I want more beauty in my life. My soul is in need of expansion. In the city, you can’t see many stars. The evening skyline is a sight to behold, but not a worthy substitute for God’s work above our heads. I need the sustenance of life’s ongoing mystery; the conduit to all things inspired and in-tune to what really matters, whatever that is. Within us all is a poet; a warrior; a being of oceanic strength, understanding, rhythm, and unique ability, extending from the same pulsating energy that flows through and becomes all things.

On the surface of who we are, however, there is the human mind… which is not unlike a wild animal for most, including myself. Without boundaries and discipline it runs aimlessly in the void, feeding on desires, material wants, sexual urges, addiction, illusion, and the ceaseless seeking of attention and approval from others. These animals run in large herds throughout much of America. New York is no exception… the only difference I notice is that the animals in this city tend to be awfully pretty sometimes.

I’m slowly learning how to gain control of mine. Some days we ride in the countryside, other days I’m being dragged down 2nd avenue by the stirrup.

On the plus side, it is certain that the human mind is also capable of remarkable things! Unlimited potential as far as I can tell. Everywhere I go, there is an equally profound abundance of intelligence, artistry, bravery, and accomplishment. These things strike me on a more spiritual level. It is subtler, but I see it just as clearly as the latter in my more lucid moments, which leads me to this question:

What has come of the great possibilities of our lives in this day and age?

A lucky (or wise) few of us have never lost sight of them and are in a state of realizing them. Some are in pursuit, but must occasionally put the dream aside to focus on survival. I get that. I’ve been there. Some bounce back and return to the dream. Others don’t. What really breaks my heart are the stories of men and women who enter into a mode of long-term survival, all the while believing that some day the dream will take precedence again, but somehow… the years pass… year after year… job after job… and eventually a deep state of work-induced denial sets in, until the day finally comes that it feels like the dream is gone.

I think others forgot or gave up on their potential early, out of hardship or a damaged sense of self-worth. Some aren’t even given the chance to dream, possibly due to bad parenting or lack of encouragement. When you’re a child, it’s not difficult to make those iron-clad agreements with false notions, especially when they come from the very people raising you. Luckily no one ever told the young Shakespeare he couldn’t write for shit, or Mozart that he had no musical talent.

In America, I think many go about trading in their full potential willingly, swayed by society’s image of happiness in a life that appears more secure; that big handsome American dream. The one that hands you a degree, puts you in a house with a big TV, affords a bi-annual vacation (at best), and pays for the next generation to accomplish the same thing. How are we to know any better? Part of me even finds that stability and comfort to be attractive, because I was drip-fed the same ideals growing up as everyone else. It just seems so normal and nice, doesn’t it? But then, in my own life experience I’ve come to understand that material possessions and status don’t have any correlation to happiness and fulfillment. They only contribute to a false sense of worth. It just looks good on TV.

Now what about your fire? What are you passionate about? If you have no loftier dream than to earn a degree, own a car and a house and a collection of nice things to put inside it, I congratulate you, so long as you are truly happy for it. I have nothing more to say to you. My only point in all of this is to address my concern for our brothers and sisters in this country (and beyond) who appear to live heartbreakingly complacent lives that border on miserable.

To quote Henry David Thoreau,

“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”

Too many, too young, too soon… alcohol use wouldn’t be nearly so problematic if we weren’t so ready to commit the majority of our lives to boredom. Money is no excuse.

THIS IS YOUR LIFE, AND IT IS ENDING ONE MINUTE AT A TIME.

The first rule of fight club is you don’t talk about fight club…

If we were to one day awaken from our half-frozen state and want back these great possibilities for ourselves — to re-open the valves to our true potential — who are we to ask for this, other than ourselves? And what about the time lost? Is it ever too late?

I don’t know.

Every day is an opportunity for change.

It is now summer time in New York City, and I am taking a leave of absence to be with the forest, by water, in simplicity, with books and tea, guitars, messy hair and a healthy regard for only the most basic needs. Grow a lush garden within my being and invite the muse over for dinner. She can even stay the night if she likes, and we’ll talk til dawn and catch the sunrise like old times.

I’m ready to work on my own mess. Send it out the door, pull back the blinds and let the view remind me what was always there and always is.

How beautiful.

Come around love. Come around spirit. Perfect needs not apply. Just give me what is, and I should breathe the air of possibility again. I’ll toss off my shoes in a fit and stomp around barefoot, kicking water and howling at the big dipper like I’m pissed at it for coming home so late without calling, but so relieved to see it again. Put a crack in my shell and let some light back out from this wiry mad man that is me! Meditate on the cliffs. Collect thoughts and firewood. Sing like it’s my job. Then remember that it actually is my job. Ultimately, get to know my life on a deeper level, like a song you’ve always enjoyed but never listened to all that closely, then one night you put on headphones and really listen… and times stops. The lyrics; the feeling; the energy; it all hits home, and everything you needed to hear was there, all along. Then you realize that it was always there, from the very first time you listened, and it wasn’t the beauty that was ever missing, but that you just weren’t paying close enough attention to hear it.