CLOSE TO SANITY

Back home. So strange how, after all these miles and experiences, you wake up and it all seems like a dream. It all seems strange, to be honest. Days, weeks, months and years. Best not to dwell to long on it, or I will get swept up in a river of thinking. pulled under by the currents of time, thrown to the surface by unforeseen circumstance, and pummeled by a storm of lament. 

Wow.

What a happy thought.

Sometimes, it just goes that way.

I'm sitting in my den, working on coffee number one, fretting about everything and nothing and all that's inbetween. The usual morning existential blues. I think it is good to ponder, as long as it doesn't take over my life. 

I am such a lucky soul. I have so much. A home. A family. Friends. Job. Writing. Theatre. Film. Travel. 

Even so, at times, I find myself waking up before the alarm clock and wondering about it all. What does any of this mean? Have I chosen the right path. Should I have done other things? 

All the great "What Ifs of Life" that people my mind.

And as usual, I come to the conclusion that regardless, Life is meant to be lived. Examining it from time to time is part of the deal, and necessary, but so is being in the moment. Appreciating how nice it feels to take a morning stroll and feel cool air on my skin. To find a new song by a band I never heard of. To share a look with a random dog I pass. To work on a new story. To watch a favorite film. To argue about stupid shit. To spill coffee on my shoes. To tell a joke that doesn't land. To tell a joke that does land. To clean up a mess. 

Really, this beats being a chair or a rock or an electron floating in the void.

I don't know if life is a simulation, part of a plan by celestial beings, or what- but I do know I am here. I think, as our old pal Des Cartes said, therefore I am. 

Okay. Had to get that out. I have lots that needs to get out. 

On a constant basis. I think that's why I write. It keeps me close to sanity.

I have a few things going on this fall. Top of the list, my short film Burning the Old Man, based on my play, which I co-directed with my dear friend Timothy McCracken, will have its world premiere at the SOHO International Film Festival on September 20 in NYC. I am going. This will be the first time I sit in a theatre and see my name on the credits. I am excited. I want it to go well. I want to make the full length. I want so much. The fact that it is happening, that I get to be there, in NYC, where my writing career began, is amazing. 

A shot in the arm. An ego boost. A party. 

And before, during, and after said party, I have new stories to write, classes to teach, plays to direct, movies to make, trips to take.

It takes a moment for me to breathe, to realize how much I have. I don't mean to negate my morning blues. I think they are important. I do not wish to ever pretend life is not hard, puzzling, and far too short. I also do not wish to disregard the magic, the joy of it all. It's both. Every day. 

Up and down. High and low. Happy and sad. 

Here's a song. I somehow missed it when it came out. But I do love it now. It's At the Bottom of Everything by Bright Eyes.