Red Foot Garden

It is another morning where I see 3am, but I’ve cheated a little bit. Since I came home from Denver tonight I went forward a couple of hours. Tonight I am tired, but for some reason I don’t feel like going to sleep. For some reason I feel like writing, and that is fine with me.

Returning home after being away for a long time (more than a day or two) is a fantastic thing, but it can be kind of tricky. Sometimes you are looking forward to home so much that when you finally get home it isn’t all that you have hoped. I must admit that I am very blessed to have it be a rarity that I am disappointed with my return.

Heather met me at the airport at just before 1am, and was happy to stay up with me for a bit while I settled down from the flight. The dogs were extremely happy to see me as well, and we all rolled around and huddled together for a while. It was a wonderful family/pack moment, and I haven’t felt that good in a long time.

We watched a Mountain Moods Blu-ray, and as my mind drifted I had what felt to be almost a religious experience. I wouldn’t say religious, because that word has been given a bad name. I had a spiritual moment where I felt connected with my mother, as though she were in the room with us. Heather remarked that her presence was a sign that she was happy I got home safe as well, and I had to agree.

While I will never truly get over the loss of my mother, I think that tonight I finally came to terms and reached acceptance. It has been a long and difficult struggle, but I can finally think of her without either breaking down or diverting my thoughts to avoid breaking down. I’m a momma’s boy through and through, and I’m happy to admit that.

The spiritual moment was a feeling of a concept of God, but it was my own concept of God that I actually felt comfortable with for perhaps the first time in my life. I think that whether you believe in God or not depends on how you define “God”. I define God as the responsible party for the creation of me and the world that I experience, but I’m not arrogant enough to be able to say that I know exactly what or who is responsible for my existence. I don’t think that I, or any other human could ever have the ability to see or comprehend the forces or beings that are responsible for our creation.

The nearest form of a “creator” that we have is our parents, and further along in time we have our ancestry to thank for paving the way to our existence. Extend that as far back as when I, or anything that I can identify with first came into existence, and is that “the” creator? What helped that creator come into existence? That must be considered the creator.

Humans, like all other animals, were created according to the laws of science. Throughout human history we have sought answers and have repeatedly found them through science and logic, to the best of our ever-expanding abilities. As the ability to produce, store, and share knowledge so quickly increases we answer more questions with logic, but there has always been an element of the unexplainable. There is always something “special”, that can be described as divine, and cannot, with our current intellectual limitations, be described scientifically.

These unexplainable twists in reality are what I consider to be manifestations of God, our creator, perhaps the sum total of all the souls of our ancestors throughout the history of existence. If that is true, and our souls will continue through to be grains of sand in the network of “God”, the way that we treat our souls is very important. While we all have varying concepts of what is right and what is wrong, most people are conscious enough to know wrong when they are doing it.

Following God is being yourself, doing what makes you feel good and comfortable, not fighting against your own inner voice of what is right and what is wrong. Do what you know to be right, and understand that sometimes nothing is right, and you only have to choose between things that are wrong. Also understand that sometimes conflicting things are right, it is a complicated world but it can be simplified!

That’s what I seek to do, simplify my life and the world around me. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

I might be delirious, or sleep deprived, or a good combination of both, but I feel good, and I haven’t in a while.

Good night.

*By the way, I’m publishing this at 4:26am, so if you read this before I edit my mistakes in logic and grammar, please comment. Thanks!

My body is restless, and this is nothing new at all.  I have always had a very anxious body, hardly ever allowing myself to rest properly.  I can remember being a very young child and wondering what everyone else thought about to help them fall asleep.  In third grade I remember thinking of songs to make fun of my “friends”, which kept me in a jolly mood even though I was struggling to fall asleep; I was a terrible child.  Later my fascination became the long grasses that grew by the kickball field.  I would literally try to focus my mind solely on the tall grasses blowing in the breeze.  If my mind wandered over toward the kickball field itself I would get angry.  Kickball is active, and thinking of action is counterproductive when sleep is the goal.  Of course, getting angry is probably far more counterproductive, but this is something that I’ve always felt was a bit beyond my control.

My father is notorious for having a short temper.  Whether it be nurture or nature, I share his ability to boil over at what others believe to be nothing.  Anger surges through me and I do everything that I can to contain it, but I can’t.  I remain angry.  Since I have been dealing with anger for my entire life and have seen and felt how it impacts others, I try not to allow the anger to be externalized.  Most people think that I am calm and quiet – if only they knew the chaos that existed within me.  One day there will be an explosion – Kaboom!