Don’t worry I don’t throw these words around at 5:25am to pump my own vocabulary and to be honest I rolled over this term yesterday afternoon while reading. I would consider my stepping into this term, that would shatter my chance of winning a spelling bee, a trail marker of sorts.

Off and on I’ll read a little Carl Jung and some of his writings and or theories ping. I don’t sit at home and read Jung for hours my mind can focus on this type of thing for about 20 minutes at a time before I’m staring off at my toenails.

But it pinged

I’ll use a slingshot here to illustrate although I may change or add another illustration. I use illustrations in my mind to help understand somethings that may fly over my head. It’s also why I probably write in metaphors a lot. I think in metaphors.

Think of a slingshot, an unbreakable one.

Stop.

Rewind.

I need a different approach. Not for you but for me personally. I need to describe it in a way for me to understand it or it’s going to get paraphrased to the point of fucking it up. I do that a lot too.

I’m a cool weather person. Summer is fine but I live in the south and the humidity can kiss my ass once it’s late June to August. I don’t like sweating profusely while standing still in the shade. I enjoy winter more. I can wear soft warm loose clothing, hoodies, hats, warm socks. I enjoy camping in cool weather, fire pits and cozy blankets at night.

Coffee tastes better too. I’m in my element.

Now if I were to encounter a ridiculously cold winter or relocate somewhere that it snows weekly and the average temperature is below zero it may change my whole outlook on winter. It may cause my mood to swing to a summer lifestyle. I may go from high altitude mountain life (which I prefer) to low country beach life. My pendulum for winter has swung completely to summer. The winter experience was such a crisis that I sold all of my parkas and skis for a thong and beach towel.

That’s Enantiodromia

When something becomes too extreme it flips to the opposite out of necessity.

A personal example. If anyone read my blog a while back about my school bus days where I was a subject of bullying that I received for a few years. I was a quiet and shy kid growing up. Violence wasn’t in my wheelhouse. I took some beatings until I flipped into a violent person. I became a violent person to protect myself out of necessity. That wasn’t a pendulum more of a slingshot.

Same meaning if you get my message.

Enantiodromia – running towards the opposite.

Day >night

Life >death

I believe Jung was taking some pointers from Heraclitus who believed reality was structured opposite tensions

Order >brunch service (sorry had to throw that in there) also known as chaos. Something I’m well aware of. That would be another example. I used to embrace chaos for years in the service industry. It was my badge of honor. It became so extreme that my body and mind flipped to order and stillness.

I think that’s enough for now.

Enantiodromia

Do you feel something shifting? I don’t mean tectonic plates, political views or weather.

Something is shifting.

Globally

And

We need to embrace this shift.

Collectively

We’ve all been pulled.

Pulled

Pulled

Pulled

Pulled

The system wants balance. The system being us collectively.

Collectively is where momentum builds.

Tides go in, tides go out. It’s the balance of nature. What happens when the tide goes waaaaaaaaaaay out?

Tidal wave

We live in a system of balance. Not our own government or world system that’s broken. Laws of nature type. Push an inflatable ball underwater eventually it’s going to pop back up. If you’re looking down at it chances are you’re going to get knock in the teeth with it.

The more we are pulled around the more energy is building up on the pushing side of the spectrum. The push back side.

Energy is building up.

For the push.

Collective push.

Not a push from the left, right, middle or apolitical.

This isn’t politics this is spiritual. Natural law.

That’s the shift you’re feeling. Or at least I’m hoping it is.

Listen I’m not a psychic, tarot reader, shaman or any hippie shit that you’re probably calling me right now.

I’m just becoming more aware. Not by choice. I’m following my instincts and trail markers. I’ve been shifting for a while.

Collectively we can accomplish things much greater than individuals.

That’s why they divide. They pull us into micro groups while we pull each other into even smaller ones. Micro groups, when they push back don’t make a dent.

A bee sting only stings.

A swarm can clear out a football field.

Collectively

That’s the shift.

That’s the shift I’ve been talking about for a while. My one employee thinks I’m crazy.

“Next year Barry there will be a shot heard around the world that will cause a collective consciousness shift.” – Chad Gangwer February 2025. Hell I even reposted it the other day.

Enantiodromia

The collective consciousness calls for balance.

We are the collective consciousness. We’ve always been but we are farmed to be divided and pulled away.

The push is coming. If you open your eyes

And your mind

Just don’t push the balance too far the other way. You can be outraged without burning the entire house down. We are better than that.

We can flip over tables though.

Collectively.

Life moves at a faster pace the longer you’re around.

I think that’s why the older we get the slower we move. When you’re younger you’ve got too much time on your hands. Or it seems feels that way. I know the phrase “I’m bored” was on autopilot when I was in my teens and early 20s.

At my time in life you literally do stop and smell the flowers. You walk instead of run. You read instead of glance. Even my music tastes have slowed down. I need to stop tailgating the elderly when I’m shopping. Let them enjoy their level of life.

I lied in bed last night for a bit. Answered a lot of questions dancing around in my head. Sometimes I can get a good view of life when I’m still and focused. I had a lot of noise in my head the past few days.

I needed to retain my sovereignty.

The holiday season still sits in my bones and joints a little longer this year. I’ve got a different horizon of life in my heart right now. Food industry is slowly sliding away.

I can’t quit you baby – Led Zeppelin is in my headphones. Man it’s surreal when the music matches your voice. My mood. Usually by this time I back to boxes with same body motion as normal but not this time. My mind is in another world.

A much better world.

My eyes opened over a year ago and now all I do is observe. That’s what my intuition and instincts tell me to do.

Be still. Don’t engage. I get it but I kinda want to burn things down. I’ve always been the igniter not the watcher.

My patriotism has expired by no fault of mine. Man I was the guy that stood up the straightest when the pledge of allegiance was presented.

Allegiance? To what exactly? Allegiance is a collaboration. Hand in hand. Teamwork makes the dream work? It’s a two way street and it’s been rerouted.

This isn’t about “not my president” it’s about not the country I thought it was at one time. This isn’t an overnight sensation by golly the government has been chipping away for some time.

“I pledge the allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under god, with liberty and justice for all.”

Gtfo with that

Chad does that mean you won’t stand at the pledge? Are you going to kneel?

I’m not even going to show up to the event. You no longer get anything from me.

Patriotism is a stale piece of bread and fiction

Break that down any way you like.

News barely covers the news anymore. If it does I automatically assume it’s propaganda or lying. That’s a trap they set for us years ago.

One nation under god? Which god are we referring to?

Ever been to the Hoover Dam? Just a big ass dam holding a powerful water source. It also has winged statues flanking a star map. Zodiac wheel embedded on the floor.

Denver airport? Just a big glowing pale horse with blazing eyes sticking out for no good reason. Mural showing war, masks and children. Masonic capstone and gargoyles. Pretty wild for a midwestern airport.

Washington monument just a big fat obelisk sticking out of the ground in our nations capital. Speaking of the capital the streets of DC are made into a pentagram and points right to the capital. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.

*yawns

Oh yeah Mt Rushmore. I went there a few years ago. Sealed Hidden hall of records is a bit weird behind Abe’s head.

We could go off track and chat about the Statue of Liberty and its comparison to Lucifer. That’s too far for a lot of you. Even me sometimes.

200 pyramids in the US alone. Don’t remember studying that in history class. “It’s just big pointy rocks folks”

School? Remember all your textbooks? Macmillan/ McGraw Hill School publishing? That’s Robert Maxwell. Quite the media proprietary giant. Maybe you know his daughter’s name Ghislaine.

These aren’t conspiracies guys. You can google this.

We’ve had propaganda inserted at birth. Catch up folks I’ve been here awhile. Now that you’ve seen or read with your own eyes what the elites are doing with children this shit isn’t so off base now is it? Alex Jones is a fucking nut job but he’s not that far off..

Want to go deeper? Adrenochrome is just a conspiracy theory right? Remember Monsters Inc? Cute movie. Goes over the topic of scaring the shit out of kids to get their adrenaline. What a cool and fun movie. It’s referencing adrenochrome. Hollywood is amazing at showing you what’s really going on without admitting it. Sounds crazy right?

Right?

Why is it always schools that get shot up? It’s always schools. Always the kids.

Remember when someone tried to light a fuse in their shoe to blow up a plane years ago? After that we had to disrobe and walk barefoot through the airport. Because one guy tried to light a fuse in his shoe. They fixed that real quick.

School shootings? Let’s teach kids how to hide under their desks. Let’s do random scenarios to keep them on their toes.

“Ok kids that’s what we do if someone walks into our school at any given moment and starts killing your friends. Now let’s open up our textbooks published by the father whose daughter is the queen of a global sex trafficking organization to chapter 6 about our Freemason founding fathers.

Random wild thought. Isn’t crazy the one Space Shuttle that blew up to shit was the one that was televised in our schools to watch? Also let’s put a teacher on there to really make it hit home at school.

It’s

Always

The

Kids

Am I crazy? Yeah I’ve been for a while but this, THIS shit is too much to be a coincidence.

I watch some of you and you’re slowly waking up. The veil is fading. You’re fortunate because for me it was ripped off my face like duct tape. For some random crazy reason this was “downloaded” into my head in about a week. Try shuffling this shit around in your mind while trying to make charcuterie boxes.

The Bible? Oh the Bible is amazing. It’s not a comic book by any means.

But

It’s coded. Heavily coded and manipulated over time. Jesus is 💯 real but he’s not that turn the other cheek guy and he’d be disappointed to see the thousands of churches created around his “likeness”. I’m done on that subject some of you unfortunately will think I’m being disrespectful when I’m being the opposite. We all need Jesus. Just not the way you think.

Man my intuition fucking nailed 2026 so far. Y’all really need to engage in some psilocybin.

Life’s short.

This will ruffle some feathers but to be honest I don’t care anymore. Information needs to be seen. Shared.

My daughter is sitting across the room from me eating her breakfast. I want to grab a spaceship and take her far away from here right now.

Wake up folks. It’s just beginning.

Peace.. ☮️

I don’t title a lot of these until I’m done for the morning. Started a long blog yesterday and pushed it aside. It felt like a rant towards mass public behavior and man I don’t want to be that guy again.

Observe don’t absorb

I want to shake about 200,000,000 of you by your shoulders and point at one specific subject.

I’m a father of a 16 year old daughter. The minute she was an ultrasound picture my life became wrapped around her being. When she was just a bump I’d kiss my wife’s (fiancée at the time) belly and tell her I loved her. After her birth I cradled her and have yet to put her down.

My instincts were if it’s a boy I’ll raise him to be a shield for women if it’s a girl I’ll dedicate my life to being hers. I have 5 sisters also that I love with all my heart.

The second she was born the thought of burning the whole world down if someone harmed her burned in my head.

It’s instinct. It has never left me. Even when I pass away you can be assured I will still be there watching over her.

The things I would do to a person/people that ever tried to hurt my daughter..

This isn’t broadcasting. I fully aware of what I’m capable of doing.

After my daughter’s arrival I’ve become attached to the better being of all children. My fatherhood fully absorbed the innocence of children.

Fragility

Carefree

Loving

I witnessed first hand with my daughter. When I see other kids especially daughters, I smile at their innocence. I don’t even know them and I’m their protector. I would kill for your kids.

Without hesitation.

Who hurts a child? Who tortures a child for fun? Doesn’t even refer to them as children.

2300 children a day go missing in this country. 460,000 a year.

I had a shady looking man walk up behind me while I was putting my daughter into her car seat downtown about 15 years ago. I saw him well before he thought I did. I had a knife six inches from his throat before he got to my truck.

He left quickly.

Another sexual predator followed my wife and child around Publix. It was obvious enough that my wife had to find a male manager. We found him online. He was registered. I found him pumping gas solo at a gas station across the street from my home and we had a conversation.

Those are the only two people whose life I have physically threatened. Both have the same connection. I thought my daughter’s (and wife) safety was in jeopardy.

I’m in better control of my emotions now. Don’t mistake that as a weakness.

I’ve read often that you inherit trauma from your parents. Three generations of fathers in two world wars in my blood. I’m a very high strung individual. Even sober. Drinking I was a fucking maniac.

I haven’t read one excerpt from the “files”. I’m not sure I will. The amount of hellish debauchery and torture I’ve heard isn’t good for my mental health. I used to watch Faces of Death while eating popcorn. It wouldn’t phase me.

I see everyone saying “they’ll all get away with it”

“They’re untouchable”

“They control everything”

All I can think about when I hear about it is “what if it was your child?”

A young girl prayed to Jesus while she was raped and tortured. They used that as fodder.

Once I read about that I had to put my phone down for the day.

Observe don’t absorb was thrown out of the window.

All I see is my daughter’s face when I hear these.

I can feel my teeth grinding.

Peter Frampton “Do You Feel Like I do” is playing in my ears right now.

Good capture

Pause

There should only be one subject matter in our lives right now. It blows my mind how many of you will still jump on Facebook and bitch about the division tactics thrown at you.

You’re ignorant. If this hurts your feelings I’ve got two more words for you.

Your punching two separate balls in the sack attached to the same dick

You call out people for being sheep? You’re on the same farm guys and gals.

There’s no jail good enough for this folks.

And guess what “patriots”? I use that term loosely.

It’s all coming from our own country.

I’m not a Trump lover and I was raised a conservative. I don’t go online bitching about him either I don’t like to partake in the online noise. I don’t post politics.

This isn’t political.

This is global responsibility of wiping the earth clean of this evil.

Because that is exactly what it is.

You were told “we are going to release the files”

Then you were told “there are no files”

Then the no files get released and you’re told “ok now it’s time to move on”

All

By

The

Same

Person

And you still wave his fucking flag from your house.

Fucking hypocrites.

And I’m a conservative. Hell no I’m not. Scratch that. I’m a father, a husband and a human with a conscience.

Don’t ever put me in a political category again. I don’t want to be either one of you. Cut the puppet strings.

You line the streets for political reasons.

Homes aren’t hard to find. Eventually the police who also have children of their own will lose interest in protecting shit bags.

Man I’m not observing very well right now.

All you gravy rangers? Now’s your time to shine I suppose if you can get over the brown people taking all your jobs. If you’re still talking about colors just stay away from me. My respect doesn’t have the slightest care for you right now.

I may not post this one. I ranted against my good faith. I needed to

Meh fuck it. I’m letting it out.

“Do you feel like I do?”

6:39am

I move slow on Mondays. It’s my last day off before resuming deli work for the week. I deliberately slow things down a few notches. It’s my day of stillness and rest. I’m shaking it up a bit to go hiking. I haven’t been outdoors in a while and it’s starting to get to me. I don’t mean going for a walk or run, or sitting under a tree although those are some solid options.

I need sweat, uphill cadence, sun on my face and a fat hilltop to gaze over the landscape.

I gotta free range for a few hours. That’s my intention. Table Rock has a new trail for me to hike. November was the last time I laced my shoes to walk up a mountain. Every weekend for the past three months I’ve either had a big order on my day off, snow, sleet, rain or I was moving and packing. My mental health is fine and that’s quite the accomplishment because it wasn’t so long ago I’d be climbing the walls to get outside.

I’m good y’all. Just trying to get some sun on my face and mud on my shoes.

I gave myself 30 minutes to write this morning. Soon it’ll be the gym, yoga and straight to the mountains. I am beside myself with folly. I write with my phone. Some days my fingers can dance all over this keyboard and I can type like a madman. Other days my thumbs go dumb and I’m backspacing like drunk Chad trying to express himself on a Facebook post. This is one of those days.

My thumbs are off by a millimeter. Or if you go by the standard American measurement, they’re off by a mule hair.

In another two weeks or so I can resume my outdoor activities with my camper. Hopefully, maybe three.

Spent my Sunday hanging some art and frames all over our new home with one of my favorite people. The walls are finally coming alive and the home is settling. My feathers stayed slightly ruffled for the first two weeks as we acclimated into our nesting phase. If there is one box sitting out that doesn’t belong I stare at it until I make it go away. Moving it out of my site does absolutely nothing because I will get up and stare at it. If I put it in a closet it will speak like a Shakespearean raven into my head until I reckon with it.

Nevermore

Nevermore

Nevermore

Just unpack the box Chad and go about your day. Well I finally did yesterday. Well except for one. I still have a 100 lb dresser that has to climb some stairs.

The plus side are my walls are 3D now with still life.

8 more minutes

Bought a new stand for my tv to stand on. I’m curious if tv legs could bend would we have the options for TV sits? It was a Costco buy I’ve been sitting on my annual Costco check for about 10 months now. Used it to purchase a 75 inch stand and rolled it out. I’m mentioning the length of the box because it’s relevant to my next side story.

My truck bed is 73.7 inches long. Box was just a tad too long. No problem Chad you can just leave the tailgate down. Yeah I could’ve before last week before I purchased a ridiculously big and heavy tire hitch swing for my spare tire. It’s a Rig’d hitch swing. Big and fancy. I bought it used as I do most things that I consider way overpriced. I love it. Carries my 5th 33in Yokohama billabong bouncer all radial reed monster truck national champion off-roaders.

I don’t know shit about tires yall. All I know is they handle well in the mud and they destroyed my mpgs.

Comes with a fancy fold down table and a cutting board.

And a gas can.

Probably around 80lbs dry. and it’s bolted tight.

Can’t drive with my tailgate down. Tried to force it you know cardboard is can bend and shit. Closed my tailgate and it goes “nope” and pops off my truck. Right in front of a dozen Costco people that I most likely bumped with my cart for being slow.

Didn’t know tailgates could do that. Yeah I did but wasn’t expecting it to happen at Costco in the pouring rain. A Good Samaritan helped me shove a 90 pack of paper towels under the box so I could hover it over my disheveled tailgate that held on like a loose tooth until we got home. I enjoyed a nice 55° shower as I finagled my tailgate back into submission. All of this for a rectangular box for my tv to sit on top of.

Welp I went 3 minutes over. Time to climb a mountain.

Peace.

Our reality is based on certainty.

Certainty comes from our grasp of evidence and information we’ve accumulated over our lifetime.

Throw a ball up in the air it comes right back down. No matter how hard you or anyone else throws it

It comes back down

If you drive a car across the country without putting any gas in it you’ll end up breaking down on the side of the road.

It is certain.

Sometimes you are certain due to past experiences, evidence and subjective environments. “I am certain it will be hot if we go to that festival in Charleston next August.”

One thing is for certain. We don’t like when our certainty is being questioned. We don’t like questioning our own certainty.

There’s a large, LARGE mass of us questioning it right now.

The people we were certain had the capacity of helping us

Our heroes

Our past ones too

Our history

Our religion or our faith in our beliefs.

Our country being the beneficiary of that foam hand with the big finger exclaiming number one status.

Jesus

God

Heaven and Hell

You can Google the two types of certainty I’m not a scholar by any means. I write what I feel is certain and then I’ll research what may not be. If I’m not certain how to interpret my own thoughts and words I’ll look it up so I don’t fuck it up. Even if I’m almost certain. I certainly don’t want to get caught with my pants down.

Anyway here we go

Epistemic certainty – relies on solid evidence and rationality. Beliefs are considered true and indisputable. Gravity, death and taxes.

Certitude – subjective certainty. A conviction of being or feeling right. Your beliefs cause by cognitive biases and confirmation bias.

Religion falls under this category as does some political ideology for a lot of you. Parental upbringing, environment.

We get reeeeeal uncomfortable when something we’ve been certain about our whole lives becomes the uncertainty.

Easy going certainty – “ah it’s raining, this little umbrella should keep me dry.”

*opens umbrella and then wind blows it inside out. Fabric tears

“I was certain if I brought my umbrella with me I’d stay dry!”

Big time certainty – “if that storm comes I’m certain my roof over my home will be fine.”

*tree falls on house, wind blows roof off of your home.

Most of us have been carrying around that same umbrella, hugging the awnings, walking under balconies as we walk hoping we don’t have to use that umbrella we used to be certain would keep us dry.

Now many of us are entering the roof phase.

A big storm is on the horizon. Possibly the biggest we’ve ever experienced.

You’re about to have a lifetime of certainty ripped out of your hands.

Or

The storm may just fly right over your heads.

A few of you won’t even see the clouds. It’s not that you’re ignorant. Your self certainty may keep you dry until the roof falls on your head over time. We don’t like our certainties challenged.

Don’t let your certainties limit you. That’s exactly what the plan has always been.

If they’ve been stripped away don’t lose your ever loving mind and burn the earth down.

That’s what they want to. Fodder from your emotions.

Real soon

We are all going to question our certainties.

Religion is going to be the hardest for a lot of you. Probably the biggest. What you’ve been told and taught may not resonate the same way. I’m not here to tell you what is true or false. My certainties on this subject is just like yours. Certitude.

Subjective.

Some of you are in for a big surprise. I won’t go further into this discussion. It’s impossible to question another’s belief system without them getting uptight. My customer base is smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt.

I need customers.

Government umbrella? Well if you are the type of person that the government is here to help us well then boy howdy you’re gonna have a hard time with that one.

Seek shelter quickly. Also for the love of god stop the adulation of politicians. Any of them.

Your certainty for healthcare and medicine

Certainty of the food you eat. Even the “organic” brands are poisoning you.

If you’re plugged into this machine you have to raise your eyebrow and notice a shitload of pimples are coming to a head at one time.

A perfect storm.

No I’m not spouting revelations. Turn that knob down for a bit it’s been blaring in your ears your whole life.

Side note: what would you do if revelations had already happened years and years ago?

I don’t discuss religion much. We’ve all been taught to take what has been taught as a certainty or its eternal damnation.

Certainty by scare tactics.

Just like the government teaches us about the “evil empires” of Russia, China and Iran.

Can’t root for the good guy without inserting the bad guy.

Thank god we’ve had Sylvester Stallone beating their asses during the Cold War we created.

Man I sure miss shoving my body under my desk as a kid to practice for nuclear wars. Let’s scare the shit out of little Timmy before recess. I used to watch planes fly over my home as a kid and I’d wonder if it was a Russian missile. I was certain that we were all going to die in a nuclear holocaust. Hell they even made a movie about it and wait, WAIT! Then they made us watch it in school.. I can still see the person getting fried to dust while standing by the link fence. 40 years later.

Hey it worked!

We are certain about how we feel about countries we’ve never stepped foot on. By who we are certain we can trust

It’s crumbling down now.

London fucking bridges folks

Time to recalibrate your certainties.

The system is shit. Always has been. You’ve been taught and trained to swim in it. Keep close to the sides so you don’t get flushed down the drain with your uncertainties.

The world is in salt shaker mode.

“Are we all going to die Chad?”

We are energy. Energy doesn’t die. Once you make that a certainty your reality changes focus a bit.

I’m not here to question your certainties. It’s not my job or place. All I’m saying is let go a little. Don’t absorb all the stress that’s deliberately being thrown at you.

Observe

Don’t

Absorb

Stop yelling at each other. We all need to observe and pay attention. No that doesn’t mean you can’t rage from time to time just don’t rage on your neighbors.

It’s fodder for the ones we need to starve out.

I’m not a prophet. I’d laugh at that. I’ve had this intuition my entire life that I would witness something big. Couldn’t tell you what, where, who or when? Just that feeling in your gut, a fly buzzing in my brain that I would experience something very profound. 2024 my intuition told me that 2025 my life would change. And indeed it did sitting in my tent on an island.

And then it poked my head and said “2026”

And that was it

Me- “2026 what?”

*crickets

Me now in 2026- “oh. Ok. So this may be it? Or the beginning?”

*very slight nod

Am I certain? I think I may throw that word out for a bit. Maybe you should too if you don’t like surprises. I’ve started questioning too many certainties of late.

As I should have all along.

Set your alarms to new times yall. Wake up.

What does that mean Chad?

I’m not certain.

Stop yelling at your friends and neighbors. The noise is distracting you.

That I am certain

Peace ☮️

I’m not sure if I could keep up with the days of the week if it weren’t for my work schedule. My mind hasn’t reset into auto calendar since the holidays. Snow days might’ve thrown me off and moving across town has messed my loops so I’m not doing the regular daily routine I’m used to. Also I joined the Y this week after a 30 year hiatus.

I’m off kilter, I’m out of my comfort zone. This is exactly what I wanted to do. I can already feel my daily thoughts redirecting into a new radio wave. I’m tuning into it deliberately.

My mind pinged when I rejoined the Y. This is my intuitional signal that I took the right path. I love it when I hit a bullseye. I took around a year off from the gym, from the focus of grinding physically and focused on my inner muscle. That sounded weird.. I did home workouts for the time being. Light weights, ropes and calisthenics. I didn’t get soft I only maintained. I did shrink a little. I don’t like bulky. I like fluid motion. At 54 I’m not trying to squat 350 lbs. I’m doing deep knee stretches and hip flexes.

Lack of mobility kills you faster than noodle arms.

My wife says I have gorilla arms. Not because of their diameter but because my arms can reach limbs from afar.

I was hoping the move would jolt my mind and routines and I’m taking advantage of it. Relocating is a good way to start over on some old ways that have stuck to you over time. Little things become big things if you overlook them. That tiny little hole in your roof doesn’t repair itself.

If you let something drip for too long you’ll eventually need to carry around a bucket.

I drive by the Y on the way to work and back. Two opportunities to change my daily routines and I take advantage of it. New faces, new equipment, new energy. New hood to walk and I can do sprints once again.

I fucking love sprints. Even at 54 I can push off fairly well. You don’t want a hamstring pull when you got a hog chasing you in the woods. Sounds funny as hell until you’ve run into one of these brutes while hiking. Everyone thinks about bears. A hog will fuck you up. Big cats will too. “There aren’t any big cats in SC” I almost hit one on my way home from Baltimore 20 years ago. Jumped in front of my truck in Gaffney on I-85 around 11pm.

“That was probably a deer Chad”

Deers dont have long tails. I’ve also seen a cub in that same area although it may have been a bobcat.

Pspspspspspsp

Random, I always wear a ball cap backwards when hiking the Rockies to deter mountain lions from jumping me from behind. Bears are the last thing on my mind out there.

Always carry if you’re a solo hiker

Where was I?

I mentioned recently I don’t write about work as much. I pulled a work muscle during the holidays. Another reason why I focus on the art of slowing down. I’m reeeealll close to throwing charcuterie out the window. I go through these phases a few times a year. Probably because I haven’t been outside for more than an hour since November.

Moving and inclement weather has kept me busy.

I’ll look at some of my pictures of trips in the spring and I can smell the wind. I’m ready for that smell again. Every state has its own distinct odor.

I was trying for some new music this morning but John Prine calls today.

“I’ve been down this road before
Alone as I can be
Careful not to let my past
Go sneaking up on me
Got no future in my happiness
Though regrets are very few
Sometimes a little tenderness
Was the best that I could do”

Prine was/is the best.

I reckon I’ve got about three more weeks before I can go camping again. Heading to Utah in April again with my bud (again). Looking forward to it greatly. Still gotta find a place for him to sleep.

Tetons post summer. I’ve never had a place scream at me so loudly before. Long drive buddy you gotta give me time. Crested Butte won’t leave me alone either.

If I could measure our move in progress I’d say we are three quarters of the way settled. Not sure when in our evolution it became important to hang a bunch of shit on our dwelling walls but it’s the last step. A bunch of still life pics of us doing activities in exotic places.

2D representations of family members smiling.

Random art projects of friends and purchases.

I don’t like puncturing holes with nails and screws. I can hear the house screaming.

I’m joking

Those wall hanger tape things are complete shit. Itll randomly say “fuck it” and fall off your walls at any given time. You’re sitting at home watching The Price is Right and your hanging pic of deceased Aunt Edna drops dead on the floor.

Again

Sorry that was dark. I don’t have an aunt Edna nor do I have any aunts hanging anywhere in my house.

Think this is a good time as any to wrap this up for the day.

Peace.

Journaling is my growth.

It’s my release.

I looked back to some of my very first posts this morning I reread some to see my progress in writing and also my mental health. Both are improving thank you. I wince at some of my journaling, I’m my biggest critic and supporter.

Watching my voice change over time

My style

Most importantly my story.

Two years of writing I’m not sure how many posts I’m not going back to count but I’ve written at least 150,000 words. That’s about a quarter of War and Peace.

I write to hone my skills and I write to release my thoughts.

Growth.

Each word you write down is a release. It’s a release of expression, pressure and emotion. You don’t even have to post it publicly. I do. It takes guts folks. I don’t post on here for TMI recognition I post because I know my feelings and expressions are shared with many others. Sometimes you might relate to what I’m going through and think

“I’m not alone after all”

That’s why I share them. And to hold myself accountable for what I say. Somedays I think I’m wasting my time when I do but I still post them up for myself. The past week I had three different people I ran into tell me that they enjoy reading these.

That’s all I needed.

Yeah I do it for me but as I mentioned earlier I try to remind that we are all relatable whether you like someone or not we all share the same struggles.

I began journaling on here in March of 2023. Almost two years under my belt. My vocabulary has grown I find myself using words in conversations and in my head I’m “where the hell did that word come from?” Sometimes I’ll even use it correctly..

I got to know myself better after I started writing. I’m notating your inner dialogue. Sometimes I’ll jot something down and stare at it.

“Why did you choose to say that?”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Is this feeling unnecessary now?”

“This emotion is no longer apart of you”

“Let it go”

I’ve let go quite a bit. Trauma, bitterness, anxiety I could go on. I read some of my first entries and I’m experiencing an older version of me. I don’t talk the same way. I don’t think the same way.

I keep writing. Everyday.

It’s my devotion.

Devotion to a better me.

Everyday

Like Bradley Cooper in Burnt shucking his oysters until he’s paid his dues.

Devotion

It’s changed me and it’s meant to because my trail markers tell me so.

My writing sometimes exposes my trail markers. I ended my 4 years of reckoning because my writing told me to. Literally wrote it on the page for me “Your reckoning is over” I cried for ten minutes when I wrote that.

Writing releases

I’ll go back to that insert regularly when I’m struggling with my old self to remind me that I have nothing else to prove to him.

The demolition is over.

Time to frame a new you.

I couldn’t have done it without the assistance of journaling.

Most of my writing material comes from my meditations. Or when I’m driving up to some mountain holler but I’ve been grounded the last few months. Something will stroll into my mind and I’ll make a little phone note of it. I’ve got quite a few to catch up on some stories are harder to mold than others. Somethings I begin to write are emotional reactions and I burn out once the feeling subsides. I’d like to think it’s the writing that diffuses my bombs.

I’m reprogramming the words I think and say.

Deliberately

I worked in kitchens most of my career the words that sometimes come out of my mouth can be a little crassy. It doesn’t take much abrupt emotion for those words to sing like an angry hummingbird.

If I think before I write the words I say then my mind begins to follow suit.

I can feel the words writing in my head before I say them now. Or at least I’m getting better at it. It’s quite the gem for me. Also it allows me to express myself better. I’m a man of few words if profanity is removed.

I’m working on it.

Some mornings if I actually reread what I wrote I’ll smile and think “man that felt good to let go”

I used to concern myself with my grammar. I let that go months ago. My words are grammatically incorrect. It’s how I speak.

I may not write out “I ain’t got no”

instead of

“I don’t have any”

most of the time but I’m sure as hell thinking it. Thanks for that one Piedmont.

When you write things down you’re creating a visual representation of what you’re thinking

How you’re feeling

A story board of your thoughts.

After you write, stop and look at what you jotted down. Read it aloud like someone else wrote it.

Standing over yourself.

Like a teacher that looks over your shoulder checking your work.

Once you observe how you think you begin to understand that other person that talks to you all the time.

The one that’s scared

The one that doubts

Hesitates

Backs down or away

I lost most of my confidence when I parted ways with my old company. I found it again through writing. This from a guy who never takes notes because he didn’t like to write. Trail marker slapped me in the face to wake that guy up.

Mandolin Rain is in my ears. Highly recommend for a headphones vibe

Bruce Hornsby. Shares my mother’s maiden name.

Writing slows me down. It makes me sit and pay attention something 12 years of rotating teachers were unable to do. I have the low grade report cards to prove it.

Actually I don’t.

Parents don’t save report cards wallpapered with C’s.

Glad my child doesn’t have to deal with that. She’s a smart one. She’s what I wanted to be scholastically. Baton flipped over my head on that exchange.

I’m not embarrassed by my school grades by any means. I was never a C person just the student part. Can’t recall the last person standing in my business asking what my state test scores were while they picked up a charcuterie board.

As I write my work mind is twiddling it’s thumbs – “hey let’s halt the journaling bucko you have a new menu that you’re rolling out today.

Fuck

Fine

Peace and elbows yall.

I wrote a little yesterday but never completed the assignment. Daughter wanted our weekly breakfast yesterday and then a series of side quests caused me to go about my day. I’ve got about 100 drafts in my journaling that may never see the printing press. What’s on my mind one morning may not be writable the next. Often times my mood resets into something completely different and I’m unable to continue whatever I was thinking about the day before.

My thoughts be fleeting

Fleeting on tiny little feet

I had to report to Easley yesterday to have an accessory added to my truck along with a spare tire. A lot of my late childhood revolved around this area and as I was navigating to the traffic on 123 I decided to detour toward Powdersville and then my old stomping ground Piedmont.

I took the backroads off of 81 and puttered around the frontages of roads until I crossed over onto River Rd. My bus route took me along these back roads in middle and half my high school years until my friends were old enough to drive.

Detoured around the old Bentwood neighborhood where I had a handful of friends who lived sporadically along the curvy streets and cul de sacs. Slowed briefly around an old house a group of us used to party in our late teens owned by an older lady that sort of took us in. Sort of. As an adult I often look back at that house and wonder what exactly the fuck we were all doing there. 15-20 recent high school grads getting blasted on Long Island Ice teas and Michelobs.

It was weird man. Fun! But weird..

Drove by a few old houses of friends who are no longer friends and others who whose childhood homes were sold after their parents passed. At this age it’s quite a few. Some neighborhoods looked frozen in time while others looked almost post apocalypse.

Pulled over by the river and reminisced about fishing for carp and catfish with my cousins. Drove to my old step grandparent’s home by the old mill on Archie St. The streets seemed to have gotten narrower, I barely squeezed by a termite truck that was hugging the opposite curb. Flood of memories as I stopped at the steep porch of Ines and Frank, my stepfathers parent’s house for as far back as I can remember. The neighboring home housed many of the siblings of that family. I spent every summer and Christmas on that porch. Spent several weeks sleeping in the mudroom next to washer and dryer. The dining room was filled with a long rectangular table that always had food sitting on it and what seemed to be a passel of company sitting around the kitchen at all hours. The home always had full, warm energy up until Frank, the patriarch of the family became ill with lung cancer. It became a hospital room for a while then until he passed.

I liked Frank. Frank liked me too he was the only grandfather figure I ever had. He was always gentle to me, he was a large man. Would take me to the local hardware store with him and give me a dollar to buy candy . One day we drove to Columbia in his C-J 5 in the sleet and snow. Jeep had very little heat so he placed a wool blanket over my lap to stay warm. I was cold as hell but like I said I liked Frank.

And he liked me.

Frank’s funeral was the first I’d ever cried at.

Drove around the “downtown” area where I’d take my mom for lunch at the local meat and three and it was beyond closed. Awning ripped away from the frame, dull chipped brick and broken windows. My mom always got turkey and dressing, dinner roll and cobbler. It was the only time she could enjoy that type of meal she was always the one hosting the turkey day dinners. Anytime she would cook a big meal for all the family she’d stand by the kitchen table fanning herself off. We went a decade without HVAC in our old home. The table would be set, everyone said Grace and the family ate while my mom stood by the window cooling off. “Im not hungry right after I cook” she always said. She’d get upset if we tried to wait on her to sit down. I always waited. I ate many a cold meals with my mom.

Drove all along the main rd of highway 86 where I lived for 11 years. The old used car lot where I bought my first car, old Pete Beasley’s house where he always sat on the porch and waved. Mrs. Ayer’s the old maid who worked for the high school. Her tiny car would putter by our home at 25mph after school everyday. Slow enough to see her expression as she drove by.

That car never saw the speed limit.

I had a thought of walking along 86 for a bit with a cold Pepsi and junior mints like my momma and I used to do during the summers to Hazzards gas station. I’d play pinball and Galaga there when they had a game room. Piedmont didn’t have much for entertainment in those days. Still doesn’t.

Hazzards is a Starbucks now. Piedmont has a Starbucks? What in the fuck?

My childhood home is gone. I almost drove by the plot without seeing it. My memories of that home are just that now. I had a mix of jolly and folly. I felt a lot of love in that home just not so much the town surrounding it.

It’s nothing personal but it sort of is.

The focus of structure of that old town stops about a half mile down off of exit 35. Downtown has the Saluda Grill as an oasis of rebuilding of a semi historic area but it seems to have stopped in its tracks. I can recall several people reaching out to me to help awaken the downtown area with a business and I just couldn’t see it unfolding. I could be wrong but it seems to be growing on the wrong side of town.

I pulled into the QT by the exit and sat in the lot for a minute.

“I think that’s it Chad.”

There’s nothing here to come back to anymore.

Not sure why I felt the need to drive around the “town” yesterday. I literally veered off of 153 before 85 and thought “let’s go sight seeing”

Maybe I needed to close some old emotional loops and connections and I think I did. This isn’t implying I’ll never drive to Piedmont again.

It just won’t be deliberately if that makes sense. Each street I drove down I closed a gate and locked it. Each memory that phased through my mind grew some wings and fluttered away.

A release of sorts. A mental and physical trail marker steering.

It felt good. Something in my mind collapsed in a good way.

A pinging

Writing this down sealed it. This is why I write.

To release

Job well done sir.

Carry on.

I suffer from speed. No I don’t take amphetamines I barely know how to spell them. Sure I drink a cup or two more coffee than most but I rarely consume caffeine after 9am unless I’m driving long distance and that’s a terrible combination to be honest.

I’ve harped on here dozens of times about my struggle to slooooooow down.

Walk slower

Drive slower

Work slower

Pace slower

Sleep slower (I know that sounds ridiculous it’s my post I can say shit like this)

Write slower. I’m always trying to complete this task in one sitting. This will not be one of those. I have 40 minutes this morning

Life slower. I guess it all comes down to this. I’m not trying to slow down time I’m only wanting to observe it more.

I know when I’m rushing around. My jaw is clenched, my breathing is quick and shallow, I sigh a lot. I’ve gotten very aware of my sighs lately. I could blow a ship with masts across the ocean with them. Sighing isn’t bad, you’re trying to regulate your breathing which regulates your nervous system. My nervous system has been my new project in the last year.

I refer to my nervous system as my human transmission. My mind/brain is the engine. It’s the torque that produces emotions, decisions and impulses. My eyes are the windshield, my ears help with balancing my breath is the regulator.

Also I don’t know shit about cars.

Your nervous system/transmission decides how much torque/force gets delivered. How quickly it’s delivered, when to speed up, coast, pause or park.

Regulates your reaction speed, stress response, sensory integration and muscle activation.

With intention and action it becomes the mediator.

Shifting into park is your sleep mode, deep shutdown

Neutral is meditation, dissociation or observation. This is my still mode. No music, no tv or phone. I like being in neutral first thing in the morning after I’ve been in park all night. Engine is idling, body is humming.

You put yourself in drive and you’re moving in forward motion, guided speed, efficient and stable. You’re in your tolerance zone. You’re cruising to the speed limit, singing along to the radio, traffic is going your way. Parasympathetic AF.

How you accelerate describes how you operate within your fight or flight environment.

If you’re stressed your speed is going to increase and decrease constantly. You aren’t idling at 2000 rpm, you may be going to from start to stop repeatedly, you’ve got one foot on the brake and one on the gas. Sometimes you’re in gridlock but you find yourself revving in neutral. Highways if you don’t maintain a high level of rpms cars will zoom by you, tailgate you, blow their horns at you all while you’re trying to maintain safe speeds. You’re accelerating to keep up with everyone else on the road. Sometimes you’re pulling more weight behind you causing strain on your transmission. On those uphill grinds your rpm’s shoot up to almost 6000 just to get over the hill.

I’m not a car guy but I know what the parts do. Sorta

I got rid of my camping trailer because of the stress it was putting on my transmission on roadtrips. I loved that trailer.

But

My truck’s transmission is more important.

Same goes for a lot of my lifestyle choices. My nervous system is also important. For years I went from park to overdrive. 30 years plus. Accelerating rapidly and slamming on the brakes angrily when others were in my way. I’m always in a hurry to get nowhere. The taller the hill the more gas I gave it. Even downhills, my foot was on the gas there was no coasting in my vibe.

Automatic

The past year I’ve changed my car/attitude. I went to manual. I shift my gears methodically. I like how first gear allows me to stay at one speed until I choose to shift up. If I’m going to fast I can downshift, slow and deliberate.

If I’m sitting still I can pop it in neutral. Let my motor idle within its capacity. Granny gear for those slow mornings when I want to see what’s around me while I acclimate. My first jeep had one. You’d just let the clutch out and let the gear move you forward. No acceleration it wouldn’t allow you to go over 6mph in that gear. Thats the first hour of my morning now. It’s also my gear when I get home from work. I use my overdrive only for high volume days. If I’m off work I don’t get on the highway. I coast on the backroads after everyone is at work. I barely get her out of third gear. Windows are down, tunes are playing Don’t Stop Believing through my speakers.

“Her” being my fascia.

My nervous system. My central transmission system..

I only rev when I have to. When it’s completely necessary.

Im pursuing cruise control at all times. Im on my own highway.

This is my constant focus at the moment. Slowing down. When I slow down I heal, I reflect and rest.

My focus skyrockets

I’m not distracted or stressed.

I like cruise control. And it likes me.

If there’s one grief I have with my business it’s that it puts stress on my transmission. If I’m grinding gears it’s at work. I’m not grinding them in the mountains. Work is my other trailer I pull. I’ve been towing it behind me for far too long.

A crotchety caboose of sorts.

A change of life is always on my mind.

Scooter Blues by Johnny Blue Skies is playing in my ears. I love when my music pairs with my writing. There are no coincidences.

“With the wind in my hair I’m gonna scooter my blues away”

I’m not trying to retire. I’m not TRYING to do anything. I’m aligning with my speed is all.

“Think I’ll move to an island and turn into vapor”- same song

Still vibing

I’m in granny gear at the moment. My feet are crossed on my sofa. My cat is close enough to absorb its purr. Coffee needs refreshing but I’m in no hurry. I’ve got a solid stream of charcuterie today to keep me busy but I can still maintain cruise control. My home is almost settled which makes me idle happily.

Peace and elbow grease.

In the Mood – Robert Plant is playing in my headphones at 5:46. It took a minute for my body to acclimate to Friday (it’s Friday right?) I think the move has slowed my body and mind down for a bit. I’m not in my comfort zone so I think I’m pulling a little bit more energy wading around the home looking for something and everything. I haven’t been home much since we’ve moved any contributions to the unpacking is sporadic before I head into work. I try to complete any chores before work and allow my evenings for downtime. Sometimes it works too well and I’ll kick and scream if I have to put on pants to go eat dinner. By 5:45pm I’ve checked out of the world. I don’t watch the news, I don’t engage with asshats online.

I’m in my zone. It’s dull as hell and man I love me some dull when I crave it. I don’t miss those emails at 10pm alerting me that the salmon salade niçoise went two points over food cost due to a hericot verts shortage.

*yawns

*stretches

Listen I do fight the urge to cook everyday. It’s in my blood like poison.

Had to grab a few things we left behind at the old house and was disappointed that I didn’t get to say goodbye to my neighbors. Gave a solid salutation to their ring cam and left.

Petty?

Me?

Have we met?

I love N main and obviously the neighborhood is amazing. I won’t miss dodging everyone’s cars parked in the road at all times and the constant construction and restorations which meant squeezing in between dump trucks and landscaping trailers. N main isn’t as docile as it seems. You get all the transplants coming in and knocking down small plot homes to build 7000 sq ft houses with two inches of yard surrounding them. Hence the reason why cars are always parked in the road. You’re in a labyrinth of mud soaked sidewalks, large trucks beeping in reverse and run the risk of running over roofing nails.

Yeah I’m a little bit of an ass when I see this. I grew up poorer than most people so when I see things like this it jades me. It’s personal. I don’t like to think that way but there’s no reason why empty nesters need a 7000 sq ft home. Or anyone for that matter unless you’re 8 is enough.

Again

I’m jaded. We stacked 5 to 6 kids in a 1100 sq ft 2 bd 1 bath home when I was a kid.

Man the character development.

My headphones are on hemi-sync again. I feel like I’m some sort of bonsai tree sanctuary. It’s actually rather soothing. Pan flutes? Is that what I hear? Anyone remember the infomercial with Zamfir playing that instrument? Like a catalog of his greatest hits.

Who buys this?

Pair him up with Kenny G and Michael Bolton for a hell of a collab.

*pauses

*puts Zamfir on headphones

… Jesus

The coffee has given me a 3 second attention span

*moves to Isbell. I like Jason Isbell, love his song writing but I feel like he’s sort of an asshat in real life. I may be wrong.

Off track and random I have one song on my phone that I most likely downloaded from a playlist that I enjoy. Don’t know the name or artist. The only lyric I can recall is actually the quote of another older song lyric so when I google it the original song comes up. I’m frustrated that I can’t recall it but at the same time it’s sort of exciting to come across it by random selection so I can finally tie it together. Did I mention how dull my life is?

I love it

Gonna do some intermittent fasting this morning I don’t have anything for breakfast.

I was writing yesterday on about 4 cups of coffee and went into a ramble about the fascia acting like a car’s transmission. I had every intention of finishing it but upon reading the first few hundred words I realized I didn’t have the energy for it this morning. That one may take a minute. I was all over it yesterday ☕️

I’m wanting to take a stab at a fictional short story. Something tight and quick (that’s what she said). I’m thinking of posting on fb asking for an easy plot idea to challenge me. I’ve got some stories but I like the idea of improvising someone else’s suggestion for a challenge.

Short and sweet. Just to get my feet wet.

Short Sweet feet.

Ok

I’m caffeinated time to start my day.

Peace