I will never forget you, or be able to thank you enough for the strength you showed and the love that you sent my way. I now understand, love, and family, is more important than any material possessions we can obtain in our journey through life. Because of you I will never be alone. Thank you!

Wherever you are I know it will never be goodbye.

Much Love

Lindsay

155: day 15teen - twenty-three

155: day 15teen - twenty-three
the home stretch

dec 3rd - dec 11th

opening salvo…

Your writing makes me sad. there’s a lot of anger and sadness in it. It seems as if you’re are trying to reach for happiness. Even the Christmas tree drawing on your web site… sad, lumpy, empty.

- words from a friend.

Are the words right? Should I get defensive? Are they judgmental? Critical?

They unquestionably make me ponder where I’m heading. Maybe I’m, no, absolutely I’m, somewhat stuck with my family dilemma. With each day that passes I’m becoming glaringly more cognizant of my need to move on. It does me no good staying stuck. The words of others, when they come without judgment paint the significance of that need, brilliantly. And that is why on day 17teen, “Hello Doc. It’s been awhile… not much how about you. I’m not sure why I called I guess I really just wanted to talk to you.” And talk we’ll do. He’ll assess my ability to process. I’m sure he’ll tell me it’s amazing that I’m not a basket case, and then he’ll find something funny to bug me about. In the end if all goes well… he’ll wish me well, tell me to give it some time, and, he’ll tell me I’m intelligent and I’ll be fine.

Except for the damn sore throat I’ve developed in the last day. My friggen challenge, is becoming more, challenging. Monday a scratch. Tuesday some drizzle from my nose. Wednesday you sick boy… no gym for you. I knew that… so I’ve been absent thus far this week… being in-tune. If all goes well… back at it tomorrow.

I’ll end this with a flashback:

Husky football circa sometime in the 80s:

Coach Garvey: Boys we’ve got a big game ahead. UBC is one fine looking football team.

He draws a picture of a car on the board and writes Husky Mobile on it.

Coach Garvey: We’ve been struggling lately. We seem to be stuck. We’ve slid off the prairie highway and we’re spinning our wheels. We must find a way out of the ditch and back on the road. Boys we’ve got a great team. We can beat anybody. We just need focus. UBC may be good, but when we’re firing on all cylinders we can defeat them. I believe it! We have to fight. As a team. If we do we’ll get out of the ruts and be unstoppable. So, let’s fight together and win. What do we need to do to get the Husky Mobile unstuck?

Defensive lineman (enrolled in vocational agriculture): Coach… duh. (he goes to the board and starts drawing). I reckon we best go get the tractor and pull the car out of the ditch.

Sad is a powerful emotion as long as we stop it from lingering. Without sad I’m not so certain happy can be found.

…end of opening salvo.

pep talk of the day

SLUMP.

I was already to go with a inspiring pep talk about editing life and wham… a massive slump hit. I’ll try not to bring you down with me, but this whole family affair of mine, is grating on me. Build up… build up… build up… and then nothing. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It has and I can’t do a damn thing about it.

I try not to read too much into the deception. I try desperately to convince myself that nothing has changed and this whole journey is no big deal. It’s not working. I visited my doctor… he had a sub in for him. She listened to my update and when I shared my last word injected.

“Wow. That’s too much for one person. In a year. I think in a lifetime. Way too much. You shouldn’t be okay. Are you? You need to give some of it away. Do you have anyone to talk to? You must come back. Get a full physical. Make sure nothings growing and everything is functioning properly. Book a physical… that way you’ll have enough time to fill Doc. Musial, in. I’m amazed you’re okay.”

Am I? I’m not so sure.

I’m feel as I’m frozen in an empty vortex and nothing means anything anymore. There is nothing ahead. This wasn’t supposed to be the conclusion. It was supposed to be a happy ending. Don’t get me wrong, I take great pride in who I’m becoming. In treating others well. And, I haven’t stopped doing so. But I’m not sure what the point of it is. I won’t stop. I’m just not so sure why I’m continuing?

I’m struggling with laughter. I’m struggling with allowing others in. I guess I’m just, struggling. Stuck. Frozen. Flailing. I need my writing to produce some results. I'm not sure if anyone is listening or if anyone cares. We’re too busy with celebrity. We’re too immersed in distraction. We’re all too tired to care. Are we not?

I care. It’s all I have to give.

As for my slump: a little sickness, led to a hint of depression, led to eating of crap again, led to avoiding the spirit-lifting exercise, led to soul-sapping… and thus, no pep talk in this installment.

Instead, I give you one of my latest article pitches, it’s a work in progress. Hope you enjoy!

our way of life: from beginning to end?
by: lindsay wincherauk

Some rich man came and raped the land,
nobody caught ‘em.
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes,
and Jesus, people bought ‘em.

- the eagles/last resort

People from all over the World came to a new land, searching for freedom, liberty, the search for happiness, and a better way of life.

They staked claims to the land and forced their ways upon it’s indigenous inhabitants. They faced resistance. However, they were too strong and came in numbers too large for the natives to overcome. The aboriginals were defeated and their way of life was stripped from them. And so to was the respect for the land.

Society began to evolve. Everyone worked in harmony building towns, cities, highways, means of communication and items of opulence. Opportunity abounded! America became a land of freedom. A land where all man was equal. A land of endless opportunity. And, out of the propaganda, the American Dream was built. Be all you can be. Whatever you want can be yours. The Dream was real. Everyone started reaching for the sky.

At first everything was wonderful. Families grew. Love was strong. And people individually began to gravitate toward their strengths. Intellectuals found science, medicine, law, etc. Others leaned toward agriculture. Some weren’t so inclined and found themselves looking after homes, cleaning, maintaining, and nurturing. And some got dirty and built societies infrastructure. Some found themselves in manufacturing: clothing, furniture, the necessities of living… all the way to items of luxury. Each had someone above them orchestrating movement. Like the land before, the first to lay claim soared to the stratospheres… in the hierarchy of society the first to define status gained tremendous wealth and status.

The Dream was alive and everyone believed with hard work they could still reach for the sky. Shoot for your Dreams. Anything is possible. It was. Society rewarded accomplishment. A doctor, a lawyer, an entrepreneur, and heads of companies were paid like Kings. A farm worker, a janitor, and a mother, not so much. Those without means were forced to live in different neighborhoods. The other side of the tracks. The bottom of the hill. Yet, they still believed the stars were within reach. Stay in school. Work hard son and you can have whatever you want.

Want?

Corporations created it. If we show the populace what they need, give them a taste with marketing, show images of the rich & famous living amazing lives while enjoying our stuff… we can reap the rewards. Lets start with the children --- hang out by the school yards and show them their first taste.

It worked to perfection.

Everybody started to look for an angle. Something to sell. Something that would help them live the American Dream. Something to help them shoot for the stars. I bought it for this much (sale). I sold it for this. Became contradicting forces. Fair market value… a fallacy at best. In the infancy of the plan… many changed social classes, and with new found success, changed neighborhoods as well. The janitor was left behind. But we’re all created equal. Depression sets in. If I’m equal why can’t I climb?

Those who’ve climbed to the top began to forget the difficulty of the climb. They forgot that those they climbed over are human as well. They looked down on those who were never given the tools to reach great heights. Be that: intelligence, birthright or just plain luck. I worked hard. I deserve more. If they want what I have they can work like me. All without an ounce of compassion for how much effort it takes to remain impoverished. Poor takes more effort than rich can ever imagine. Society continues…

Everyone wants, wants, wants… wanting is marketed as happiness. It’s the fuel that ignites the lower reaches of society. They can look, but they can’t touch. Some still find a way up. Most just Dream. A line is established. Those who can have. Those who can’t. Each year more fall below the line.

Must keep those below the line hungry. Sell them hope. Unattainable?

If they’re hungry and still believe they can have… they’ll work harder. They do.

Families begin to fail. The pressure of the Dream is too much. You never give me anything. We never go anywhere. You’ll never amount to anything. Society fractures. The divorce rate soars. Two homes are created from where there once was only one. Two homes needs more stuff. Some can’t afford what they need.

Suave entrepreneurs search for a way to keep selling. We’ll lend you the money. You too can have stuff. For a price. It works. Everyone below the line buys in. The price is heavy. But the happiness it’ll bring will solve all of the problems of life. It does for awhile. Until the bills pile up.

Make your money work for you… that’ll help you out of your situation. Give it to me. If you give me enough, I’ll give you a little extra each month if you don’t touch it. The rich dump billions in and leave it alone. Their money grows. Everyone else deposit pennies, and they access it regularly. The banker thinks, I can make money off those who don’t leave their money alone. Each time they touch it I’ll charge them a fee. I can give part of that fee to the rich. The line is lowered again. The Dream is replaced with insomnia. More families splinter apart. And the rich keep getting fatter off the sweat of those still immersed in the Dream.

We need more consumers. Not a problem. Thousands are lined up at our doors. They want to pursue the American Dream. Good, they’ll work for less. They’re at the bottom rung. Those who are already on that rung fall off. They begin to drink. They venture down a path to more illicit substances trying to find escape. There is no escape. They find themselves alone and shunned. They blame their problems on those new to the land, instead of the flawed Dream. Their homes are broken and even more tragically, their children are no longer equal. The line is lowered some more.

As time goes ‘buy‘… and nearly everything’s been done, the Dream begins to turn into a nightmare for most, so, they gamble, buy lottery tickets and fall deeper into escape. More families fail as each generation becomes increasingly burdened by the weight of the pursuit. The immigrants did this to me. To us.

The rich party and their wealth is flaunted in front of us in the media. Athletes and celebrities make 100s of millions. Heads of corporations live lavish lifestyles. The media keeps smothering us with images of glamour and excess. Television proliferates what decorating a home, flipping a house, and dressing in the finest fashions can bring us. Happiness. We want it badly… happiness that is. Esteem is ripped from our souls. We all want to be millionaires. We all want to say DEAL.

We still need to keep those who haven’t fallen off the bottom rung happy, indebted. We’ll give them a pittance more, we’ll tell them if they work harder they too can climb. It’s not too late. They do, work harder that is, however, they’re too tired to think when they return home each night. Too tired and distracted to see what’s coming our way. They want to escape. They can’t. One job turned into two, even three, just to survive, something has to give. Families implode.

In the meantime corporations secretly look for ways to manufacture products at lower costs so those at the top can still bathe in gold. They tell the Dreamers they have no choice, our hands are tied, it‘s the global economies fault… we can’t afford you anymore. More fall off the step. Blaming China and India as they fall --- not the men at the top.

Crime and despair run rampant in the depths of destruction. Mostly against each other at the bottom. The rich are behind gates. More families fail as the currency of love for the shallow tear them apart. Beauty for women. Money, fame, and power for men. Beauty has an expiry date. Money keeps attracting more money.

Paranoia sets in. Our way of life is in jeopardy. What’s the definition of WAY, again?

Stuff?

We must keep others out. Protect what we have. We need a common enemy. We find one. Somebody to rally against. Something to distract our citizens from pain. War is the answer? It will unite us. It doesn’t, it divides us more than ever with children dying for an undefined cause.

We must examine our immigration policies the politicians shout out. It’s the Mexicans, the Chinese, the Gays, the… who’ve created this mess. They’ve taken food right out of the mouths of Americans and they want to consume our resources. They’re the ones to blame.

Are they?

They work as janitors and in farmers fields. Americans realized long ago that was no longer the way to the top. Donald Trump reminds us of just that: Think BIG and Kick Ass in Business and Life. Some at the bottom try to keep the Dream alive and fill his pockets with cash. Most of the others at the bottom of the pool have given up and are just trying to survive escape. Their Dream has long died.

Oh my God!.. our infrastructure is about to collapse. Our highways. Our bridges. Our hospitals. Our… we can’t afford to pay Americans to fix it.

The middle of the pack, which is now near the bottom, still think that there’s hope. They’ll fight. They still want ‘High Definition’. They rally. The government recognizes the Dream is splintering apart. Many see through the sales pitch. The government hard sells the agenda: Our way of life is at stake, all you have to do to protect it is, trust me. *WINK*. I may take away your liberties. A bit of your freedom. I’m not a fascist. The enemy wants to destroy us. We must continue to fight.

If we don’t wake from the Dream, before we blink, our freedom may be gone. A short trip back into history and we’ll realize this scenario’s been played out before.

The WAY of life wasn’t supposed to be stuff. It was liberty and freedom. Family and friends. It was equality of mankind. Each part was supposed to be equally important. The enemy isn’t definable by the color of skin. The enemy is GREED.

The fatal flaw of the Dream: A janitor can never be a doctor, regardless of how hard he try’s. And, janitors are easily replaceable as a new willing addict is at our doors wanting a taste of the Dream. We reward money with money. How preposterous. Could we be applying the interest to the wrong end of the scale?

Can it be fixed?

I don’t know. Maybe this is just the way it’s supposed to play out. Maybe we don’t have any say in tomorrow. I refuse to buy that notion. Could it be time for us all to rally against greed? To value PEOPLE more than stuff?

Just imagine if a portion of the interest of those at the top was directed to those still struggling with the climb. Wouldn’t homelessness, and crime begin to vanish before our eyes as dignity and hope is returned to all those who’ve been left behind?

For me: What a beautiful Dream!

progress report

In an unprecedented move the powers that be at the 155 Challenge Head Office have decided to grant an extension due to the near meltdown of the test subject. A spokesman, Mr. Tulupsha, on behalf of 155’s president stated in a prepared statement: “Holly crap! That’s a kindling too much of life for one person to process in such a short time frame. 155’s pressures may send him over the edge. Family. No family. Sick. 555. Coping and the such, I think in this one case we need to extend the challenge period. I’m certain that Mr. Lindsay is not a melodramatic flaneur, and a whisp of compassion may help him reach his lofty goals. Therefore the an extension of fourteen days is in order. New completion date: January 3rd, 2008, making the challenge a 45 day journey. EXTENSION GRANTED!”

The 155 Head Office is located in:

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapok-aiwhenuakitanatahu,

New Zealand. Population: it’s a hill --- whatever lives on it and it’s 85 letters. The long version 92 letters. Legend has it a man with big knees who swallows the land while playing his flute. Seriously!

A subsidiary office is located in: Whiskey Dick Mountain, Washington State, USA.

And, just out of curiosity, have you ever been to:


Fucking, Austria?

It’s located 32 k. north of Salzburg, “the hills are alive,” population 93. Apparently the town had to install theft-resistant signs to combat the problem of sign stealing.

To understand more on the etymology of the word FUCK, visit ask seed at http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ and check out the table of contents. There you’ll find all you need to know.

For now (author credit below):

Fucking in Austria has a long history: Its oldest record dates back to 1070. As I have stated in my article about the history of Austria, Bavarian tribes migrated into the region of what is Northern Austria today in the 6th century. Even today you can still see how far they got (before they encountered Slavonic settlers in the South) by villages and towns that end on the suffix of “-ing” or “-ig”. This suffix refers to “community” or “people”. One of the Bavarian noblemen migrating into Austria was a man called Focko. I do not know how he got his name but hope that he was proud of it.

The Meaning of Fucking finally Revealed

The settlement that he ruled over referred to him as the landlord in its name: “Fockoing” therefore meant “community or people of Focko”. This is the etymologic origin of Fucking. Today, it is still little more than a settlement with a mere 91 residents (“Fuckers”?). The village, which is located in the district of Braunau am Inn, nonetheless attracts a lot of attention. Fucking often appears in the media – for some peculiar reason, it is usually English-speaking programs that pay attention to the village with the easy-to-remember-name. Personally, I like Rosanne Barr’s incredibly smart comments (“Do they know it’s a bad word?”) best.

Source: http://tourmycountry.com/austria/fucking.htm

All contents are copyright (c) 2006-2007 by Benedikt Mandl and TourMyCountry.com

Note: Although, one day we hope to have a head office, and if we did, the above locations would be peachy, however, we don’t. Well not entirely true, we actually do, it resides between my ears, and as mentioned, that area has been a little overburdened of late. Thus, an ounce of levity was required. Like fuck, don’t you think!?!

fitness fact/tip

listen to your body!

A weak installment. I know! I said I was down. Anyway, if you’ve got a bit of a cold or a fever, be cognizant of how you feel. Don’t be obsessed with fitness. Take the time to get better. Your body will thank you, and so will all those who you don’t spread your illness to at the gym.

consumed

day 15teen monday dec 3rd - day twenty-three tuesday dec 11th

• Sick days: eating, sort of fasting. Sort of juicing. Sort of eating crap. Sort of drinking. Sort of sweating. Nothing much to see here. So move along. Tracking/fasting will recommence tomorrow...
  

randomness

Jim died.

I can’t help flash back to Jim. He died during the last update. He was seventy-two. A good man. He lived hard. He had a tough life. But still he was a decent man. We can’t forget that fact. I hadn’t seen him for about six months when he returned to work recently. Regardless of his absence, condition and age, he asked me on his first day back, “How’s your poetry going.”

At first I wanted to correct him, fortunately I quickly realized, who cares?.. I hadn’t seen him in six months and he remembered I write. That’s all that mattered.

We can all learn something from Jim: show interest in others.

When I told him, “It’s a tough grind and it can take a long time for results to come back.”

He kindly replied, “Don’t worry… you’ll succeed. You’ve got one thing that can’t be taught, talent!”

Not only did he show interest… he encouraged as well.

Thank you: JIM.

You will be missed. We’re all a bit better off for having known you.

people matter!

155: day eleven - 14teen

155: day eleven - 14teen

nov 29th - dec 2nd

opening salvo…

I’ve decided to fast after all. Starting on Monday December 3rd I’m expunging food from my daily equation. Fruit juice, vegetable juice, juice-juice, water, and juice, will be all that adorns my breakfast/lunch/snack/dinner table. Calorie intake, I’m guessing: about 500 per day. I’ll now return you to our regularly scheduled programming!

The following pep talk is a combination of a new event in my life and a excerpt from my memoir: Russians, Clowns & Drag Queens (letters to ed). Silver-lining… a necessity! It is incredibly personal and it is part of my gift to you!

I hope you enjoy!

…end of opening salvo.

pep talk of the day

By December 20th 2008 I will achieve an exceptionally high level of health and fitness.

obligate

*Final notice for pick-up*

Parcel

Last day for pickup: November 30th

It can only mean one thing: the season of obligations has begun.

It's sad she's sick and may not have much time left. It must be excruciatingly painful for her, I don't know for sure as I can only speculate, to be absent from my life, and to not face the demons of her past and move forward with the present. She is my birth mother after all. She may however, not give a fuck!

She is now my living/dying mother. She's known I know the truth for almost four years and she still hasn't acknowledged that fact. My ex-family of brothers/sisters through a niece/cousin sent word to me that she is ill and likely dying. "Bernice has cancer and has had a stroke. It doesn't look good. She may not have much time left."

I paused. Regained composure - fighting back tears. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she's at ease." How could she be?

She's lived a life full of lies. I don't know what brought her to hide --- again, I could only speculate. I don’t know what could have possibly happened for her to run when the truth be told. I don’t know what prompted her to cause pain, instead of embracing possibility. I can’t understand. She’s never given me the chance. I feel sad for her. For me.

My niece/cousin continued: "Are you going to fix things with her. She's your mother."

Another pause. "Sweetie, how can I fix something that I never knew was broken. All I did was be born."

"She's your mother."

"All I did was be born. A happy ending isn't likely. A reunion when the only separation came from her heart and soul, can't exist."

Over forty years of this cover up, this ruse, and to now pretend some more and try to offer up explanation... impossible. I think. Where would one start? And if starting was a remote possibility, it would have to be her to initiate the first move... all I did was be born.

After the last key stroke of my uncle cousin - niece cousin conversation I retreated to the couch to regroup before work and I broke down. Tears flowed relentlessly as I became engulfed in my mothers pain. I became consumed by the charging emotions and swallowed with trying to understand why my life was never celebrated.

A letter was sent:

Dear B

Hello!

I don’t know where to start or for that matter what to say as I write this letter to you. The last several years have been filled with deep emotion and confusion over the facts of my life that had been kept secret from me ---- after all, I’m the one this news had the most impact on.

First off, Robyn has just informed me of your health concerns and as much as I worried one day a day would come where unbelievable emotional anguish would be thrust upon me and I’d have to come to terms with and learn how to cope and place meaning on the events of the past. I thought when this time came I’d grow hard and be devoid of emotions. That’s the furthest from the truth. After I was told, I lay on the couch and began to cry. It saddens me deeply that you are ill. I hope and wish you fight through and recover.

As I lay crying, thoughts were rushing through my mind. These thoughts have been pacing through my heart for the last several years. Anger, hurt, despair, confusion, heartache and many more emotions have at times been debilitating. I don’t understand what happened and why my life had to be such a secret to everyone. The secrecy held me back and must have been a tremendous burden on everyone who participated in the lie. I can’t say I understand nor will I ever. I’m not sure that I need to. I’m happy with who I am and who I’m becoming.

The pain of not participating in my life must’ve been unbearable at times for you. Do you not feel a need to clear the air? To have some semblance of closure?

For the longest time I wanted to scream at you. I was left to find out the truth about my life by accident. B, a civil servant told me after the worst two months of my life. It devastated me…

…B, I’ll never fathom why you chose to stay in my life. It wasn’t all good and it isn’t good now. The emotionless cards and gifts dig deep into my heart and inflict intense pain. I cry every time I receive them…

…That day I lay crying, I was crying because it was your responsibility to tell me the truth. Crying because you missed that opportunity. Crying because my mother stayed in my life and failed to be a part of it. Crying because you’ve missed my life. Crying because I can’t see a happy ending…Nobody helped me pick up the pieces. Nobody told me they loved me. Nobody said sorry. And most important, nobody acknowledged that everything in my life changed in an instant. Instead, my friends picked me up, dusted me off and told me that they loved me. I can’t explain how much that saddens me that it wasn‘t the family…

…It didn’t have to be this way. Get better. Be happy. I forgive you.

We can’t change the past, all we can do is control how we react to the present.

Wishing you a speedy recovery and much happiness in the future.

Love

Your Son Lindsay

Today I picked up the parcel. This year will certainly be different. It has to be. Open the package, no card. That’s odd. Usually it’s a picture of a tree or a horse or something, and upon opening, my name and the names of my sister aunt, brother uncle, sister mother, and a dog. God, my life has turned into a series of confusing flip-charts to help me define reality. The card must be inside of the gift. I don’t want to open it, but I need to see the card. Without a question this year there will be some sort of explanation: The times were tough when you were born. I was going through a difficult time. Something tragic happened and I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even need a sorry, just some form of acknowledgment that they understand my life has changed. Something!

Silence, and a box, is what I’ve received. It hurts.

“It’s the thought that…”

Don’t go there. There is no thought present. Just more hurt.

I share this equation because it is much larger than just me. Believe me, this pain echoes loudly in the hearts of many as we enter the Christmas season. Others who’ve had to face why? I’m not crying about my situation. I’m just trying to put it someplace where it can slowly flicker away. I can’t, though. I can only hope to cope.

“You’re better off…”

Yes, but how can that be?

Obligation without love is a constant reminder. Maybe I’m being too dramatic. Maybe me and all the others struggling to find identity are clamoring to the wrong audience. And, that audience lay in congruence, replying with, “get over it.” I will. A lie. But I’ll still be okay. All I did was be born, like others, and it wasn’t our fault.

Some may blast: “You’re being selfish. You need to fix things. Give her peace. Forgive her. She doesn‘t know what to say to you.”

Perhaps, a little, and I have forgiven her, I’m just sad now. Time is running short and I think we may have missed the opportunity long ago. I cry.

The holidays are coming and alone without family seems to be the menu for the season once again. That’s okay. I make the best of it. You can, too. A full spread, turkey and all the dressings. Friends are invited, both close, and those I barely know who are removed from love as well. It’ll be a great day without obligation or condition. Well, not entirely, there is one condition: WELCOME.

I will survive and grow more loving from my experience. My heart will always remain strong. I have no choice in the matter. I didn’t write this part of my script. My only wish for Christmas and the years to come, hopefully, one day, I find the strength to let someone in.

what’s it all about?

The toughest question?

Answerless?

Life issues challenges we must overcome. Not without trials, tribulations, and the odd flat along the way.

Just when you think you have life intricacies under control, trauma may rear its ugly head. Once you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, you realize --- you don’t know squat, and maybe, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Sometimes the ones who are supposed to love you, unconditionally, don‘t, leaving you cold and broken. Magically, when you least expect it, a complete stranger may help you pick up the pieces --- without motive.

Love has no rhyme or reason. It grips us, consumes us, and it can leave us quivering in a corner, trying desperately to hold on. When it’s pure --- nothing’s more beautiful.

Some tempt fate and live long lives. Others live “cleanly” and are taken from us in a flash, leaving us: cynical, bitter and jaded.

The young can’t get there fast enough. They speed race, experiment with drugs, sex and alcohol. Some do it as an act of rebellion. Others because they‘re screaming out for love in our divorce filled world.

Adults place blame --- often missing the boat. It’s far easier to blame drugs, video games, society, etc…

Maybe it is the video games fault, I used to play “Pong” and afterward, I’d drive like a bat out of hell.

I’ve chased “gravy” and was once given a chunk of change --- compared to hearing: “I love you.” The money --- worthless.

The keys:

• Live life to the fullest.
• Understand love is out of your control. You can’t “win” love and if you could: it wouldn’t be love.
• Accept that sometimes we need to say goodbye. You will if you love yourself.
• Pursue your passions and don’t compromise the sincerity of the pursuit.
• Rise above defeat and keep victories in hand.
• Realize career and material goods are nothing more than fleeting at best.
• Tell family and friends: “you love them”. Even if you struggle to find the words.
• And, try to leave the world a wee bit better than it was than when you arrived.
  

The road is filled with pot holes, poor choices, blind corners, and the occasional flat. Sometimes several flats at the same time. Regardless of whether the flats were of our own doing or a product of fate, it’s time to get out the jack, pump up our hearts, souls, and egos and move forward.

Hopefully, there is a long road ahead filled with happiness.

As for me, I want to slow it down and share it with others.

In fact: I may park my car and walk.

Since I no longer play “Pong,” there’s no need for speed.

Seasons Greetings Friends. I wish you and yours all the best for the years ahead. And remember, be good to others, you never know what’s on their emotional plate. A smile and a friendly hello can go a long way to offering hope for the future.

progress report

I did a wee bit of slipping up on the progress this week. Things were going along famously and I tripped. I let a couple of dashes of depression sneak into the picture and threw some of the gains out the window. Luckily, the gains got caught up on the window lacings and are still within reach with a quick spin of the wheel. I don’t have window lacings. Hush!

“THE GIFT” came, from this point forward - if it is referred to again - it will be called: THE GIFT. I let THE GIFT dictate my spirit. I unwisely expected something that’s not there, leading to, a calorie smorgasbord, and beer, I know, I know, prohibition was short-lived, with the excuse of the unrelenting struggle to come to terms with life as the culprit. I’ve heard the struggle is called: LIVING.

I’ve managed to set THE GIFT aside for the time being, I must, as it’s important to regain focus. Doc., is up for Wednesday afternoon. Fasting is on the docks, beginning Tuesday.

“Hey, above you said, Monday?”

I know, but THE GIFT hit hard and it took me a day longer to discombobulate and come to a place where I could gesticulate my disapproval of my slip.

Gestures aside: I will reach the goal. I’m the test-subject --- it’s important for my mental well-being. 155 here I come. Soon I will turn pain into comedy.

OUCH!

You can’t keep me down for long --- I’m writing the script now!

Positive came from my near fall from grace --- I got to hang out with a great young man for a bit on Sunday, Peter. We shared experience. Discussed what matters. He’s in the process of putting his life into perspective and deciding what matters to him. I can’t imagine what that is like for someone his age in today’s world. I see some of me in him. We overanalyze and forget to enjoy.

Another friend, Scottish Andy, on Saturday night while I was storytelling, broke into my thoughts, “Lindsay, you’re without question filled with passion. That’s a great thing. Slow down. Breathe. Don’t forget to enjoy.” He then hugged me and smiled. He wasn’t judging. He’s a good man. In fact: this is the second installment of him in my writing.

Twenty minutes later another individual stated., “You’re one of the funniest people I’ve ever met.” I’m not sure what I was saying or doing, apparently it was gold.

“Nah. Go on now.”

“Seriously. Hilarious! May I kiss you!?!”

“Not right at this moment.” Served with a smile. That was certainly an interesting moment. I guess I’m breathing. Smile.

In my time with Peter, I was continuously grinning. It was brilliant listening to someone who is trying to find meaning. Selfishly, it removed me from doing so my self. I thank him for that. He’s a bright guy, he’s aware of what matters, for the most part (in my opinion), I hope in his journey he smiles more than he frowns. He’s leaving Vancouver soon, our loss, he’s got family and friends who are important to him and he misses their support back home. I admire that sentiment.

As my the world was spinning around me, and I was letting it drag me down, Peter’s presence helped for a moment pull me away from me. And, who I’m becoming became more important than what may not exist. I relaxed. Friends are so incredibly important. Even if the friendship is just for a moment.

“Lindsay, you’re so easy to be around. Calming.” Magical words to hear. I’ve heard them before. I think I’m a tad crazy --- racing out of control. Maybe I’m not so much. A tad is a good thing, though --- it helps suppress trauma. It’s great to hear someone think my traumas are under control. They’re not so much.

The point: I’m not going to let a slight step backward detour my movement for too long. I refuse to be hard on myself. I’ve got a long road in front of me. My challenge is not just for me, it’s for anyone who comes onboard for the ride. My part is simply to focus ---and see where that focus takes us!

Last thought on the progress: I’m backing off of this weeks weigh-in, it has now been rescheduled for Saturday, December 8th. And, I think when you read below, you too will cut me some slack on my slip-up.

fitness fact/tip

Regular exercise helps to lift your spirits!

On the other end of the fitness/exercise spectrum, far away from the obsess of, “Do you mind if I work in with you? Share the bench?”

“No. I’m super-setting. I’m using every weight in this area. Gotta blast my pecs! Add an inch to my guns of death. I need all of these weights.” Is a place where fitness and exercise lives in harmony with a healthy lifestyle. It’s a place of balance and understanding. A place where you realize it’s a life long commitment to the betterment of self and a means to help you live life to the fullest. Once you draw this conclusion, then, and only then, will you truly gain the countless benefits from your fitness regimen. HEALTH IS A LIFELONG THING. An extra inch on the pipes of impending doom, for the most part, pointless.

To get that particular headspace of health, first off, it’s best to spend most of your time participating in activities you thoroughly enjoy. Be that, tennis, skiing, golf or even dancing. If it happens to be weight-training, so be it, just be careful, and if you find yourself trying to catch a glimpse of yourself off any thing that creates a reflection… it may be time to think over who you’re really working out for.

Fitness has helped me to deflect the proliferation of challenges which have come my way. It’s offered a place of escape, a respite. Most important, keeping in reasonable physical condition has gone a long way to helping me stave off depression. It’s an absolute necessity. I struggle with it.

Depression takes on many forms. Poor eating (fast-food). Too many cervezas. Sometime questionable sexual practices which strip away your soul. And even trips further into the dark side… where all roads lead to destruction. Support may be absent for you depending on your situation, however, regardless of circumstance, positive has to trump destructive. Thus, it’s paramount to stay aware of down lingering in your life. Fitness is a tremendous way to do this. Betterment of self complete with the endorphin rush is a blessing not to be overlooked. Food, alcohol, sex, drugs & rock n’ roll, only cloud over reality and often make tragic, fatal.

Why the trip to a depressive state?

This weekend I stumbled across an article in the local paper:

How many stress factors do you have in your life!
(Dr. Dave Hepburn).

The good Doctor has put together a ‘stress meter’ to help troubled souls to determine if the loads of daily life are leading to…

On the stress-meter a bench mark of 300 points is used to determine the likelihood of serious illness coming ones way. Forty-three events are listed ranging from: Death of a spouse; to pregnancy; to change in social activities; to Christmas; all the way to minor violations of law. In 2003/04 when a bright light was shown on my life and a fog of secrecy began lifting --- leading to a fractured truth, I scored 495 on the scale… not good. Current year, 2007, by all indications, as sad as this is to say, I’m okay to be teetering on the edge. This year alone my list of events to date is as follows:

1. Death of a family member x 2*.
2. Personal injury or illness.
3. Laid off at work.
4. Poor health of a family member x 2.
5. Gain a new family member.
6. Change in financial status.
7. Change to different line of work.
8. Change in work responsibilities.
9. Outstanding personal achievement.
10. Trouble with boss.
11. Change in work hours/conditions.
12. Change in sleeping habits.
13. Christmas
    

Surprisingly, parents coming back to life, family alienation, a relentless effort to get my manuscript published, meeting your father for the first time, having to tell your father who you’ve just met that he’s not your father, discovering your mother is sick and dying (for the second time), and the constant “your challenges are no big deal, so, get over them. A lot of people have their parents come back to life with one denying the fact that she’s your mother and the other who wanted the responsibility of his role only to have the role extracted by DNA.” Are not on the list.

*My mother is dying and the day I found out my father wasn't my father was like my father died again have been placed in: the death of a family member category.

As for my 2007 score to date: 555. I don’t want the fucking high score. My life isn’t Pac Man, and I don’t even care if the Pac Man reference has dated me. In this instance, I’m pretty certain high score ain’t such a good thing. “Hey I just scored 950 on Dr. Dave’s stress meter.” Smile. Gasp.

Nudge, nudge, “He just kind of dropped. I don’t think he’s breathing. Hey mister… mister, wake up. Oh well, at least he finished with the high score."

I think more life would be better.

Bingo!

To get there sometimes we have to admit that we might not be okay. And, that’s okay! It’s a great starting point and being in touch with yourself, brilliant, something many never take the time to do.

Whatever challenges come rolling, blasting or crashing your way, please don’t forget to take care of yourself… I have at times and the end result --- I end up feeling like crap and have brought another potential catastrophe to my door. Without care… and without health, nothing else matters. And besides, whether we know it or not, some fantastic people, both new friends and old, love each and everyone of us and want us to remain in their lives.

Bonus morsel:

Part of the tripping up program these few days lead me to accidentally eating the bonus morsel. Sorry!

consumed

day eleven thursday nov. 29th

• B’fast: ½ glass mango smoothie. 90
• V8 Go 90
• *Bread Garden Blueberry Muffin 640
• Lunch: Toasted chicken sandy. 350
• 60 grams peanuts. 360
• 2 iced tea. 300
• Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
• Dinner: chicken 300 g. (223 c 100 g.) 525
• Peas 80
• Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
• 2 iced tea. 300
• G total for the day. 3005 glutinous day
  

day twelve nov 30th

• B’fast: Blueberry Pomegranate 110
• Sobee Green Tea Iced Tea. 120
• Blueberry scone. 150
• Lunch: Vera Burger w/cheese 630
• 2 Iced tea. 300
• 30 gms. Peanuts 180
• 4 pints 600
• 2 slices spicy chicken pizza 300
• G total for the day. 2390
  

day 13teen Saturday dec 1st

• B’fast: Blueberry Pomegranate 110
• Lunch: Toasted chicken sandy. 350
• 60 grams peanuts. 360
• 2 iced tea. 300
• Oops… 4 more pints 600
• Popcorn. 360
• G total for the day. 2080
  

day 14teen Sunday dec 2nd

book update

I took the time to write the good Dr. above --- updating him on my “stress score, and doing a wee bit of networking.

love is in the air

Nothing new to report this week.

financial forecast

Scallywag.

randomness

I flash to the future, Tuesday, December 4th. How?

I’m a little behind on the updates, I talk/share a lot, and my slow formula has allowed me to venture into the future, gain some information, and post it in the past.

One of my fellow drivers, Jim, seventy-two years old, just returned to work after being absent for quite some time. His absence was due to illness. You could see an uneasiness with being back as he was trying to fit in again, and needs the income for his survival. He asked a lot of questions and his return may have reduced the workload for the rest of us, basically, reducing our pay. At first I felt frustration. My finances are okay, but they’re fragile. I am an aspiring writer after all. After a day passed my frustration subsided. There’s lots of work to share, and besides, the job is just a sign of what my “real” mother always told me, “you’ll never amount to anything.” Not that there is anything wrong with the work --- I’ve learned gads about compassion and the importance of looking deeper without judging. The world, in my opinion, though brilliant, is troubled. The lost souls I drive cement that fact. And unfortunately for most of them --- they’re stuck in the cement and they don’t know how, or want to, pry themselves free. Their pain has for the most part become their identity. I don’t want it to be mine.

Jim died a week ago. I was told on this day. The news numbed me. I didn’t know him all that well, however, for about a year we chatted nearly everyday. We’re from different swatches of life, but that doesn’t matter. Nevertheless, his passing hit home, “Jim died. A week ago.” I interjected into the statement inquiring whether their was a service for him. “No. People don’t do things like that very often anymore.”

Jim died. There has to be more to the end than two words, doesn’t there?

I need to get unstuck, lower my stress score --- it’s imperative I purge, and refocus on good. I’m a good man. A kind man. My family is missing my life --- all of us lose and I just feel sad for them. My story just represents my attempts to dissemble the new evidence, wash it, absorb it, and put it away somewhere out-of-site. I must share it! Telling it is part of becoming aware.

Becoming aware allows me to turn it into comedy! I will in a bit. *SMILE*

My first drive of this morning, during a near-monsoon, I hit a pot hole dead on. Fucked a rim and a tire*. I remained calm. I think I need to stop being calm. I need to find a way to let some things go!.. It’s time. I’m just not sure how?

My family is gone --- I need to accept the love of others. I give much. I think. I must drop my guard. “I’m easy to be with. Calming.” Accept it.

Another friend who lives in LA, has called repeatedly, “Are you okay? I’m worried about you.” Fantastic!

My closest friends, I’ll mention two here, Wayne, Greg… call regularly for updates, “Thanks for making me laugh, Lindsay.” Wow!

Two strangers as I staggered off prohibition and had a few pops this past weekend, “I know you…You’re the writer guy, right? We met about three years ago. It’s good to see you again.” Likewise. “It’s great to see you, actually. We owe you a big thank you! We were sitting at opposite ends of the bar and you were in the middle, without effort you orchestrated the conversation including the two of us. We’ve been best friends ever since. Thank you!”

Really? I thought. I felt a chill. I really didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Really!

My story is numbing --- I will survive. I will push forward, gaining compassion with each step.

*Could my tire/rim tragedy be a product of a recent ask seed posting: Mr. X Saga - part five. Check http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ for details. In a nutshell, I may have challenged the big entity above. I may have used strong language. I’m certain I questioned the path we’re being led on. And I know I may have…

Anyway, I’m not anti-deity, I just think perhaps, just perhaps, the coffee breaks upstairs need to be shortened, and hanging around celebrities in trouble, athletes and politicians, may not be the best use of time.

“Paris, how do you feel now that you’re released? Are you changed?”

“I found God on the inside.”

Really?

Last thought before my trip to the depression shredding gym: In the same ask seed answer I may have suggested some fresh rules to live life by. I think I suggested for non-compliance: you don’t get to play anymore. I want to make it abundantly clear: I don’t mean to eliminate life from the rule breakers. Instead, I think part of the platform could be turning Australia once again into a colony of hooligans (we’ll offer new homes to the current residents who’d choose to leave, if they don’t want to live amongst hooligans). We’ll take away all modes of transportation that allow leaving. This way they can play by there own rules and not effect the lives of others. And I’m 99.9999% certain the Big Guy will pay them a visit!

I almost forgot --- sex is fine, just be safe, never manipulative, and as long as you’re not hurting anyone, including you, have fun! It’s a beautiful part of life!

be happy!