Ramblings

It amazes me how much you can love a place and hate it at the same time. Qtown. Quemado. My home, my love, and every consternation I put upon myself. I realize though, now that I’ve suffered my pain and opened my eyes, that I was trying to go back there for the wrong reasons. Some things don’t change and neither do people, to have the expectation that they well is only a set up for an inevitable failure.

I hated Qtown for the wrong reasons too. You can’t expect acceptance from ingrained ideologies, you cannot demand change nor force it without yourself becoming a tyrant. You cannot convince others no matter how much you believe a thing either. But you can let go and move on.

I don’t want to pour over the distant past, I’ve done that and done that, millions of words that turned in circles without the benefit of any conclusions. I go back to them sometimes, back to those handwritten pages of beauty and torment. They are the remnants of younger days from a young man who surprisingly suffered from the same problems as he does in his present. It sets the precedence to do things differently.

I told a friend once that knowledge was sorrow. What I should have said was that self-knowledge, self realization, is by far worse. It's taken me so long to except charge. I’ve so wanted to be a different person, to have the courage to become the man I need to be. Maybe I just wasn’t ready, maybe I needed to spend all that time in the dark, coming close to oblivion, to open my eyes and feel the sun on my face.

Now, in the time of our reckoning, I wonder if it was soon enough. I feel the changes coming to our people. I’ve barely scratched the surface of comprehending the immensity of those changes. I know though, that I will have to be strong. I know that I will have to be the leader I’ve feared of becoming.

The old paradigms are falling apart. No matter how much they try to keep the current perceptions together they are crumbling to pieces as the new shift in awareness and thinking takes hold. I don’t need to go into specifics, the truth is all around and if one cannot see it, it’s because they choose not to. Those who do not prepare (most of everybody, including me) will suffer; change can be a brutal thing if you let it be.

Simply doing things differently can be brutal, but in truth by looking at a thing from a different angle isn’t all that bad. You might see a whole new world.

Why Guns and Gardening

Guns, not long ago, were an integral part of my life, albeit a disappointing one. I think Gardening is filling that void. Guns will always be a part of my life; I will always have one regardless of the consequences if the future chooses to impede certain freedoms.

Why was the gun a disappointment? As a child and through my adolescence I always thought I would be a warrior. Unfortunately, when I went on that path I realized a warrior has to have something to believe in. I met great friends along the way, friendships that will never be broken. I learned amazing skills, it propelled me to where I am now, but I don’t put any stock into ideologies. Call a spade a spade, if you sugarcoat shit it’s still going to taste like a butthole. I will always be a warrior, but only for the things I truly believe in, I’ve come to find that even the truth can be compromised. Nothing in life should be blindly followed, if so then you deserve your fate.

And now the Garden. If I could be anywhere right now it would be there. It allots me a since of peace I haven’t known since I was taking pictures, short the adventures though.

I planted on the full moon last week. I already have sprouts.

My Garden...

I love my garden. I really do. Not a lot of things I can honestly say that I love outside of my wife and children, and family too. Since that first shovel full of hard earth it has provided me with both challenge and fulfillment, but most of all a bit of hope and distraction.

It is so simple yet so wondrous, it is life, it is abundance, and it is beautiful. It is how I start and finish my day. I go out in the mornings and stare at the earth, looking for new sprouts, I count tomatoes growing on the vines, I study the blossoms, I talk to the trees, I cuss the ants whom circumvent every attempt I’ve made to destroy them.

I’ve put a lot of hours into that little garden plot, but unlike most of my pervious undertakings it’s been a venture I’ve thoroughly enjoyed. It’s lost the label of project and is quickly becoming a lifestyle. I started it almost haphazardly, not as a hobby or for enjoyment, I first approached it as a skill I thought I would have to soon acquire. As my interest grew my garden has grown, I have grown with it. Maybe I have reached a turning in my life, maybe my viewpoints are becoming a little more realistic, but I’ve notice since I started the garden less than a year ago, my perspectives, habits, and mindset are changing. Things that were once unconditional are finding conditions, and I welcome it. I need change.

Intro

I hate intros