Bearded Gang

My goal is to type 1000 plus words when I write. I don’t count them but my previews let me know how many words, characters and blocks I use. 1000 just seems like a solid number to get my point across. I usually write from my phone but on occasion I’ll use my laptop specifically bought to write with. It’s just a habit of mine to use my phone since I seem to have it in my hands 75% of my day.

I’m currently wrestling with my addiction to this little texter and scroller.

I’ve been writing for almost 2 years now although I’ve ramped it up a bit over the last 8–10 months. My noise canceling headphones have done some amazing work with my focus. No, I’ve never been diagnosed with ADHD in all honesty I’ve probably been to the doctor three times in the last 30 years so I haven’t been diagnosed with anything but spend a day with me and tell me what you think. Writing pins me down in a good way. When I write I put on some soft frequencies and let my thumbs go crazy. I rarely have a subject line I’ll sometimes begin to write and then I’ll go back and rearrange my thoughts.

I just write what comes out.

Often times my daughter will have to poke me to let me know it’s time to take her to school. I might write for up to three hours if I’m in my own little meditative world. Being half blind comes in handy. I can see a gnat’s lips close up but I can’t see my feet without my glasses. Unfortunately I can’t see close up when I wear my glasses so when I write I’m hyper focused because I can barely see or hear a damn thing other than what’s directly in front of me. Quite the optometry paradox.

Focus 2.0

Writing is a part of my meditation. It lowers the survival mode in my brain. The more I write the more things I let go. I truly believe writing down what’s on your mind is the best therapy. When it’s out there for you to read it’s easier to reckon with.

When I’m done writing I go for a walk. I wear the same headphones although I don’t keep them on noise cancellation because I need to have some awareness when I’m walking so I don’t become a speed bump. When you’ve hiked as many miles as I have you get a thing about looking over your shoulder to make sure there’s nothing big and furry walking behind you. Sometimes trees fall out of nowhere too. Once you’ve had one or two drop near you it will keep you on your toes.

When I walk I’ll go into a light meditative status for about half an hour usually after my first mile but never my last. Walking is a great way to clear your mind while also burning 100 calories per mile. I walk at a 15:00 to 16:00 minute pace. I try to put in at least 3-4 miles when I walk. It’s probably my favorite routine. I used to run the same mileage but my body told me it was time to stop. Maybe for good. When your body talks you listen.

I have two days off a week and if I’m home both days I’ll set aside 20 minutes to rest. That may be a quick nap or just covering my eyes and lying on my back. Bedtime routine for me is usually in bed by 8:30 and asleep by 9:15. My routine includes headphones and a specific playlist of music I listen to every single night. I allow this time to clear my head before bed. I’m done with waking up with bad things on my mind. I reckon with them at night in a casual way. I go out of my way to make peace with my day. If it’s a bad one I focus on making tomorrow a better one. If it’s a good one and I get more of these now than I used to I give myself a mental thumbs up.

I make it a point in my conscious mind that the last thing I think about before I go lights out is something positive. It may be an old camping trip I did three years ago or something a customer said about my business while eating in my shop. I give my brain a nice pat on the back, I physically smile and then I turn to sleep.

I shared these routines with you to give you some insight as to how often I meditate. I’ve spent the last 4 years of my life for the pursuit of level headedness and repairing my mental health.

Self evaluations

Meditation

Cleanse

Cleansing my body and mind of chemical toxins and mental ones.

Four years of reckoning from 30 years of self abuse.

Four years of speaking to and trying to read my self- consciousness aloud. The last year alone at least 1 hour a day of meditation and reckoning.

Quite the devotion if you ask me. Like any other practice if you do it enough it becomes part of you. The only thing that I’ve accomplished more in the past year would be charcuterie boxes. Both I have absorbed over the last few years. I can pretty much charcuterie just about anything now.

Go me

Charcuterie isn’t a big deal to me it never has. I’m making homemade, edible jigsaw puzzles in a box.

But

Take the first few I did when I started them and compare them now to what I can make now. There’s no comparison. Practice, practice, honing and research. I applied to this practice every single day. You do the same thing on a daily basis you get better at it. Especially if you focus on your improvement. I can say I’ve done this with meditation and writing.

I’ve logged some hours man. I do this to be the best composition for the people who love and support me.

I use a little self hypnosis at night to prepare myself for the following day. When I focus on the smiling things at night it sets me up for my algorithms the next day.

My mind lately has been on building my own physical and mental algorithms.

Algorithms in layman terms are “essentially a series of well-defined instructions that, when followed in a specific order, lead to a desired outcome”

You have them on your social media scrolling routines, your feeds, reels, advertisements. Facebook doesn’t create them you do for the most part. If you post “I love vacuums! as your status update on fb I’m willing to bet you’ll get some random advertisements for Roombas, carpet cleaners, Hoovers in the next hour or two. I like the Atlanta Braves, lifelong fan. I don’t engage in sport pages they annoy me but I’ll click on espn to see the scores and highlights of their games and my fb page wil start to slowly blend in all the Braves pages. If I engage they’ll stick around if I scroll past they’ll eventually fade and another interest of mine will take place.

If I opened up my search bar on IG right now all of my squares and rectangles will be filled with glimpses of camping vehicles, music videos and pics of Utah and Colorado because I’m going there next month and I’ve entered it as a keyword in my search bar. I built those. I’ll also get memes and some women bouncing around in bikinis that don’t quite fit because IG has my personal info. They have my date of birth and gender so they have a tendency to assume I’ll like these other things. They aren’t wrong mind you I just don’t search for these types things out just like I can’t help slowing my truck down when I come across a car wreck. I don’t wish to engage in these or I’ll be up to my neck in it. It’s not as fun as it may sound..

Facebook is easy to assign your algorithms. It takes all your posts and keywords, your comments on other pages, friends posts and engagements and any affiliations you may have with politics. They love when you engage in conflict. It sells Facebook tickets. Algorithms aren’t always things you like to see in all honesty I believe most of them are created to pull you in and not the opposite. If you complain about a drive-thru fast food experience you’re likely to find 20 McDonalds ads pop up in your feed. If you say you hate Musk you’ll get flooded with EV advertising and forums with discussions about burning Teslas and then you may get something about the old big hair band Tesla coming to a venue near you.

If you talk about an actor I imagine you’ll see a reel of an old movie scene with them appearing in it. I brought up a topic about my old Nissan 200sx and I’ll be damned if I didn’t see a pic of a similar one on fb.

There are billions of options of videos, pages, posts, reels, topics and opinions online that you are choosing consciously and subconsciously to fill your up social media scrolling gaps. Your social media scrolling is your’s and your’n alone. It’s scripted. You wrote it whether you meant to or not. Even your news feeds. You’re gong to read and hear exactly what you want to and then some on the opposing side .

Insert tunnel vision

You’re creating your own online reality with what you’re comfortable and what you like to engage in. Does this sound familiar with the subject of my last few posts? I hope so because it’s relative.

This can be unhealthy to some of us who get caught up in “these trying times” or “the new normal” I don’t engage in most of these anymore. I used too quite a bit. Current times have a way of shooting arrows of distraction and chaos in our already weary and over stimulated heads. It takes over our peace of minds. We allow it to with open arms and tablets.

Even work things, my professional page is filled with charcuterie and food pics. That’s tame compared to my personal one but I can only take so many charcuterie videos they are all literally the same. Charcuterie art has peaked we’re just moving things around differently on the platter. Also algorithms can be linked by annual or seasonal pop ups. I get the same charcuterie memes seasonally. Every Halloween I’ll get tagged in the same 4 Halloween charcuterie pics. I love you guys but I spend enough time doing chadcuterie in real life. I prefer to turn it off when I’m home. If I had the same amount of you actually buy my boxes as you tag me in posts I could retire.

Sorry that was a cheap shot. I’m working on that too.

I’m sure by now most of us are aware that our phones do listen to what we say and what we do. We blame it on Apple, androids, medias, politicians, demons and angels but we are the hosts. We are curating it. If you don’t want McDonald’s advertisements blowing up your feed then don’t eat there. Don’t post about it or anything about fast food places. I wouldn’t bring up Grimace or clowns holding hamburgers because algorithms are smarter than you think. We can also pick up them up just by driving by or near one.

Is there a musical artist you don’t like? Don’t talk about them online. Don’t engage on a post that they are mentioned because you’ll land on that algorithm. If you say “I can’t stand ________!” Welp you just invited them into your feed. You did this. Not Zuck he just supplies the grid.

You’re moving the chess pieces all on your own.

I left that part about the artist blank. Had I thrown a name in there it would be in my feed soon. Algorithms move place to place on frequencies. Just like we do. I get quite a few pop ups related to my blogs because the internet all comes together one way or another.

Here’s some positives about algorithms, you can control them. You have absolute control over your algorithms. If you’re like certain reels, forums and TikTok videos you can react and engage with them to keep them around. You can also block them if you don’t. Or just scroll on. Dont like seeing a certain page? Hide it. Do you keep seeing that same page or similar ones? Most likely you engaged on a similar one or you it’s closely linked to another interest of yours. You may love football but hate the Gamecocks because you’re a Clemson fan but you’ll never clear your feed of USC dander because they are linked. Polarization is a part of your algorithms. Man that’s a whole ‘nother topic I may try to consider but I may not here. Politics are the same thing. If you’re far left you’re going to get bombarded with far right extremism. If you engage. If you don’t like Musk you’ll still get him in your face and feed because you’ve most likely engaged in subject matter that he was involved in. Not only is he now living in your head he’s living on your feed. We do love to post about things we dislike in here.

If you’re pro something and feel strongly about it you’ll be handed the other side in your lap to deal with too. If you engage, you see an opinion you find completely ridiculous or wrong (in your opinion) and remark. You just invited that other person’s opinion and pov into your algorithm. Don’t get upset. You did it not the evil Zuck empire. As I said he just paints the grid. You’re moving chess pieces.

Some of us don’t pay attention to the walls we build around our media algorithms as we build them brick by brick. We get caught up in the ongoings of our handhelds and our perceptions begin to reflect that. Then they absorb it completely unless you pull out in time. Most of us aren’t paying attention enough to see it. It’s our own little social media reality we’ve created.

The more that I study and absorb the theory that we create our own realities the more I compare my existence to that of a Sim or a outside spectator of our culture and environment. The more I go down that rabbit hole the more I analyze myself as a computer host rather than a bundle of nerves, muscle, bone and organs.

If you pick up a new hobby or skill your brain is essentially downloading new information into you. Just like a new app. If you’re learning a new skill your brain begins to slowly download your new app to absorb all the rules, instructions of how to play the game (level of skill). How you retain it would depend on how much effort it takes to download (remember) or how much (muscle) memory it requires before you are comfortable using it without outside assistance.

Sometimes we get overwhelmed, memory gets janky and we need a reset. Whether that means a day of “self care” or a vacation to unplug.

*hits reset button

We have built in calculators. Some of us better than others. We have Google too when we have to remember something to recite or recall. Navigation built in although most of us can’t find our asses without a digital map nowadays. Myself included.

We of course all have our own volume levels, caps lock when we yell and space bars when we hesitate..

It’s easy to make these comparisons. Our brains are computers. You get the point I’m trying to make. You’re using your built in cameras right now 👀

They’re taking millions of pictures in your mind as we speak. Your brain is filtering out most of it, adding pics to your memory storage and pushing it into your iCloud.

I’ve hit some major highs and lows in my 53 years. I seem to recall the lows more than highs I suppose because happy things don’t leave scars. The past few months when I noticed my mental health revolving around the negative energy and thoughts surrounding me I decided to shake up my own mental and physical algorithms.

I made a list of things I like and things I don’t. I made another list of habits that are essential to me and ones that keep me orbiting around being an asshat.

And I merged them together.

I started creating a healthier algorithm for myself.

Real life is full of algorithms some obvious some not so much because they may be more mental than physical.

Here’s an easy example: my wife and I are looking for a future vehicle for our daughter. We are both fond enough of Subaru Outbacks and Crosstreks. When we started shopping on marketplace, I say shopping but it’s browsing we are in no hurry, I’d have a few in my marketplace feed for about two days before my entire feed became Subarus. Outbacks, Crosstreks for the most part and then following not far behind Forresters and Ascents. Algorithms are like Velcro y’all they aren’t one sided and they’ll pick up some similar things of interest along the way. Since I was looking at wagon style and all small SUVs I started seeing Rav 4s, Ford Escapes and some old Honda pilots. It opened my horizons to a few more options. Good job Al! We’ve been looking for about two months. For the past two months I’ve seen many, many Subarus on the road, parked in lots, sitting in driveways and of course ads out the wazoo on fb and IG. I doubt there was a huge fire sale on Subarus this year or that they became extremely popular recently they’ve been around for quite some time. My mental algorithms have kicked in. Your brain engages with what’s on your mind so now when a Subaru passes me or vice versa my brain clicks and points – “There’s one!”

Mine also does this with Tacomas as I drive one. It does it with roof top tents, campers and Tundras because I’ve always wanted one but $65k sticker prices can kiss my ass. If I pass ten I’ll see at least 9. I’ll acknowledge it without acknowledging it. It’s a part of my current algorithm. If you add a camper top to a jacked up tundra that’s gonna be a real life pop up ad for me.

Restaurants are too. I’m a “foodie” and my career revolved around food and consumerism so I’ll stare at new concepts being constructed and I’ll judge their themes and food. I drive by a hundred different buildings on Lauren’s daily and I will not be able to recall quite a few of them if they aren’t a part of my algorithms.

Vaccuum repairs?

Insurance companies Jesus they’re everywhere but I don’t even give them a second look. Nail salons? There are about 30 within walking distance from my work. I couldn’t tell you the name of a single one. Hair dressers? Have you seen my hairstyle? I drive by these daily without notice. They don’t pertain to me so my mind filters them out of my daily algorithm. Barbers I notice. I have a beard.

Speaking of, bald men with beards are a part of my algorithm. Can’t help but notice when a slight doppelgänger is in your viewing area.

I’m hyper aware of crowded places and shitty parking. Those are algorithms I avoid.

Music is a simple algorithm. You scroll through your musical feed until you find a (page) station you enjoy.

Think about the times you had a significant other break up with you. The whole “everything reminds me of them!” is relevant because your life mostly revolved around them and your shared algorithms with each other. Experiences, places you visited, friends and new hobbies you absorbed. You separate and now you drive around and hear a song that triggers their memory so you immediately change the station, you change your commute to work if it happens to pass by the coffee shop where you had your first date or you stop going places because they still hang out there. You are purposely changing your algorithms to remove them from your life and memory.

Been there done that.

We get your point so far Chad.

Our own Algorithms are perceptions and how we engage with them.

My morning algorithm for the last 7 months or so were filled with doom scrolling, reading reviews online, consumer opinions and studying competition. After breakfast it became idiot drivers, long loading traffic lights, broken turn signals and my dashboard clock that seemed to push me to hurry everywhere I went. My daily algorithms I found myself disliking the general public. It’s nothing personal it’s just no one has a sense of awareness anymore because life starts and ends with cell phones these days. I’m no different than anyone else for this although when I’m out and about I’m a survival enthusiast so I’m sizing everyone up as mall shooters or fbi agents following me around because of my Google searches.

Now I play a game called NPCs (non player characters) where anyone that’s doing the 100 meter mosey in front of I observe them as a player inserted to either slow me down or they’re just a construct of my imagination. I’ve discussed my newfound affinity for how we are apart of multiple realities and our brains create our surroundings like a very advanced Sims game. I can’t say that’s 💯 where I am at the moment but it’s very interesting the things you begin to notice should you do. There’s too many blips, flips, fluffs, puffs and whats going on around us right now to ignore it. I’m fascinated by it. I’ve told my wife for years I live in a Truman show because whenever I need to get somewhere in a hurry every single obstacle that’s possible obstructs my journey from point A to point B. The mountains feel like Fiji to me for the last 6 months between the hurricanes and now fires add road collapses and weather. If you get bored look at the weather on Sunday and Mondays the last 3 months I bet you’ll see around 4 sunny days combined.

Where was I? NPCs. I’m not saying that I’m surrounded by a bunch of souless characters or robots everyone has their own realities but sometimes I do feel like I’ve created a few with my mind. We all have stereotypes around us I often times think I’ve constructed them in my mind. You expect people that look a certain way to act a certain way. You’ve never seen a blue haired great grandmother pulling into a parking spot in a Dodge Ram 2500 or Jeep Rubicon have you? And then get out and walk 4 mph to the grocery store. She’s going to pop out of Buick Encore, walker in hand and proceed to spend 18 minutes walking to the entrance. Good chance my truck is right behind her as she walks in the middle of the parking lot. On Wednesdays there will be 49 of her. Gotta save that 5% at Publix. I never took this NPC thing seriously until about 2 months ago when I went to Target. While I was shopping for patio goodies for my shop I went to two different Targets three times in one week. I recalled seeing an older lady that resembled an old friend’s mother. She was shopping in the little area where for some reason the home goods are pricier. Maybe it’s a designer collection Im not sure. I always walk through it because I enjoy the energy of that little area (yeah I do this a lot) I wasn’t sure it was her and she wouldn’t know me had I introduced myself so I acknowledged the moment and went about my business. When I went to the Target in Greer I saw what looked to be the same exact person. I laughed at myself thinking that this was just a stereotype of what I would expect to see in this section. Not any different than seeing a young mother with two kids piled into a cart in the baby clothes section right by the cheap jewelry. Which I’m willing to bet you’ll see every time you go. It was when I went back the next week and saw what I would swear was the same woman. Same area. Pushing her cart the EXACT SAME DIRECTION AND AISLE that I decided to leave. This was about the time my brain screamed “Houston we have NPCs”

I’m lightly joking about this declaration in fact I was smiling when I left Target but I’m still looking for the game boy cartridge shoved up my rear. There are no such thing as coincidences.

Also speaking of stereotypes you’ll never see a bunch of bumper stickers on a the back of a $75k plus car. Ever see a “coexist” sticker on a BMW X5? Or a Ford F-150 for that matter. But that’s another stereotype.

My stress level went down and my coping level leveled a bit when I treated the general public as NPCs. I’m not treating them like they don’t exist. I can feel them coughing on me and sometimes I accidentally run into their shopping carts but it put me in the mindset that their actions shouldn’t absorb my actions. Their energy shouldn’t affect mine. Once I plugged that into my mind my algorithms changed.

Morning commute

I changed my focus from traffic and stoplights to engaging with my daughter more. I rarely have the stereo on and my phone is face down. My eyes are on the road and also on the homes I drive past on the way. Greenville for all of its faults is aesthetic and surrounded by flora especially now spring has sprung. I keep my speed level and easy. If someone tries to kill me with their driving prowess I don’t engage. I don’t even acknowledge their existence once I pass them. If I’m at a long traffic stop I get more time with my daughter after a decade of being an absent parent from working all the time.

I still get to work in one piece. My deli opens on time and my blood pressure thanks me for the new new algorithm/ perception I’ve created. Worse case scenario my potato salad gets served an hour later. Certainly not bad enough to keep my middle finger exposed to the elements. You could process this algorithm pattern as a perception also. It’s all relative.

I’ve changed my patterns of how I shop for my deli. I’ve always been a set up your station and run to the store before the rush. I would hit restaurant depot at 9 and swing by Costco right at 10am along with every elderly person in the upstate. Depot was always packed and understaffed when I went in I suppose most service industry people’s schedule aligns with mine it would make sense. It’s always an adventure when I go. In my head as soon as I leave for the store, I would begin a mental countdown. Deli opens at 10, it’s 9:45 I’m 7 carts deep in line and my cashier looks like a WWI war widow. I’m not moving anytime soon and I still have Costco to contend with. I can feel the negativity and stress rise in my blood. I’ve put myself in hurry mode. Something I’m very prone to. I’m angry with the establishment for putting me behind in a situation that I not only created for myself but I’ve put it on repeat for the last year.

It got too much for me and one day I got caught up in a few early boxes and had to put my shopping on hold. I was fortunate enough to not have a rigid inventory that morning so I put off my shopping until after lunch. I left for the store at 2:45 and breezed through depot and Costco in less than an hour. I repeated this for a couple of weeks and changed my routine. My daily algorithms responded in kind. Traffic got lighter, people were less peopling, less chaos and more smiles. Usually when I returned to work I’d have a story to tell about someone pissing me off. Now I go about my business. Another part of my algorithms seemed to be to look for things like that so I could aggressively engage.

The things that piss me off.

That chip I’ve always carried needed to go.

Algorithms are a step by step process or instruction of how you do things. Whether you’re making a vinaigrette or tying your shoes. Often times it’s routine.

I was doing things that piss me off on a daily basis. Routinely

And then getting mad at it.

I changed my algorithms. I changed my routines. All the while creating a new perception of how I see things. Things work well in 3s.

I implemented this as I do the same with my online algorithms. I don’t engage with politics, I don’t argue online anymore. I unfollowed and deleted quite a few triggers online. I quieted a few “friends”. I don’t read online news or watch their videos.

They sell fear and chaos. You don’t have to be a conspiracy theorist to see that.

I ran into a fb friend that works at Costco who remarked about my late afternoon new schedule. I told her I was finding new peace with myself. I had changed my algorithms.

We repeat the same things everyday it’s a part of our algorithms. Even when they don’t align with us because they’ve been in our algorithms for so long we don’t recognize it as something that we should reckon with. I personally no longer want to deal with things that upset me on a daily basis.

It’s my day and no one else’s.

It’s my life and no one else’s.

I’ve changed my morning routine around so I can jump start new algorithms. Once again -Routines are algorithms. If you feel like you’re in a rut, change something you do first thing in the morning. Even if it’s “f#% it I’m gonna do 10 jumping jacks” or sit on the other side of the sofa. Changing your patterns will jumpstart a new algorithm if you allow it to. That is if you don’t like the current ones you’ve built. Which I did not.

You’d be surprised at how one small glitch in your morning routine will realign your brain waves. We aren’t meant to be domesticated into certain routines. Or me at least.

Changing your social media algorithms helped me out too. I don’t enjoy reading political rhetoric at 5am. I don’t want to read about a skyscraper collapsing 8000 miles away 45 seconds after I wake up. For some reason there’s a large handful of you on here that really enjoy sharing bad news. I found myself doing the same for the longest time.

What upsets you or triggers you online will be outside waiting on you as soon as you leave your home. You’ve made it a part of your algorithms. Internet is reality for many of us. I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to say from the beginning. Political opinions have become a lifestyle for some of you. Virtue signaling for things you’ve never seen or experienced first hand. These are my triggers which is the only reason why I singled them out.

Morals and scruples are important to the fabric of our society. Just don’t keep tripping over your toes while you’re trying to show everybody how good you are at showcasing it. I’ve been there folks. I’m no better. I’m just trying to figure it all out for myself. When I write these I’m sharing what works for me. I know yall hate/love this word but we are all snowflakes. What works for me may not work for you.

I’m not selling courses.

I’m just trying to find my peace of mind.

Cheers

I’m currently juggling some different perspectives of religions, philosophies and psychologies. I’m miles down rabbit holes, conspiracies, big feet, aliens and pyramids (which are finally coming to light). I don’t visit these different levels of theories with psychosis blinders I’m a student of curiosity. Call it expanding my understanding of things I’ve dismissed my entire life. I enjoy turning my own little world into an episode of the twilight zone. I keep an open mind on most of what I come across. I get pulled into some fun things like the lost civilization of Tartaria not so much the Atlantis version. Maybe I just haven’t gotten there yet. I love to read about ufos and alien life I’ve said all along they come from the ocean. Did you know dolphins can talk? I’ll even go down some good theories of flat earth. No I’m not a flat earther it’s an entertaining argument to hear some other perspectives. They all seem to cross paths when you go deep enough. A lot of them always come back some old age wool being pulled over our eyes. The only thing I’ll say with zero pause or hesitation is I don’t and never will trust anyone in a high level position of government, large corporate owned media, church hierarchy or a famous actor who feels the need to push an agenda or a product.

If any of this triggers you I’d suggest closing this blog up now.

I have a healthy respect for authority when used to keep balance and nothing else. Don’t let people hurt other people or steal their things. That’s enough for me. Thanks for playing. Stay out of my personal life.

As far as spirituality I’m probably much more spiritual minded than most of you would think of me. I don’t believe in coincidence and I do believe in miracles. I’ve seen enough with my own two eyes to know that things come and go around for a reason. I’m probably not reading the same words out of the books you are but as I always say it’s the same people just different realities.

I’ve experienced some interesting things the since my little “awakening” on top of my truck on a little island south of Beaufort. Sometimes things find you when you least expect it. I’ve tried to write what I experienced that night but I haven’t quite grasped it and that’s fine because I don’t think it’s really even started yet.

One day I’ll put it into words. That day won’t be today.

I’ve been reading about quantum physics and or mechanics . I’m not smart enough to understand all the details in fact I feel like a chimp with an iPhone when I try to elaborate but when you take in enough information you at least get your mind to wrap around the subject. I know more than I did. Simple enough. I’ve been studying theory on how we are absorbed in billions of different realities, higher planes, creating our world from the reflections of our subconscious.

In easy layman’s terms, we are writing our own stories as we go along. Sort of what I’m doing here.

What you want to see is what you get. You build fears and boundaries from your self perceived experiences and our little brains keep us safe and warm from all the fun megabyte downloads that we may incur should we should we ever get to decalcify that ol pineal gland and or what the “mystics” call the third eye. Think of a perfectly shaped pine cone if that helps.

You think therefore you are. You aren’t a person who has a spirit. You’re a spirit wearing a human costume. An amazing one but still just a suit of flesh, nerves, hair and bone.

Energy.

As everything is.

Which is why I’ve been referring to frequencies, hertz levels, sounds. Astral projection, telepathy. I haven’t attempted either of these and I haven’t seen any living proof of such things but hell if the CIA practices it why can’t I?

Six weeks ago I paid little attention to these things. I do my little meditation sessions, I’d “time travel” as I refer to it when I’d revisit some childhood memories. I’ve been doing this for a year. Ive done morning walks for the last three years which is also a form of meditation. What I’ve managed to experience with this practice is a self hypnosis pattern. I’m able to release myself from my subconscious at times not all the time and not every time. I see and experience some visions (mostly dream state) nothing Dead Zone like, no visions of alien invasions, great floods or missing persons. Just a heightened level of awareness of my subconscious.

We almost separate into two thoughts. Almost but not even close yet. If that makes sense. I know it can be done. Im not there.

I’ve seen some glitches in things I used to take for granted.

*exhales

I don’t have the energy to write all of this out at the moment nor do I have enough data for it to make sense if I did.

Just imagine if reality is what you have programmed it to be. Or part of it because it’s filled with outside influences. Or distractions as I call it. What if you create your reality from all the experiences your mind has created for you? Your reality is just a regurgitation of self imposed memories, traumas of childhoods, relationships and other happenstances. Lost? Man me too.

When I hit my issues and perceptions of failures from my relationship with my dad during a self hypnosis tour one night it opened a door. Or as I call them downloads. You don’t get a small light that turns on your brain starts downloading data like an app on 5G. Logic and understanding streams like your connected to a cosmic Wi-Fi. Fun term for intuition. Your intuition is the real you trying to enter the chat.

I’m not good at writing what I’m trying to write..

Let’s jaunt sideways for a moment.

You’ve all heard my dislike for my neighbor that resides to the right of me. Neighbors that is, his wife is about as cuddly as a pissed off porcupine too. We moved into this house four years ago. We are renters for a while until we decide where we want to plant for good. It’s a free feeling I have no interest into being tied down anywhere right now. I’m in a state of roaming thoughts and vibes at the moment. When we moved here I’d heard some not so positive things about our new/old neighbors. They had a tendency for being surly and grumpy. They were hoarders and a little behind the times. Your first impression of these folk would be they are indeed stuck a little behind the times. They have multiple cars that rotate in and out of the shaded driveway that my neighbor seems to constantly have at least one hood open to the elements. That doesn’t really bother me my stepfather had an affinity for buying broken down old cars and kept quite a few in the backyard. They keep a lot of junk around the yard. Mostly half covered by a dilapidated privacy fence in the backyard. Old oil drum, car parts “they looked like tombstones in our yard 🎶 “ comes to mind when I see it. David Allen Coe was played quite a bit in my childhood days growing up in Piedmont. My parents used to have an old oil drum in the backyard. I had to sand it, prime it and paint it about half a dozen times. Idling wasn’t allowed in my parent’s household. Leaning meant cleaning. I can count at least four cars camping around their house right now. Tom, my stepfather had a chevrolet pickup, two comets and a 1940s something or another sorry yall I’m not a car person. He had a 65 lemans before that car. I totaled it while buying tickets for David Lee Roth and Poison. He also kept quite a few things in the backyard. Tom liked to buy things he saw value in. There is absolutely no knock or shade perceived on my stepfather while I make my connections here. I’m just telling a story. I loved Tom with all of my heart. It just took us some time to figure each other out. Tom was a patriot, a war veteran. He kept old glory 🇺🇸 flying off the porch of our house. Tom loved our country.

When we first moved here we got along ok with our neighbors. We were respectful, kept to ourselves. I’d talk to Don while I worked on my bus and he’d work on his truck. He would smoke some cheese and drop some off to the wife. I didn’t think he was that bad. I mind my own business. I was raised to.

Unfortunately some of my other neighbors don’t share that point of view and one of the them that moved here around the same time as us must’ve called the city on them about their yard, cars or flags I’m not sure but ol Don thought it was me. One day he decided to stomp over to the edge of his yard on a cool January day while I was cleaning out my truck and start screaming at me and calling me a word that Samuel Jackson uses quite a bit. He apparently thought I was the culprit of the phone calls to the city. I don’t even know how to call “the city”. Don is 67 years of age. He’s had a stroke or four. He’s about three inches taller than me but if we had a physical confrontation it would not go well for Don. His mind is a tad soft I think dementia has found its way into his head. I was in a no win situation. If I were to respond to Don as I’ve been primed to do from several misshaps in my youth I would’ve been painted a bully which is fun because if you knew my neighbor you would see know he is the epitome of what a bully truly is. I had a few choice words with him and left the experience with an unhealthy feeling of infuriation. Closure was difficult for me. I let a 67 year old asshat get in my head. At the time I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t let it go. The things going through my mind were unhealthy.

I have quite the imagination.

I haven’t said a word to them since that day.

My neighbors like flags. Really like them. They have at least 4 of them displayed in their yard. Three Trumps and a confederate flag.

Let me start off by saying this. Flags don’t trigger me like they do some. To each their own. I was raised by conservatives, I’m born and brought up in the deep south. I came from a region where kids wore shirts draped in the confederate flags, drew it on their notebooks and if we played civil war you want to know how many wanted to play for the south team? I’m not on here to chat about different philosophies about why the war was fought. I wasn’t around at the time. Again to each their own I’m so past trying to align myself with others who can’t agree I move on to doing me. Call it heritage call it anything you want but if you’re from California (where Don was born) there’s only one reason why you’d have that flag in your front yard. And the fact that he planted one right where I can see it when I park my truck tells you that he’s doing it to antagonize me. And for awhile it worked.

I recognize two flags in this state. American flag and the state flag. I honor one because that’s how I was raised. I have my father’s flag protected and honored in my home. Fly whatever flag you like. Do it for honor and glory. Not for aggression. It’s not my prerogative to acknowledge them.

Listen I’ve made it a point to not speak ill of anyone anymore but survey says

*ding!

*board flips over

“Don’s a piece of shit”

Crowd claps

He has some wonderful bumper stickers on his candy van that read “fuck Biden” “Joe and the Ho got to go”. My daughter got to see this stickers on the way to her middle school. It’s not the politics mind you. It’s the hatred.

Ok enough energy sucking on Don.

Let’s make the self created reality connection.

Are you ready?

My neighbors are a reflection of my life in Piedmont.

I live next door to my childhood memories from Piedmont.

Could you believe that I may have created this reality out of my mind? I’m sorry, my subconscious?

I was not brought into Piedmont via ticker tape parade. I was dragged to Piedmont from a split family/divorce that would shake my world up permanently.

8 year old culture shock. My childhood changed realities.

I hated Piedmont with every ounce of energy I could carry with me when we first moved there. Tom had a small house with a big yard full of hoarded parts and discarded junk. The day we arrived to his house the first words out of my mouth were “why is there so much junk in the yard?” My mother immediately slapped my leg. Not sure she’d ever done that before.

My first impression of Piedmont was well on its way.

I was isolated for the most part the few summers. My siblings were off doing their things the divorce really shook up the family. Most of my time was spent alone reading. Piedmont was a culture shock for me. I’ve written about it in a few blogs I don’t wish to focus on it at this time I may later down the road if I find it necessary.

I’ve talked about the daily bullying I received on the school bus, my dissociation with school.

I never received an explanation. One day I’m part of my regular family residing at an apartment complex. Next day I’m in Piedmont living next to a highway. No one told me what was going on. I wasn’t privy to the details.

No one EVER told me what was going on. Of course I figured it out but it took some time and some math that an 8 year old kid shouldn’t have had to do on his own.

Wild.

Wild that I just wrote it off that way as a child.

Repressed much?

Let’s connect some dots shall we?

My parents in Piedmont were

Tom and Peggy.

My current neighbors are

Don and Peggy

Tom met my mother when he moved back from California.

Don is from California.

Tom had up to four cars in our driveway and yard. Don has four cars in his yard.

Tom had an old Chevrolet pickup.

Guess who else has one in their yard as we speak?

I’m staring at their old rusted oil drum in their backyard. Broken old shed. Same kind that I used to rummage through in my parents backyard. I’d watch his wife Peggy meticulously sweep the front porch every day. My mom wouldn’t allow a twig on our porch. Peggy walks around the yard diligently picking up small bits of litter and leaves just like my Peggy.

Don called me a motherfucker. My trigger word is indeed that particular word because I was often called that by one of my biggest childhood bullies on the bus. Who’s name also started with a D.

When I had my coffee shop, Tom would always come by with food or pastries for me to share at the shop. God I miss that man.

Don would bring cheese.

Tom and I had our last real clash while digging up a trench for a septic tank. Don and I clashed over a cement trench that brought more water into his yard.

Got dang Peggy just got a new haircut last week. It’s a style my mother wore for years.

My Piedmont childhood trauma is right next door to me. It’s been there the whole time.

I could never quite figure out why almost 70 year old shithead could get into my head so easily and not be able to shake him off. I’d pull up to my house with my hands gripping the wheel. I wanted that house and everything sitting in it and around it erased. I fantasized about dragging my neighbor by the back of the neck around the block making him apologize to everyone he’d been a bully to.

Why would someone like that stick to me in such away.

Because I fucking created it.

You can feel my emotions while I write this. I’ve been trying to recognize certain words I use too often and push them away.

Not today.

This all hit me last night before bed. My family and I were discussing some things about my childhood in Piedmont and then our neighbor was brought up as a comparison to a few things that reminded me of my time there and I looked up and literally said

“Holy shit”

I had no clue as to what a confederate flag was until I moved to Piedmont. Sorry Piedmont don’t take this the wrong way but you didn’t represent yourself too well in the early 80s.

I was isolated for the first couple of years when we moved. Only one friend for years.

I stayed isolated from just about everyone when we moved to this house for about three years.

These are just a few “coincidences” I came up with on the spot.

I’ve previously mentioned how I feel about coincidences.

My first few years in Piedmont were full of struggles. More than I care to share. I didn’t fit the Piedmont mold at the time as it went by I got more acclimated and made some lifelong friends but Piedmont, the town itself never resonated with me. As soon as I was old enough I left without saying goodbye. This is not a knock on the town of Piedmont or the people who have and do reside there. It’s my own reality.

Piedmont is a big part of me. Take that as you will.

Don and Peggy don’t necessarily represent my parents in any way. There’s not even a remote possibility other than how they are reflected in some of my memories of what I experienced. My mother changed quite a bit when we moved to Piedmont. She became a different person. Maybe that’s where she found herself I can’t tell you. I feel like she had Piedmont take a part of her. As did I. That town is like no other.

Take that as you will. Again I’m not throwing shade I spent a decade there I’ve earned my word.

Don represents everything I didn’t like about Piedmont. The bullying, ignorance, backroad politics. My reflections of my neighbors are moving backwards with my personal experience with Piedmont and my relationship with my stepfather. Tom and I started off rough but we figured it out. Don and I started off cordial. Now I wait in anticipation for the coroner to arrive at his house.

Tom and I may not have agreed on all politics but he had love for humanity and people’s rights. Tom had a big heart. I got some of that from him.

It may be hard to pick up on here from my words but I “turned down” the volume in my head about the noise my neighbors were causing me. I rarely acknowledge them. Big privacy fence serves as a symbol of that.

It may be my imagination but every time I see Don now he seems like he’s slowly fading away. Not in health (but yeah that too) but more of his physical energy and appearance. Almost life he’s zombifying right in front of me.

*shrugs

Piedmont is 20 feet away from me. I can’t describe to you the comparison of energy I get from it in words. I almost drove to Piedmont yesterday to see how accurate it was. I felt like I needed to close a chapter in my head that I left open.

I still may choose to do so. I think it would be beneficial. I don’t think there’s any attachments there anymore. Parents have moved and passed. My close friends have departed and moved as have the rest of my family. All the store fronts have changed. Except Hardee’s maybe.

My childhood home is an office surrounded by storage facilities.

I do miss the home.

If you get bored with your mind try looking at the people that surround you as a reflection of yourself and your “experiences”.

Why are they a part of your life? If you open your mind up a bit it’ll raise your eyebrows

And your awareness.

Anyway

Peace ☮️

I spent the last week solo as my family went to Florida for spring break. Most of my home alone time was spent reading and writing with my feet propped up. Morning walks and convos with my pets. I’m in a mental shakeup mode I’ve changed a few everyday routines to make my brain reset on some of my regular patterns. Nothing extreme I’ll brush my teeth with my right hand (I’m left-handed), shower immediately when I get out of bed, prepare my coffee the night before, zero phone activity until after I write. I want to see if my tone changes when I write without any outside observations or impressions.

My reading I’ve challenged myself to read more outside my box. I’m inside three books at the moment. Red Book by Jung, The Gulag Archipelago and I downloaded a book of poetry by Rumi. Finished a book that discusses the hermetic philosophies (The Kyballion) last week over a bowl of eggs.

I have a book on etymology arriving today. I’ve been fascinated with the origin of words lately.

Quite a change from Stephen King novels and recipe books.

I implement these books while try different audio levels and themes. I’ve been adding Solfeggio frequencies to my playlists and Spatial Audio. If you haven’t tried spatial with noise cancelling headphones I highly recommend. If you don’t own a pair of noise cancelling headphones I’d also

Highly recommend

If I were a billionaire every household would have a pair. I’m currently listening to some light drum beat that’s literally moving around in circles in my ears. Like I have a DJ slowly orbiting around my brain.

I’m not a therapist. I’m barely a college drop out but I will say music and sound therapy will do amazing things to your mental health. I don’t necessarily mean listening to your favorite bands while you vibe I’m referring to listening to healing frequencies.

Sound heals.

Period

I’m not anti medicine. I’m not anti doctor nor will I ever try to rise above the educated in their position. I will heed a professional’s advice for the most part.

But

I also believe the body has an amazing way of healing itself. Even your mental health.

Holistic? I’m don’t think I’m there but I’m all around it. I’m not that paranoid but it doesn’t take much to see we are treated to be and remain sick. I’m not on this platform to spout conspiracy theories this is my own personal perspective.

Anyway so most of my arthritis in my hands are gone.

Sciatica? Who’s that?

I went hiking up the pinnacle side of table rock with zero knee pain.

I had an operation on my left Achilles 15 years ago. Was told it couldn’t be repaired without surgery. I had a deformity building up behind my Achilles. The operation left terrible nerve damage on the back of my ankle. I walked/ran in constant pain for over a decade. If you thumped it I’d fall down in pain. I couldn’t even put my foot on an ottoman without wincing. My right Achilles began doing the same thing 5 years ago.

Both are healed. The right foot it helped by changing my shoes and socks. The left foot, my scar tissue no longer causes me pain. In fact it’s pretty much gone. My left foot always looked like they sowed up a small coin purse in it. That one is the one that really impresses me. I fixed my chronic pain. I dont take meds. I rarely take an aspirin. I’m speechless.

Joint pain as long as I drink water like a good boy stays away.

Audio also helps my focus. Focus helps my mental health.

My depression has been somewhere else. I made a mental door in my head to lock it out and I threw away the f-ing key. I use visualization as a tool for me. If something seems to difficult for me to understand I use visual aids to comprehend. Think of it as a mental pop up book. It works.

I’m not selling courses

I see many of you suffering from depression and mental health issues. Once again I’m not a therapist.

But

Don’t sell yourself short. Also no one is knocking on your door with the Publisher’s Clearing House winning letter. I’ve applied three years of self awareness, therapy and hours upon hours of meditation.

Why?

Because I’m worth the effort. Your intuition is the real you trying to talk to you. You aren’t a person/body with a soul. It’s the other way around.

*everyone stops reading

I know – here we go with some new age mystical bull shit.

Honestly what I’m studying is much, much older. I’m not here to start a cult either.

Also when you break everything down we are all chasing the same thing. They just keep changing the characters.

I’m walking around pain free other than the signs of some wear and tear from being alive for 53 years. I used to flex my ankles every morning when I woke up so I wouldnt fall on my face when I got out of bed. Next rehab will be my shoulder tear from 30 years ago. I needed to walk pain free first.

My mind is clear and much more perceptive than it used to be.

All I’ll say is this and then I’ll move on-

If you don’t believe you can do it then you don’t stand a chance.

You have to change the way you think about yourself and everything around you. It’s harder than training for a marathon but much MUCH more rewarding.

Ok bye on that one.

Work was painfully slow this week. Spring break broke us for a bit but I didn’t want to jump off a mountain this time. Life ebbs and flows like the tides. I went home yesterday with a smile on my face. When I arrived I received a group hug from my family as we were reunited after a week of separation.

Life’s good man

That hug is worth more than a thousand new campers.

Start a journal. Write down how you feel you don’t have to share it for the world to see like I do.

Words are spiritual. You can express the word spiritual without it being based on a certain book. You are the book.

Write down how you feel. Write down the things that make you feel.

Don’t leave your words in your head. The more you write them down the more you will release the ones that control you. If you don’t understand what that means come talk to me.

I said I’d stop but I lied.

Today is beautiful. I’m about to go for an amazing 4 mile walk through my neighborhood. The sun will shining on my face in about 20 minutes. I may camp next to a lake today on Dreher Island (if it’s open).

Gotta run. Or walk I mean.

Toodles 🫶🏼

I’ve been logging out of social media the last couple of weeks to shake my patterns up in my mind. Some days it’ll be one or two apps, others it’ll be no videos or reels and a couple of mornings I got up, checked my work messages and put my phone away for the day. I’ve deliberately deleted my Facebook app twice through the week. I’ve come back a couple of times to post for work and answer some inquiries. I haven’t engaged other than responding to a few humorous posts I was tagged in. If that was all Facebook represented (like it used to be) it wouldn’t be a problem for me. No one is happy on here. Sure a lot of us make it a satire but it doesn’t exactly radiate warmth. Even when we jockingly insert our POV into the social media world we are deliberately pointing our fingers at something or someone.

Bathroom walls have better etiquette.

Im not pointing my fingers at anyone I’m one of the biggest enablers. I’ve built a following on it. We are numb to its affects until it becomes our personality. What does that even mean? How many times do you find yourself walking around observing the general public as if they were in a Facebook forum or group page? You no longer see humanity in people all you’re doing is stereotyping because of what their type represents on social media. I’m avoiding painting a picture for you here. It’s subjective but I’m sure you can grasp what I’m saying and none of us are above it. I’m not referring to racism not even by a mile but it can be referred to on this subject as well. This is assumed stereotyping, there’s a hundred ways it could go.

This wasn’t meant to start off as a lecture. Whoops.

I read somewhere recently that the average number of times that we open our phone daily is over 300 plus.

Listen, we aren’t suppose to have all this knowledge or view points of the millions of people that surround our lives. It’s not important for me to acknowledge that Phyllis from Marietta hates cyclists or Steve in Indiana thinks Bud light is for men named Blair. Why should I get my energy shaken from Timothy in Astoria, Oregon who thinks dogs should have their own bathroom at Starbucks? Tabitha from Tulsa thinks Swift is the Antichrist because she wears triangle earrings.

Of course this is hyperbole but not by much. I’m just making an illustration. You find yourself going from “who the heck are these asshats?” to spending the next two hours with a stranger’s pointless rebuke inside your head. It may not have even been thrown your way just reading it in your mind got in your craw.

Let’s bring it in closer to your own community. You post something about a band that also refers to not so well liked billionaire and people start to insult you because they misread your post. Legit I didn’t even make the connection until I asked myself why people where laughing until someone finally made a reference. We are all salting our newfound psychosis’s on here.

Kicking our own bee hive

Anyway

The two days I put my phone away I made it a point to write down a few things that shook up my daily routine. I went a little more extreme than some. I purposely didn’t look at my phone screen to see the time when I woke up. I usually keep it on DND but my family was out of town so I keep it on for emergencies. I washed my teeth and brushed my body (my mom used to say this) and made my coffee for the morning.

And then I sat on my sofa with one hand holding my coffee and my other hand looking up at me asking me “now what?” I stared around my living room noticing how cluttered it had become. Not anything out of the ordinary. My surroundings can sometimes get jumbled. I’m that person that if I’m carrying around something I can hold in one hand there’s a good chance I’ll set it down somewhere it doesn’t belong. I may have a can opener in a potted plant somewhere or a loose house key in the dishwasher. I’m aloof at home. I rarely wear my glasses at home because I have my eyes in my phone.

I didn’t jump up and start cleaning either it was 5:04 am. I’m not a maniac. I had prearranged some tasks to take care of the day before. I knew I’d have some time gaps to deal with. I’m probably on my phone for at least an hour first thing in the morning. I’m an early riser usually my day begins at 5 even though my work usually doesn’t begin until 8:45. I often write at this time as I’m currently doing and then some yoga and or walk. My workouts are only three days a week once I stopped drinking fat loss fights became a thing of the past. I read most of a book I had started 2 months ago and pushed my yoga for additional 15 minutes. Added another mile to my walk and had an extra 15 to unwind and eat my breakfast in silence. No scrolling, no senseless videos. I felt extremely isolated with my family out of town. I was hyper aware of the normal noises in my home. Driving to work I our my phone in my pocket the whole way. When I arrived at work I put my phone in my office and went about my day. The only time I used my phone was to check for work messages on IG. No scrolling, I’d open the messenger screen and go about my day. When I got home from work my phone was still at 65% battery. I use my phone to play music at work and respond to friends and family texts. Once I settled in I made dinner and finished that book that I’ve been resting my coffee on for the last two months and then I started another one. I’m not a tv person. I’ll watch some shows with Jess I’m not an extremist they just don’t hold my attention anymore. They’re all regurgitated stories with younger actors rereading the same old scripts. I suppose this is what happens as you get older. All the stories I want to hear have been told I can no longer relate to the new ones. I turned in and set my phone to my happy tones and went to bed with a 40% battery life. I normally have my phone next to a charger for half the day as if it were on life support. My addiction may be a little more extreme than yours. I’m on about 8-9 hours screen time daily average. Ask some people what their average phone screen time is and it’s like asking them their favorite sexual pose. They look at you strange and then some of their faces turn red. We all know we are on here far too much.

*insert Wall-E movie here

I did it for two days. Probably 40 hours or so actually. When I got home from work yesterday I downloaded my fb app I’m particularly attached to marketplace I find some good deals and I’m looking for a few specific items I want for my trip next month.

Is there a marketplace only app?

Of course I was curious as to the goings on of Facebook so I switched over to my feed and immediately put my phone down after about 60 seconds.

It just keeps getting worse.

Regardless of your political beliefs the world was a better place before social media.

Period

I deleted it again.

I know I’m not acting extreme. I takes 30 seconds to download the app again. Unfortunately I have to use it for work. I have an obligation to respond to some messages I have a handful of people who are fighting the good fight of sobriety that check in on messenger and I keep them close to my heart.

It has it’s uses, its advantages we just don’t operate it that way.

I’m not selling tickets here nor jumping on a pedestal. I have a social media problem, a phone problem. It’s part of my reckoning to put these away. If I post these blogs it’ll become a post and ghost for me. I enjoy writing. I may write some stories one day for entries so I encourage myself to write at least a thousand words daily. It’s apart of my meditative routine. I may even write more if I can keep my nose out of my phone. Obviously to post these I’ll have to download the app again and then I’ll delete it or at least from my screen which is useless I’ll still find it in .2 seconds, it’s just one more frictional rub of my thumb.

I’ll keep expanding my time off until it becomes a habit and then hopefully I’m done.

*key hallelujah chorus

Again I’m not elevating myself above the masses. Social media affects my mental health, it has for awhile. If it doesn’t do that to you then good for you! I think you haven’t realized it yet but good for you anyway. TikTok is a little different for me. I’m starting to see why they tried to delete it but I’ll keep it to myself some of you would probably think I’ve lost my mind. I’m sure I have but that’s been my intention for the last four years.

I did enjoy the numerous tags on a Cheesecake Factory post last night. Keep fighting the patriarchy!

Peace.

I usually insert a title before I begin writing to get me into my frequency for writing. This time I’ll have to label it after I write it out. This one may not make the presses. I won’t know until I process it here. I struck a vein in my nightly meditating. A golden one I think.

Explaining this will be difficult without going into detail about my whole time here on earth.

But I’m going to give it a try. There won’t be any focus on story telling or engagement at least not purposely it’ll be an analysis I’m still downloading but I need to process some of this to hold onto it.

This will be extremely emotional for me.

I’ve been very transparent about my relationship with my father. I’ve sung his praises on here and expressed my feelings about how he has been my hero since day one of my remembrance. You all got to see my joy when he was featured in Masters of Air. I was on cloud nine for months. It was exactly what I needed to experience. I always thought my dad should’ve been exalted for the amazing person he was. Me sharing stories about him wasn’t enough for me. I wanted the world to see him the way I saw him. And the whole world got a good glimpse. It felt like a big release for me. I was finally able to put my dad’s heroism to rest.

My dad was 50 when I was born. In fact he was exactly 50 years and one day older than me. I was practically his 50th birthday gift. If you’ve read any of my blogs you will know the significance of that number. As I approached my 50 years of life that’s when my reckoning was born.

When I turned 50.

My dad, from my own point of view and memory didn’t exist until he turned 50. I have no idea how to visualize my father in real life other than the years I shared the air with him from his ages of 50- 64. Around the time he began his slow decline in life.

I’ve expressed my pain from how I felt my father got dealt a bad hand in life. From war hero, multiple medal achievements. He sacrificed his young adulthood to fight nazis and other wars unselfishly. He killed for his country. He spent over a year in pow camps. He was assumed to be dead for god sakes.

He was a widower left to raise 2 daughters on his own. And he did without a peep. He met my mother and took in her other three children and once again did it without a single word of discouragement.

He owned a very successful bar in the 70s that took a turn for the worse from bikers ruining his bar’s reputation that my father had built up. You could say they became a cancer to my father’s business.

Or even a virus..

When the bar closed my dad worked some amazingly shitty jobs to make ends meet. He worked for major steakhouse buffet chain, Weiner King where he had to wear a ridiculous paper hat and name tag. Bankruptcies, divorced when I was 8 (I got front row seats to that argument). When my parents split my father moved into a garage that was turned into an in-law suite from my oldest sister’s talented husband. After that my father worked part time at a local bar in Mauldin cooking for happy hour. His weekends revolved around me coming to see him. I know this because I could feel my dad’s love for me worlds away. I’ve inherited my father’s love of his child. My daughter melts my heart every second of my life.

I look like my dad about as close as you can for someone that was split down the middle from two people.

I may go all over the place to try to piece this together and I may fail but this has to come out while it’s still hot.

Chicken or egg here.

I am a reflection of my father’s failures.

My father is a reflection of my failures.

My actions good and bad have been a reflection of my relationship with my father.

My own perspectives I have created and have subconsciously manipulated over time.

I’ve been down a deep corridor of self reflection. Literally

I’m training my mind to see how the people in my life are also a reflection of my subconscious. Or at least how I read them. My perception of them.

I’m mirroring some habits, happenstance’s, trauma, god I can’t even come up with the words at the moment.

I’ve never viewed my father as a loser or a failure. Absolutely never and even though I’m pushing violence away from my mind if anyone referred to my dad as a loser or a failure you’ll find out real fast what my feelings will be.

My father was an amazing man filled with love for his family. A war hero.

But at the end of his days, in my mind, I felt like he lost. He failed.

Man that freaking hurt to say outloud. and I apologized to him last night when I said it to myself.

I’ve absorbed my father’s failures into mine.

It’s what I’ve done. What I’ve been doing. I’ve recognized it now. It’s been right in front of me the whole time. The whole

Fucking

Time

Self sabotage

I’ve been doing it my whole life in different stages since early adulthood.

My father was here for 64 years. I got him for 14. Let’s chip off a few years because my first few years here like everyone else, I was absorbing life. I can recall some amazing memories at an early age. My dad was the big strong dad in my kid days. He carried me around like I was nothing. He was beating the crap out of unruly bar fighters and kicking out a biker gangs. Shot a man in the gut off the back dock of his bar. We was the definition of true grit.

In my early adolescence as I got older, he began to appear frail to me. My dad smoked (as did I), he drank (hello). His limp from the war (millions of people got to see that happen on tv) got progressively worse. He aged terribly. Who can blame him for all the hell that man experienced before he even turned 25. He didn’t take good care of himself as he got older.

And life chewed him up and spit him out.

And he never said a discouraging word. He picked me up every weekend with the biggest smile on his face. As his son I was his world. Just like my daughter is to mine.

I absorbed every single fiber of this. I absorbed his pain, suffering and love.

I’ve spent a large chunk of my life trying to replicate all of it.

All

Of

It

Without even knowing it.

Well until now.

I’ve made random comments to others and thoughts to myself about how at 53 my dad had Greenville by it’s social toes with his bar. He was the talk of the town. The mayor of the bar business. Exactly what I was trying to recalibrate for myself. There weren’t bars and restaurants on every street corner in the 70s. It was much more intimate and organic back then. In my memories his bar the Cock and Bull, came and went briefly in my timeline. I can remember it being open, I can recall being inside and running around playing inside like it was my own home.

And then it closed.

We sold our house

We moved and downsized into an small apartment

My parents would divorce a year or two later. Sorry my memories get a little mixed on that timeline.

But

I split with my business

We sold our house

We downsized to a small rental

And we came close to the next part a year later.

And that’s when my reckoning began.

When I turned 50

The same age as my father when I was born. Missed the exact moment by one day.

I’ve been down a long road of self reflection. Of why I do certain things. Why I find it easier to sabotage than to celebrate. Why when something good comes within my grasp I do my best to push it away.

Subconsciously

I’m mirroring my father’s past.

Without even realizing it.

When I look inside of myself after realizing this several things began to click.

In my mind I was constantly telling myself and I’m paraphrasing because my mind can be jumbled at times -“what’s the point? My dad was amazing, he had a successful business and he still failed”

“No matter what I accomplish I’ll most likely lose it all like my dad”

My father lived with my oldest sister until he passed.

His father who I never met, also lived with his eldest daughter until he passed.

I have a one child. A daughter.

It’s been said and written millions of times to always pay attention to history because it repeats itself. Too many of us think of that in global and regional terms involving conflicts, laws and wars. How often do we look inside of ourselves of how it affects us on a personal level?

I love my dad man. It’s apparent. And I’m mimicking him in every way consciously and subconsciously. I was only following his footsteps out of love. I just wasn’t watching where.

My failure paradox

Failure brought me down

Failure broke my spirit

Failure released my confidence. Holy shit did it ever.

I got tired of “pulling myself up by the bootstraps” because in my head I keep thinking it’s going to be on perpetual repeat. “All good things come to an end”

When I opened Graze in my head I was already saying to myself “what are we going to do in three years when the lease is up?”

This is why I’m constantly changing things. Always moving things around. I already think I have failed, things aren’t working so I keep it fluid.

Inconsistent

Constant change equals imbalance

Ouch

Ouch

Ouch

On the other side of that spectrum this is why I do things in rituals and habits. The things that work for me. Because going out of my comfort zone brings the possibility of

Failure.

Holy shit one more time.

We base our reality on our past, present and future.

Our perceptions.

And our reflections.

Memories can be a tribulation that attaches to your subconscious for your entire life.

Or they can be badges of recognition. A reminder for reflection and reconciliation.

I’ve been riding on the tribulations most of my adult life.

With no hands on the wheel

I have/had a war raging inside my subconsciousness.

My reckoning trying to get me to break the chain of repetitions of my past all the while my trained subconscious was trying to keep me in safe mode. Safe mode can be a oxymoron. It keeps you contained. Man have I freaking contained myself the last 5 years. This is why I camp in the same spots, hike the same trails. Do the same things over and over every week.

To protect myself.

From what?

Growth.

Real

Growth.

Real uncomfortable growing pain growth.

My anxieties have been on high octane because I’ve been working on myself but at the same time I’ve wrapped myself in bubble wrap because I’m afraid of falling off.

Off of what? The things I’ve done to fix parts of my broken self. It’s like getting all the dents fixed on your vehicle and then parking it in the garage so it can never have the possibility of getting wrecked again.

50

I always asked myself why 50?

I thought it was just a solid number. Half century.

Missed it by a mile

It’s hard to relay what my head is trying to explain.

A light started to form in my subconscious as I approached 50. I knew a reckoning was coming months before it came.

Just like knowing a new child is on the way.

When I hit 50 my mind told me a change was coming, happening. When my dad turned 50 here I came.

When I turned 50 I went through a rebirth of life.

Here I come again.

And every year since then I’ve been growing into a different person. Slowly shedding the skin of who I used to be.

It’s taken me up until March 14th 2025 to recognize this.

This wasn’t a trail marker. My head walked right into the tree.

Recognition

I can’t accurately describe what this feels like. It’s still resonating. It may never stop.

We have memories that stick with us. Define us. We replicate what we experience in life. It’s literally how we learn things. Most of us don’t even realize it. It’s what makes us who we are.

Environment

When you can change this environment you aren’t only healing yourself at that moment, you’re releasing decades of trauma, negative energy, bad habits.

Don’t look at it as I fixed something yesterday.

Instead you tell yourself I just released 40 years of pain.

You no longer carry it. Once you recognize that it’s not a part of you then you can tell yourself it no longer exists. When you can train your mind to think this way you won’t perceive yourself as that bad person that you’ve always portrayed yourself in your head. You were only repeating what you’ve been shown.

I’m not a therapist or even close. I can only explain this to you through my own perspective which is the only one that matters. That’s probably not what you think it means. It’s a healthy one.

My father was a high school drop out. My grades dropped dramatically when he passed and never went back up. I graduated with the lowest gpa it takes to graduate.

I had one job that required a name tag. I was written up several times for my refusal to wear one (see above about my anger at my father wearing a paper hat and name tag). I never made the connection I just perceived them as indignant. My dad went from being his own boss to working for crappy places where he was no longer in control.

My mind screamed when I worked for corporations. My disassociation with my old steakhouse began when they became more corporate. My defiance to authority. All because of my dad’s paper hat and his look of defeat when he wore it.

This is why it’s impossible for me to work with anyone. It’s why I fought you head on if you didn’t go with my work flow. To SOME of my partners, I get it now.

50

Past

Present

Future

It’s all right here. It’s not tomorrow it’s not yesterday

It’s now

Just like my father, I had another child. It was me

Again

And I’ve been trying to protect him as one. I’ve got to let this one grow without the attachments of my old self

Without the attachments of my father and his father.

I feel like I just broke something

A mold

That’s all I’ve got right now. That’s a big ol lie but this is all I can say about it at this point.

My trail markers just changed to a new frequency.

Time to label this subject.

Time to walk this new path.

Ill be spending the next several weeks processing this. I could continue writing about this for the next several hours.

But

Ive got my hands full downloading all of this. This is may take a while.

Peace ☮️

I opened myself up to 10 strangers a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t bring a notebook filled with bullet points or a speech letter. I had no idea how I was to engage the group or even the subject I would touch base on to engage. I wasn’t sure what to expect honestly so I walked into the building raw as raw could be. What you kids call raw dogging these days.

I talked briefly about my professional background, my reckoning with sobriety and dipped just a tad into some philosophy. It was therapeutic for me and I managed to shake off some social jitters that I had created for myself for the last 5 years. Stifled a small cry but worked my way through it.

It was good for me. It was needed.

One small topic I had touched base on during my chat with the group was even when you conquer some of your worst demons you can still come out the other side a complete asshole. Everyone had a good laugh I was engaging but wanted to make a point from my perspective of where I’ve been and where I wanted to head next.

Sobriety is perhaps the best thing I could’ve done to turn my mind and life around to the lighter side of things. The chemical imbalance of years of toxicity changed the person I once was or at least tried to be. It changed my behavioral patterns, my scruples, morals, point of views. Add the typical childhood traumas we all experience, life’s hiccups, years of feeling like life only takes craps on you and no one else. It makes for a long lasting cocktail that takes much more than just time and sobriety to shake off the effects.

Things you have to reckon with each separately.

If you have a old car that you just replaced the old engine with a brand new one it doesnt mean the car will now run without any chance of breaking down. Transmission has the same wear and tear. Tires are worn, seats are ripped, paint is faded, alignment is twisted and your shocks have been shook. All of your electronics are outdated and they don’t make those parts anymore.

That has been me for about three years. I’m not diminishing the value of sobriety. I won’t say I’m conquering sobriety but I’ve made my life possible without alcohol. I still had/have some other personal property to reckon with.

Pettiness

Complaining

Empathy -lack of

Stereotyping

Impatience

Negativity

Then the big ones

Hatred

Bitterness

Anger

All of these poxes contain underlying annexes, attachments, subject matter etc but this was my new reckoning for 2025.

I was sober but my subconscious was still a raging maniac. It would bother me when people approached me to tell me how proud of me they were about my lifestyle changes and my transparency. In my head my mind would say “I’m only about 10% transparent.” I can’t say some of the things that still sit in my mind.”

Anger produces some dark thoughts

Bitterness will cause you to think some not so good things about others. Which brings on hatred.

I’m sober, I’m a much better person for it. Easier to be around for most part unless I’m in one of my manic episodes. I’m much more focused and analytical about my being. A lot of bad habits went into the trash with the bottle but most of my personality trash traits I picked up along the way stuck to me like burrs on my hiking socks. Jagged and perturbing.

In my eyes I was just a sober jerk. A few other eyes too.

This wasn’t a surprise to me. I know me better than anyone but I needed to put sobriety into it’s proper place. I replaced my car engine. I already knew other parts needed to be replaced but I had to get that car back on the road first.

My new reckoning has been slowly turning a different corner. I’m faced with rewiring my car right now.

I’m making peace with things I’ve held onto for far too long.

The first and easiest to be honest was to backspace my words on social media. I stopped engaging. Or I’ve been in that practice. I’ve found myself making snarky remarks in form of humor but it’s just a disguise. Social media is a megaphone of negativity. I’m standing by that. What it could’ve been used for once upon a time has been lost.

I’m making peace with people who have controlled my energy over the years long term and short. There’s too many to count. Some I haven’t spoken too in years and others I have to reckon with everyday. Do you have those people on social media that you don’t really like but you still keep them around? Do you get infuriated reading a total stranger’s opinion? Do you get upset when someone you haven’t seen in person in 20 years disagrees with your online opinion? I’ve cut out about 75% of my social media engagement. My feet feel lighter already.

I made peace with my old partners after my one of them passed. It wasn’t the passing that made me do it but it did trigger my one sided pov. I felt compelled to when I experienced a fraction of the pain his family must’ve been going through during the whole process. The thought of my pettiness bouncing around in their minds while one of their family members was slowly dying made me sick to my stomach. I lost touch with empathy because of my pettiness.

It was sobering. They deserved better. There’s business and then there’s just being a good human being. Bitterness takes away from my energy.

It was therapeutic to put those bad thoughts to rest. The impact also caused my to pause and reflect on “what are we doing here Gangwer?”

“Why are you so dead set on getting enraged from your self proclaimed victimization?”

And why do I feel the need to air it out for all to see?

It’s not therapeutic it’s grandstanding.

Social media has turned that into a trophy

☮️

^^

This has been my focus this year. I’ve been talking about a new reckoning all last year but I needed to find it. Hold that thought. No ma’am it found me this time.

Trail markers are amazing tools once you know how to harness them. I’m on quite the spiritual journey at the moment. It took something way out of left field for this reckoning to arrive but it’s one I couldn’t ignore.

I’m just following the steps shown to me

Sobriety to clear the mind. Erasing my hard drive to allow new uploads.

Alcohol truly destroyed my intuition processing. As did the system I indulged in for decades that comes with it.

The service industry.

It destroyed me because I allowed it to.

Writing has been my most utilized trail marker.

Anytime I put it one “paper” I’m able to release some trauma and or inner conflict. Writing has helped me make peace with my father’s passing decades ago, my mother, and my brother’s too. My mental rucking gets lighter each time and man was I carrying around a lot of weight.

Sometimes I’ll write something negative on a pad of paper, ball it up and throw it in the trash.

It’s symbolic and it works for me.

I’ve created a mental web in my mind.

For the last month when I negative thought pops in I have this web to catch it in my subconscious and I reckon with it.

“Why is this thought sitting here? What prompted it? What do you intend to do with it? Is it worthy of processing or do we need to wrap it up and get rid of it?”

It’s taken me three years to weave this fragile web. It only works if I’m hyper focused on it during my nighttime routine of self hypnosis. Things slip through all the time but at least now I’m aware. I’m catching negative thoughts before they can get through and each time my web gets stronger.

I’m exhausted from carrying around so much hate and bitterness. It’s breaking my back and heart.

But

I’m improving and that’s all I can hope for.

It’s astounding how it changes your energy almost overnight when you make peace with subject matter that shouldn’t matter.

I carried my despises for the mandates for Covid like a scar on my forehead. The shutdowns, masks, restaurants were the scapegoats and it made me feel helpless. It locked me up and shut me down. It caused the rift between my partners and I. It made me double my drinking pars.

Two or three weekends ago I purposely walked into the new restaurant inside of the old SC and ate on a Sunday. I hadn’t stepped foot in those doors since April 2021. I had to get it done. I needed to make peace with my emotions over my first and favorite restaurant.

And I did.

Last week as I prepared to loosen some bitter strings my thoughts were

“This shakeup literally saved your life and everything attached to it.”

“You would still be the old person that you had become to despise.”

“You didn’t lose anything. You gained everything.”

As I said those words to myself while driving to work I did something that I’ve done quite a few times the past couple of years.

I cried

And then I shut the door on it.

I’ve got a few more big ones I have to reckon with and I’m struggling only because I have to retrain how I think.

Negativity has been infested in my soul for decades. This one I have to take some time on. Every time I think I’m moving in the right direction I find myself mumbling some old words that want to stay around.

It’s going to take a bit.

But

I’m more than hopeful. I’m confident. Something else I had to reckon with too.

Each time I’m able to close the book on one of these the better I feel inside. Spirituality is my focus. It’s my new mountain to climb.

It’s not what you think it is but it’s all relatable. I’m just now finding some meaning after 53 years of perpetual motion.

Just a better awareness of myself. For myself.

“Oh you have to let go

So the soul may fall” – Sturg

4:40am

This is part of my morning routine, I have a grazing table to deliver this afternoon, some big boxes and my buddy is coming to take some long overdue pics of my deli and food. I’m excited and anxious at the same time. These type of days usually get in my head and I’d sweat it out for a few days before it happens but I’ve been pretty smooth this week.

Deliberately smooth

I’ve been on a spiritual reckoning for about 6 weeks or so. Different than what may be popping in your head when you read this.

I’m not passing around pamphlets

I’m not standing on a street corner giving sermons

I’m not joining a cult or starting one

I’m also not knocking anyone that involves themselves in any of the activities above.

To each their own

When I say I’m all over the place I truly am because I want to be. I’ve been knee deep in my mental analytics for around a year or so. By this time last year I already knew my deli was coming all I was waiting for was agreement on the lease. My days were about to get very difficult in a few months.

I’m going to scan over several things, I’m going to skip a lot of things. For now I’m just catching up. I’ll go in out on this for some time. You can’t ask “how was your trip?” when it’s just begun.

And I feel like mine has only started.

You always hear about how some people only find themselves when they’ve been stripped of everything. A complete purification of your body and soul.

Man

The last 5 years have been a ride.

Covid

Disassociated with my company I built

Alcoholism

Sold our house just to get out from under it and downsized out of necessity

I almost split my family

My mother passed

Moving from place to place to find a kitchen to work out of (more stressful than you think).

Then I opened my deli

Built it myself while I drove across town to make boxes in between. I’d stand in my deli some days with tears in my eyes overwhelmed. I’d never built anything by myself before. Not like this.

Caught Covid right when we opened for over three weeks

Back injury that put me down for a week

Main purveyor gets quite the PR explosion

Heated exchanges with one of my neighbors

Helene shuts me down for 10 days right after I opened and also geographically erased all of my decompression spots. Literally.

For about three months I’d walk into that deli and cringe. I felt like I had built my own cage of imprisonment. If you read some of my old blogs you’ll see it with your own two eyes.

Prior to all of that when I worked in the brewery and meadery I worked alone. Those of you that run your own business might get this. The brewery kitchen I worked out of for two years was the size of a medium bathroom, no ventilation other than a screen door around the corner, no windows. I had two one door coolers, 3 comp sink, prep table, 3 foot sandwich cooler and a 4 foot prep table. These facilities were handed to me with open arms. I’m not in anyway disrespecting my friends that owned the brewery. It’s quite the opposite. I’m very grateful. They have a big hand in how I manifested my deli. I had no intention of being chadcuterie after my initial holiday season.

I would push over $40k of meat and cheese out of that kitchen in 6 weeks during the holidays.

You work alone it gives you a lot of opportunities to chat with yourself. Some convos good. Some not so much, I used to get in my head until I hated myself. Especially when I was still drinking. Working solo got hard on me when I had busy days and I’d feel my sanity slowly slipping away if I got behind on work or if I ran out of an ingredient and had to leave my kitchen to grab it. My closest grocer was Swamp Rabbit. Have you ever shopped there in a hurry?

Exactly

Especially on a sunny Saturday which was always the day I ran out of things.

Somedays I felt like I was drowning and no one could hear my splashes. There was no “hey grab that pan out of dish for me” or “can you give me a hand with this please?” I’d look at the clock the wall “I have 20 minutes left to finish this and an hour of work to produce it. Summers when it got too hot I’d move most of my kitchen to my 1000 square ft home and work from there. I’d haul ass to the brewery to meet customers in the parking lot for each appointment. Sometimes I’d drive up to the brewery 8 times a day.

Meadery was much more room for me. They didn’t have a walk in so I cut my big boards down to fit in the reach in coolers. I’d rotate boards in and out of the cooler to keep them cool because they didn’t all fit. I was still in solitude there the walls were just further away. I already knew it was a temp spot when I moved in so I never got comfortable there. Just like the brewery Adam was extremely easy to work with and I’m grateful for his extended hospitality. I spent a lot of time reckoning in my head when I was there too. My mind needs distractions from itself sometimes. It wasn’t getting any.

It’s been a rough five years. I only gave you the bullet points but it’s the reckoning with yourself in the in betweens that really kick your ass. I came real close to losing it. Even after I went sober I still had a lot to fix and reckon with.

2024 was the hardest. I hid behind a face of fake confidence and made up tranquility.

In my head I was becoming that old lunatic again. Just a sober one this time. My anger issues were off the charts. My anxieties were telling me the deli would crash and burn. I was becoming that Chad that’s difficult to be around again.

Sobriety gives you a clear mind to address things . It doesn’t create the action. That’s still on you. I’m not going to beat a dead horse. I’ll end up sounding whiny to myself.

I’ll just say 2024 was hard as hell and it wasn’t suppose to be. I thought my days of struggles were behind me because of my life choices I made. My reality decided I needed more suffering.

And it put me through the ringer.

Lort bless my wife for her strength because I needed all of it and she gave it to me. She was my lean-to in a year long blizzard.

January I put myself to rest for a bit. Business was slow that month as expected and I took it slow too. I went out to find some new resets and went to heal. I was tired. I use that word in past tense now. The words you write about yourself can control your energy

Another subject for another day.

I’ve talked briefly about my little awakening in my rooftop tent on the island outside of Beaufort. I wrote it all out and then deleted it. Not ready to write about that at this time and I may never. What I experienced is difficult to describe without sounding loony or like I was drugged. I’m still processing this a month later. It felt like a self induced exorcism. Although I definitely wasn’t alone in that tent.

I’ll say this for now. I’m not the same person I was when I left for the island. I didn’t come back a competely different person but I left some parts of me behind and picked up some mental accessories along the way. Now that I’m back I feel like I’m transitioning into someone else.

My world and its perceived reality is changing. All that means is my perceptions are changing. Take that anyway you want. Trail markers that I used to see every once in a while are now blazing everywhere. I’ll just say I’m in my own little world for now.

You always hear about these stories of people who just get put through the ringer and come out ok. Not all but some seem to come out like an old cocoon and they change. I’m not going to allow my ego to come out here and say “me too!” I’m still dealing with this literal mind flip.

Divine intervention or maybe I unlocked a spec of brain matter from all of these meditation sessions.

If you really want to know if someone has changed or is transitioning ask the people that love them. They have front row seats to the show. They see it. I’m still grappling with what’s ahead.

That 2 minutes up in my tent man

Wow

You’ve never hit euphoria until you have and then the crash is exhausting. Terrifying and beautiful at the same time. I felt like I died.

I’m ankle deep right now. When I get up to my knees I’ll go further unless I get completely submerged and then who knows what I’ll have to say.

Or it just stays with me. I haven’t seen where my trail markers take me yet. Only “time” will tell.

Cheers and namaste I guess..

I got up at 5:15 this morning to begin my daily rituals. I make my coffee, let the old lady (dog) out to do her thing, pet my cat, rinse my face with cold water and sit on my sofa. I reckon with a few messages I may have received after 6 I rarely answer messages once I’m in family mode some work responses may mean I’m going back and forth all night so I wait until the morning to respond.

My responses are more calculated.

Email convos are handled post first cup of coffee

I open my medias and look at the notifications, messages or tags. If it’s a good week of sports I’ll open up ESPN for about 2 minutes and absorb all I need for sports for the day. I’ve released a lot of that lifestyle because of people act on social media. I used to be one of those people and still find myself engaging when I feel personally victimized.

9 times out of 10 I wake up in a positive mood. There will be some mornings when I have quite the load to deal with for work that might make me a little anxious but in the back of my mind I know I can handle it. It’s just messing with my routine. I’m making strides on that one currently.

I’m attached at the hip with some of my medias Facebook especially it’s paramount for my branding unfortunately and great advertisement for local businesses although my personal one sparks much more engagement online. I manifested this over the years. After Dive crashed and burned I felt the need to put myself out there publicly more to engage and get new faces into concept #3 -LTO.

I began to grow my media into a larger audience and created a “voice” online.

A somewhat engaging but volatile one. I am a very transparent person I speak my mind sometimes faster than my mind can keep up. It keeps my friend’s list high online but my real social life a tad smaller. I was much more of a fraught person when I was a drunk. I carried that over to my social media.

I am what I am but under a much more bloated megaphone online.

I’ve begun to dislike this person. Maybe dislike is the wrong word. I no longer find this persona necessary for me. When I was trying to take over the hospitality world it seemed fitting. I only wanted to be in your face to remind you my restaurants needed support. Sometimes I went over the top. I have that tendency when I get carried away

I have a tendency of getting carried away quite a bit. It makes for a nice carousel.

I used to enjoy it. All the buzzing of the bees online. I’d wake up to over 100 notifications sometimes from running my mouth online. I engaged in all the engagements it used to get my old partners upset. All I was trying to do was make our company relevent. Or maybe just me..

My old partner and I used to have arguments over it. It created a fence between us at times. For some reason while I was out and about Monday I had the vibe to look at some of our last texts together before he passed. All are at least 4 years old. The last of our text although a little strained there was no malice he was only trying to help. That’s all he was trying to do the whole time.

“Stop focusing on all the people.” “Hope you’re enjoying the beautiful mountains in Colorado.”

I haven’t read these texts in over 4 years. I’m sitting in a parking lot on woodruff next to REI with them open on my phone. I thought to myself “why did you just do this?” Maybe because I drove past his old office and Habitap on my way.

Trail markers

I got up this morning and after about 3 minutes on Facebook my brain did that little highlighter I’ve trained it to do and I opened his texts again.

“Stop focusing on all the people”

I was in a good mood this morning until about 30 seconds into scrolling on FB.

I’m not going to write about what I saw it’s unnecessary and redundant. I’m seeing the same thing we are all seeing. Unless you’re blind or your IQ doesn’t quite reach the spectrum to operate heavy machinery. I got immediately tense, defensive and angry.

This is not how I used to enjoy my coffee. It’s ironic because I was introduced to Facebook when I opened my coffee shop back in 2008. Life sure seemed a lot happier worldwide back then. If it wasn’t I was blissfully ignorant. At that time it was a tool for socializing and networking.

Now it’s a tool for negativity and gloom. Filled with political psychosis, one sided agendas and thousands of pages specifically created to feed the horrid hoopla. You don’t have to be a conspiracy theorist to recognize it. It’s in your face. Over the years I’ve been an advocate for it without even realizing it. A literal tool.

I get on here and start fires, stir the pot and insult people that I perceive as idiots. In my eyes I’m rarely wrong about things on here. I speak for about 150,000,000 others when I say that too.

We are 8 plus billion bees in one hive. Social media is a big stick poking us. It incites us into an angry buzz. We can’t fight the stick so we take it out on each other. We used to share posts with lost cats and dogs to get some harmonic energy as a community to find them. Now we post outrage from places we’ve never been about people we’ve never met. The only thing we know about them is what we’ve been told and shown by 5 different entities that all have their own biases and beliefs. Some of you have family in these areas. I absolutely feel for you.

We no longer have natural anything. If a fire starts it’s an attack, hurricanes are steered and earthquakes are caused by energy machines. Planes are being attacked by ufos under the sea.

20 years ago these things happened we cleaned up and went about our life because it’s always been a part of our lives.

Personally I don’t think we are meant to absorb things globally. We were sectored out for a reason. Small communities build firm relationships. I’m “friends” with people I’ve never met hundreds and thousands of miles away. Some I’d love to meet in person others I’m good with you staying way over there. Without social media neither one of you would ever cease to exist in my mind and I’d still be Chad. Now I have to contend with saying something you might find offensive or doesn’t sit right with your perspective. I’m getting energy from people I don’t know, I’m engaging with a complete stranger who’s going to “kick my ass” for making an off handed comment over a sports article. 20 years ago this conversation would’ve never happened. Maybe at a bar somewhere but at least it would’ve been resolved immediately.

I lost myself on this app. These apps. A lot of us have. I can’t speak for you but if I was representing you as a lawyer I’ve got some good evidence to support it.

I always see references about how things have gravitated to junk the last four or five years but I think it’s just further down the road. We used to get the news once in the AM and then one more time in the PM when we got off work. If a big thing happened our stories got put on hold while the news man popped up on tv with big news. It seemed to only happen about four times a year. Now it’s daily.

Bad shit has always happened around us. It just reaches us faster now. I used to read it in USA Today. I had time to prepare myself.

I have some friends online literally losing their minds over agendas they can’t control, news they can’t change. I’m currently watching a divorce in the making over politics and people are engaging and laughing.

Perspectives are punched online, opinions are mocked. It really bothers me when I see real friends that I care about shifting into another persona because this great app of negativity has finally sunk its claws into them. Not just them, me, you, us.

Everyday I ask myself can my company survive without it? Because I’m about to jump off of it. It’s not social it’s a giant restroom stall covered in sharpie insults.

Also stop with the “you don’t have to announce when you’re getting on the plane”. It’s so much fun when we take a viral negative statement and reuse it to mock each other. I’m no better than anyone else with this. I get it. But I’m trying to fix that for myself.

This bee hive is about to explode. I’m choosing a much, much smaller one. At least that’s my good intentions. I’ve tried before. Alcohol was easier to quit.

I can’t tell you the last time I got on Facebook and enjoyed myself. On occasion I see a friend’s post that makes me smile. Some of you are the subject of absolute positivity. I enjoy you. Others have gotten caught up fighting the stick that stokes the hive. I’ve let a few of you go.

My opinion no longer needs to be shared constantly. Yes I see the irony in this post before you even say it. I’m trying to maintain neutrality. My outrage doesn’t always have to be seen in the great big media marquee. These are things I’m currently telling myself as I slowly strangle ego into non existence.

Do I want to be blissfully unaware or blissfully ignorant would be the social media argument.

I just want bliss. I don’t need a hundred opinions or arguments about it. 90% of you have no idea what I’m like in person but have no qualms in letting me know how I should live my life. I’m the same way towards you. I do not absolve myself from this behavior I’m on of the worst on here. I’m quite the example.

I wish I never were.

I’m jealous of those of you who pop on here annually to thank people for the birthday wishes. You’ve figured it out.

I’m getting on that boat. Alcohol took me sometime to manifest but it did. It taught me how to manifest. This is my next reckoning.

“I’m getting on the plane” yall. One step at a time.

It’s the reason I run away to the mountains. The only net I have is the WiFi in my truck and it has to be running to work. I check in with my fam and check out. Waking up to a sunrise and coffee makes me smile much more than waking up to someone unfriending another over an egg.

Unfriending wasn’t even a word not so long ago.

I’m not writing this to exclaim I’m more awake than you. I’m pursuing what makes me and mine happy and at ease. I can’t speak for anyone else. I assisted with creating this monstrosity and I don’t like it.

I used to.

My daughter has it and she’s not fond of it and that gives me a little hope.

If you really want to black out something that would really shake the world up this would be it. You’re taking the stick away from them.

I’m not getting on that plane yet but I’ve bought my tickets. Work will still have to go online and I like posting these for the 6 people that read them. I enjoy the feedback it keeps me going. Social media still has some positives At least.

Cheers.

I make myself write most mornings as part of my routine. Routines are important to me for the sake of keeping myself in control of my operations. It allows me to pace my day as I see fit. There are outside circumstances that may temporarily change my rituals and routines such as a high volume shifts that may cause me to go in early or the weatherman may decide if my brisk morning walk may not be an option. I create alternate routines on these days. Regardless I plug in 30 minutes of morning decompression. If I have to leave for work at 4am at 3:30am I’m on my sofa drinking a a cup of coffee with my feet rested on the floor. I’m not autistic my day goes better when I perceive I’m in control of it.

This is a healthy practice for me.

As I was driving my daughter to school the other day she remarked about an observation she made.

“You don’t get as angry at the traffic as you used to”

I said “thank you”

Last week as I was driving to work my mind told me I can get angry about the traffic all around me. I can stomp my feet and scream at the top of my lungs, I’m still going to arrive work at the same time.

I flipped a switch in my head. For some probable coincidence I’ve been arriving to work about 5 minutes earlier than average ever since. No I haven’t broken the traffic matrix. Sometimes slow and steady does win the race.

Perspective

I go into work clear headed and focused. Yes I still deal with people with “broken” turn signals and others who stare down at their crotch instead of watching traffic but I no longer allow it to affect my day. It’s not in my control so I release its control over me. I’m controlling the energy around me. This isn’t mystical it’s literal science.

It’s fixing me ever so slightly. Like a harmonic flow soft music while you’re receiving a massage.

A message massage.

For me to understand energy and frequency I focus it into how music helps me. I turn energy into music. This didn’t happen overnight and it’s a work in progress.

I haven’t driven more than 5 miles over the speed limit in two weeks. This isn’t deliberate my foot feels lighter on the pedal.

I think I posted something about creating your own life algorithms. I can’t remember which one I posted. I have a few thousand words floating around waiting to roost on being published. Some never will. Sometimes I go all over the place. I’m meant to. I’m absorbing so many things I need a cloud backup soon.

My reckoning is slowly evolving into a pursuit of harmony. I call this phase two of my rehabilitation. Three years plus of putting aside the things that hinder my mind to heal and push forward.

Even when you push away some bad habits it doesn’t fix you like airplane model glue. You have to reckon with yourself as an individual.

And I have

And I am

I’m slowly changing my life algorithms.

Balancing

I turned part of my deli upside down during this phase. There was no provocation it just seemed to fit what I was looking for. I was angry at the deli for about 4 months. This little property made gosh dang sure I was mentally toughened for it. I wish it had given me a warning..

You could feel my tired and frustrated energy when you walked in. Add to the fact that I hadn’t been in the public eye for three years.

I started going through all of my old notes of things I had planned. I had forgotten so many ideas or disregarded due to stress and a few opening hiccups. Some ideas didn’t reveal themselves so well once I tried them. That happens frequently but it’s the only way to find out. I built the deli to harness positive energy way before I got on this vibration kick.

Manifestation

It’s taken me a while to harness the positivity I put into it. It’s finally coming back. I spent my afternoon yesterday putting a little of my hard earned money back into it. Not because I had to. It felt good to do it. I still have some work to finish but she’s getting there. Again.

8 months later.

This deli is literally an extension of me. If I’m happy the deli looks happy. If I’m tired my deli looks empty. The displays are transparent and almost empty. If I’m rearranging it means my mind is in a hundred different places. It will always be evolving because I’m evolving. I told someone the other day this deli is a social experiment to myself. I’m doing what feels right. Period. If I change just a tad so will the deli. If you’re a regular then enjoy the ride.

Also plants are expensive

My thumb needs to turn green sooner than later.

It’s a part of my harmonic phase. Why? Don’t ask me I’m just doing what my intuition tells me.

This write up started with the heading “and go”. It’s symbolic of what I’m writing today. This is one of those open up and start writing day. I enjoy these as they are a little more challenging. I’ve always heard never post your first draft but I do it all the time. Most I don’t even go back and edit y’all can figure out the mistakes.

It’s honest and sometimes broken. That’s not so bad.

Cheers

I would say this is for the guys but I don’t try to separate mental awareness and anxiety from sexes. If what I write pings on your radar then it’s beneficial to anyone to read. I don’t pretend to know how anyone else’s mind comprehends their own mental awareness but I feel like we all link up one way or another.

Anyway

I cry.

A lot

Daily? Maybe not, sometimes I have things I need to get done and I don’t have time for it. No that doesn’t mean I schedule a crying session but also, why not? Growing up I was taught I wasn’t suppose to cry. “Big boys don’t cry” Hell they sing songs about it.

“Be quiet, big boys don’t cry” repeats in- I’m not in love, in a cold whisper – 10cc which happens to be one of my nighttime playlist favorites.

I got beat up for crying on my school bus. My brother would belittle me if I cried. My mother would tell me to stop. Father figures would tell me to stop too and also add “be a man!”

None of this scarred me, well maybe the ass beatings but they left a lasting impression.

When I hit adulthood crying was set aside only for death and breakups. I pushed stress cries aside, happy cries, quick car drive cries. As a grown ass man I’m not suppose to cry especially in public. I haven’t cried at one single funeral. Some of the most important people in my life have passed and I kept my tears restrained at their funerals.

A dry eyed eulogy for one of my ex employees who succumbed to alcoholism.

My daughter has never seen my cry but I’m sure she’s heard me. My life is no rainbow by any means.

I was prescribed anti- depressants at one time. I quit taking them because they didn’t allow me to cry. I wanted better control of my emotions. I didn’t want them smothered.

Have you ever had a good cry? The ones that require a roll of toilet paper by your side? Swollen eyes, snot running out of both nostrils

A good solid sobbing

It’s a healthy heave

A wet wringing of acceptance

An unleashing of pent up energy

An oil change

Flushing out the of built up toxicity you’ve kept in your mental oil pan.

I experience these frequently when I write about certain topics. My family and how close I came to losing them, some old childhood memory I’ve kept repressed for years, unleashing my stress from a difficult week of work, sobriety

I let it all out

And my open mental sores begin to close. Not all but they all get bandaged up. Writing is my morning crying routine. I’ve rarely had a morning lately where I haven’t cried at least a little. Yesterday I was in my usual work zone, focused on getting $1k worth of charcuterie to a house in Simpsonville at 7am. I was just going through the motions of ensuring I didn’t let a bunch of meats, cheeses and fruit origami slide around. I dropped off the goods and head back to work. As I crested the frontage road to the highway, the sun was cresting over the horizon and it hit my eyes just as the light turned red enough to make me sit and enjoy it.

I’ve never wished for a traffic light to remain red longer until yesterday. I drove over to the side of the bridge and watched it rise up between the power lines.

And I cried. I had a big smile on my face. I knew that yesterday would be a good day. It told me it would be and it didn’t let me down.

Random but I don’t think I’ve gone more than 5 miles over the speed limit this entire week. I haven’t been in my “everything is f}%^ed if you don’t hurry up!” phase this week.

This is a big deal for me. A really big one. I’m enjoying the break.

I didn’t start these crying episodes until I started writing. It’s quite the therapy session and it’s free. I get them at night too when I’m meditating. Sometimes I’ll get hit with some amazing discoveries in my head

And I’ll cry. My pillow has witnessed some quiet transactions of peace and tranquility.

Gratuitous gratitude

My oil changes

I’m working on my own little diagram of balance. I’m trying to mentally align myself in between these little tiny energy vortexes of

Harmony

Gratitude

Love

Perspective

Peace

Awareness

Empathy

Respect

I want all of these spinning around me like a well tailored suit. Not a force field of protection but an aura of understanding. I want to be the sun to these feelings

My own little orbit of growth.

I pinged on some good things the last few weeks. My trail markers have been so clear I can smell the highlighter fluid. Harnessing it has been a full time job. I’m a cultivator.

Letting off some emotional steam first thing in the morning and during your night time routine is key. At least to me. Give it a try. I’m not selling courses yall this is all for free.

Man I can cry at the drop of a hat now. Big boys do cry and should.

If you feel like you need one pull your car over and let it out. Scream if you want to.

Maybe not post it on social media but hey if it makes you happy then by all means.

Do it in the present. Don’t fog it up. Y’all know exactly what I’m talking about.

Today is a day of rest and repair. No camping adventures, no menu thinking or tweaking. I’ll have a little dusting of yoga and morning walk with heart full of gratitude. I’ll be absorbing the energy and love of my family and pushing the medias aside for the day.

You won’t find me today immersed in the negs I’m hanging with the pos.

I’ve already had my good cry for the day.

Cheers