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Beginning Again...Still

Seems like I am perpetually here.  Right here, where I am beginning again, still.  And it isn’t bad.  It isn’t always good either.  It is just life, I guess.


It is amazing to me that no matter how old I get, I am still surprised at life’s little twists and turns.  The sudden departures from roads I was sure I would travel on forever.  But no, the path forked, turned away or toward and off I went in some new direction I didn’t see coming.  


And I suppose I would be remiss if I didn’t also grant that some of these gross departures have granted me access to a better life than I would have had I stayed the previous course.  


All of this is to say that whatever is happening is most likely what is supposed to be happening and the only one who is never completely sure is me...and maybe a couple of other people I know.


I am also amazed at how differently I handle these sudden alterations, these detours to the life I think I am going to have or sometimes, am having.  Sometimes, I am just so accepting.  Hard rights are handled with an aplomb and finesse that in retrospect I am absolutely sure I didn’t possess in that moment in time.  But then, then there it was.  Competence at something that I did not see coming and was often less than pleased about.


Then there are those other times, those many, humiliating other times when something so slight happens that derails my instant plans and KABOOM I act like a nuclear blast went off in my life.  And in reality, I am 5 minutes late for an appointment.  I forgot to call someone back.  I was a jerk to someone else because I was five minutes late and allowed that to stress me the fuck out and then I took it out on you.  (Being late does this to me every single time, so does being tired or hungry).


So I have developed an iffy spiritual practice...I say iffy because I am sure there will be scoffers who will say this is NOT a spiritual practice, but I swear on all that is holy and good that on many days this is the most spiritual practice I can muster...


Get out of bed

Check myself for resentments or other defects

Yell Fuck

Begin Again

Still


And so this is how I begin some days.  Sometimes I need this practice at the middle and end of the day.  And there are still other days that this is all I feel I do all day long, repeatedly.


The most important part of the whole practice is that I get up and I start again.  The checking and yelling fuck is really just support for the other two.  And I do it still.  Meaning I just keep doing this no matter what, day after day, week after week.


And this has become the backbone of my life I get up, suit up, say fuck over and over and over to myself until I feel better and then I begin again.


It works.  I am living proof.


Again.


Still.




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