I get in my feels around this time of year about my other child Southern Culture. It opened up on this week back in ‘12. It was 13 years ago but for some reason time doesn’t move the same for me like it used to.

I dissociated with the company in 2020 same calendar month. It’s been five years since I stepped foot in my old kitchen. I spent a little over 8 years there. I put my key in that front door locking mechanism more than anyone to this day. Some days I feel like I just left the restaurant. Like I’m still wearing my faded black Carhartt pants and chef coat. I can remember opening day like it was last month.

The 8 years feels like 20. I obsessed over the feeling of owning my own restaurant for over 6 years before it opened and later I would stew bitterly about my departure. The passing of my old partner and friend Jim last year jolted me back to reality.

I made peace with that bitterness. I caught a lot of shit from Jim about my drinking and the personal recklessness it brought to my personal life. I didn’t want to hear anything about it. It comes with the business I always told him. To survive in this industry you have to embrace the chaos. Control it so it doesn’t break you.

Nah it still gets you. You get so caught up in the process/system that you know longer recognize the trauma getting sown into your soul. I was a gung-ho restaurant employee. I was a soldier in the trenches for years, high level management for a spell and then owner/chef for a decade.

It turned me into a raging maniac. I used to get angry when I reflected that way. Now I’m smirking at my phone.

My expression reflects my peace. That’s a good thing.

I have to grab myself by the mental collar when I think things like “if I opened up one more spot it would be Southern Culture again”. The love is there just not the energy or passion.

Once I realized my life has been chapters of lessons and growth I’m able to reflect rather than to stew.

Like an old relationship with your soulmate that didn’t work out the way you planned.

I’ve been in the new spot a few times it’s still southern to me. It always will be.

I used to stand on that line during brunch and watch all of customers filling the tables and bar and think to myself “you built this”

I also would stand behind the line on a Thursday night with 6 tables in the dining room at 7:00 pm and think the same exact thing.

It was quite a seesaw.

That part I still have head issues with when I feel the same feeling cropping up on a slow deli day. The business always comes back around but I’ve put padlocks on a lot of doors over the years.

I’m still trying to make peace with the head games.

Baby steps

At least I don’t have hangovers in my way.

I had a text the other day that read “my dad would be proud of you” and it got in my feels. As I was building Graze he was in the back of my mind the whole time. “Hey I took your advice and it’s working for me. Look what I’ve done with it”

Oof I’m so much more emotional now than I used to be.

The maniac is waning. He has waned away for the most part.

You were a good man Jim our convos would be a lot different now. You didn’t want me to be “Bam Bam” I get it.

I haven’t written in a while in all honesty I haven’t had much to write about recently. That’s not a negative thing I usually write to release. My energy is on autopilot. I’m not stagnant I’m only still.

Meditation is amazing

Still smirking 🫡

She would be 13 this week. I could sit down and write the entire menu with my eyes closed.

I reflect now with ease. I’ve done my fit pitches and my sad eulogy.

This is an entirely different goodbye. I do these rituals of passage now for certain eras of my life. I write them out and once I’ve acknowledged them for what they are, what they were I close the chapter.

All this means is this is my last time I’m going to write about it. Last time I give it attention on paper and in my mind. I’ve gotten quite good at this I’ve filed away around 15 years of another era of mine recently.

I’ve closed the file on some old childhood traumas, old relationships not because I still yearned for them but because over the years they’ve attached themselves to my character and personality. Writing helps

Trauma release and seal the deal. Acknowledge the scar and move on.

Reflection should be as such. You change the perspective and the reflection goes along for the ride. Your reflection is how you see yourself. You and only you. When you change that perspective it becomes your new history.

You can literally rewrite your entire life story with changing your perspective.

That’s a powerful tool my man.

Southern is no longer a “what if” for me.

When I reflect on it now it’s a little novella of my life that I got to experience and share with some amazing people.

That’s all and that’s a good all yall.

My shoulders feel lighter already.

I’ve managed to release another decade of weight from my body. My morning walk will reflect.

Cheers. Life’s beautiful y’all.