Would I Really Let You Break My Heart Again

We were at the beach the last time I saw the rabbi, or so I recall. We knew each other from blogging but not well and we had very different lives.

I have vague memories of hearing he moved back to New York but am not sure if it was after I left LA. We haven’t connected in years but I was sorry to hear he was killed this week.

It reminded me again of how life can turn on a dime and why some people said I should have taken my biopsy more seriously.

Maybe so, maybe not.

I think often about some of the questions in Did You Choose This Life Or Did It Choose You?

And again Bookends plays inside my mind while I think of the lyrics and some of the words I have shared surrounding it.

“Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, A time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; They’re all that’s left you”

followed by my words from the previous post

A good gardener is like that painter or sculptor too. They look at patches of dirt and understand that if they tend to their garden they can grow something beautiful there.

It may be dirt today but with some patience and some love you can turn weeds into flowers.

Finding A Rhythm

I don’t know about you but I like trying to find a rhythm to work, move and live to. I like finding it because I always feel like I am more productive when I tap into it.

It is part of why I like working out on a heavy bag so much. When you start throwing combinations and dancing in a circle around it you have to find a rhythm or you end up exhausting yourself earlier than you expect to.

Maybe I should have been born a drummer.

My best writing always feels like there is a rhythm to it as it flows from my fingertips.

That reminds me, I have always wanted to shoot lightning from my fingers or rockets. Not sure that I have a preference there but if I had to pick it would be the one that didn’t cause any issues going through airport security.

That would be kind of a bitch now wouldn’t it.

You can empty your pockets of metal and take off your belt/shoes but you can’t take your fingers off.

Ok, some people can do that but I am willing to bet the overwhelming majority of us don’t want to lose a hand(s) so we can gain a prosthetic device.

I’d be willing to look into using some sort of exoskeleton or Iron Man type suit, but not at the expense of my hands.

And even if you did give me some of those things I’d still have to deal with the damn TSA.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate having people look out for our security but there are moments where getting groped in the name of safety is less than exciting.

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Got Bruce singing Land of Hope and Dreams (Live in New York City) and am thinking about when Bruce was on Howard’s show and how both the live version and the interview move me.

I like both but the second really hits me because it reminds me of when my Dad was in hospice and I held his hand and told him he could let go.

Told him if he was ready to rest it was ok because I would look after mom and my sisters. It was the last thing he asked me to do.

I reminded him I am built for the storm and I know how to take a beating and keep going, reminded him I had learned a few tricks.

“Remember, Grandpa taught me to how to throw a punch while holding a roll of quarters and how to snap my elbow into a guy’s head after throwing a punch. I remember how you told me as long as I didn’t throw the first punch I wouldn’t get into trouble but I should make sure to throw the last one.”

If Dad were still here I’d remind him about that conversation and that 50 years later I still remember. I’d pause and wait to see what sort of response that would generate.

Would he tell me I am too old to say such things or would he ask if I remember anything important.

Sometimes I wonder if he would still recognize me because sometimes I feel like I have become someone very different than who I once was.

And then I wonder if it is because I am more myself than I ever was and that the events of the past however many years have shorn off parts that weren’t affixed to my permanent record.

Wonder if it is because I have reached the place of that tired cliche of not having any fucks left to give.

That could be it, I am who I am and you can love me or hate me. If you can’t take my intensity you are probably not going to stick around and that is ok too.

It reminds me of the trainer at the gym who asked if I had ever had my heart broken. I told him more than once and he asked if any of those who had done it would be allowed to get close again.

“Would I really let you break my heart again?”

I didn’t realize I said it out loud so when he asked me who I was talking to it took a moment for me to realize it was a question.

“I smiled and said someone I knew in a different life.”

I didn’t tell him about how sometimes I associate that with Desmond from Lost. Didn’t tell him about that scene from the episode of The Constant or how I know some things.

Someone threw me into the fire long ago and I learned how to dance.

The Pain Of October 8

I saw the October 8 movie today and relived things I had seen, read, experienced and or heard about. It was painful, sad, frustrating and infuriating.

Reminded me part of why I hit the gym and remember my grandfather teaching me about how a roll of quarters can put some extra pain into your punch feels important.

You can call it generational trauma, paranoia, clairvoyance or whatever you want. I don’t plan on having another fist fight, probably haven’t thrown a punch in anger since college but part of me feels like I ought to be prepared.

Part of me says it’s unlikely but we never expected to see a Russian asset in the White House so anything is possible.

I am sure Rabbi Fink didn’t expect to die yesterday as I am sure there are so many others who can talk about things they didn’t expect to have happen.

Reminds me to be grateful about my pathology report and to have the opportunity to ask questions like the title of this post because it means that I am still vertical and part of Mr. Toad’s wild ride and that is worth celebrating even during the moments where it feels like the world is upside down.

We still have time and we still have opportunity and that is worth endless amounts of gratitude.