Shallow Dirk?

I sit here, staring blankly out the window of the coffee shop, trying to think of something to write.  Unfortunately, my life has become so routine that nothing all that exciting happens to me.  My big thrill is sneaking glances at whatever attractive young lady enters my periphery.  I think this is the point in life at which many men move from looking, to flirting, to fucking.  I can clearly see how we are setup for this tragedy by a media that uses sex appeal to sell everything from breath mints to kitchen utensils; the increasingly revealing nature of woman's clothing and man's primal instinct to sow his seed.  Oh, and did I mention our huge friggin ego's that need to feel like we are still able to "get the girl". Thankfully, I am incredibly fortunate in that  I recognize the temporal  nature of any affair is vastly outweighed by the everlasting damage it will do to me and my family. But damn, that is one nice ass...

Living the life

Apparently, someone in the neighborhood decided to get chickens and was unaware that most chickens no longer require a rooster.  Unfortunately their cantankerous cock must be from a different time zone as this morning he started crowing incessantly at 3:00 . I was unable to get back to sleep until I finally put in some ear plugs.

This weekend I cleaned the gutters, visited with my wife's sister and moronic, bigoted, homophobic, redneck husband, went fishing with J and cleaned my tool bench.  I seemed to have evolved into this somewhat responsible, moderately happy, reasonably productive member of society.  I live a satisfying life and have avoided any major bouts of depression in recent years.  My family is well, work is acceptable and I spend a fair amount of time helping others to find their way to a similar existence.  I guess I should be grateful for all this bliss... right?

Youthful indiscretions

Today I am sitting in a different coffee shop then my usual.  The java is excellent and they make an awesome egg wrap.  Steely Dan is playing softly in the background causing my mind is wander back thirty years ago to the back seat of a 66 Chevy Caprice on which I was passionately undressing my girlfriend of the time, Sharon.  I was rather inexperienced with girls at the time, which made it that much more exciting as we fumbled with buttons and struggled with zippers, flailing about the back seat with all the passion you would expect of two teenagers.  It was mid-winter and the windows were all fogged up as a result of our heated entanglement.  We were getting close to the end game when suddenly there was a tap, tap, tap on the side window.  Our clothing was scattered all over the car and as we scrambled to get dressed a booming voice said, "Open the door NOW!".  Tentatively I grasped the handle pulling it up and I pushed open the door just a crack.  I could barely make out the blue uniform of a police officer standing there with a large flashlight in his hand shining brightly in my face.  "Yes sir..." I said in a faint voice.  "Get your clothes on and exit the vehicle" he replied.  Once we were outside he checked our ID's and lectured us on the virtues of sex before marriage.  Yeah... I listened real well.  Right up until we found a better place to park.

Rewire the brain

It is a strikingly beautiful day in the town square this morning.  I am sitting in one of the new comfy chairs at the newly remodeled coffee shop enjoying a tasty mocha latte.  Life is good at this moment...

The other day someone asked me "what is your passion" and surprisingly, I did not have a good answer.  The question was posed when I was at the adolescent home cutting down trees and cleaning up the property with sixty or so volunteers.  If someone had asked me that question elsewhere, I would have immediately replied "I enjoy working with the kids at the adolescent home".  It was a staff member that asked me the question so I can only speculate that I was somehow uncomfortable saying something akin to "my passion is doing your job".  

But that event has caused me to think deeply about my interests and motivations.  I spend most of my free time trying to help others in some way, but now I wonder why I do that.  Saturday morning I had coffee with a young man that I have been mentoring and invited him over to have brunch with our family on Sunday.  He and his two young daughters (ages one and three) joined us but his wife had to work.  As the morning progressed I began to see that I really am not a social creature, as much as I would like to be.  At times I felt awkward and uncomfortable, unable to see the purpose in general conversation.  I am much more comfortable in the role of the 'father figure", not a friend.  More then likely I have some synapses mis-wired that cause this malfunction.  Perhaps I can rewire them...  Anyone have a spare soldering iron?

I am drained

This has been a long week and I will likely have to work tomorrow to make up for hours I missed.  I am tired, both physically and mentally and am unsure how I will get through the next few days of work.

Tuesday, my sister and I met with her therapists for a more emotional session then I had anticipated.  I expected the discussion to center around a treatment plan, but within the first few minutes of the meeting we got right into the heart of R's illness; which is the trauma she experienced as a child.  I have never thoughtfully considered her trauma in any granular detail, but my head was yanked out of the sand abruptly as I saw R for the victim that she is.  I have lived my life aware of the horror that she experienced, but I can now see that I never really moved past the denial phase and somehow I had always felt, at least subconsciously, that maybe it had never really happened.  I have talked to her every day since our meeting and she is doing surprisingly well.  Usually she regresses when she attempts to peel away the emotional scarring. 

So what does this mean in terms of my relationship with my father?  I think that somehow I have compartmentalized who he is and what he has done so that I could have a father and he could have a son.  Now, I feel like I am betraying my sister when I think about my relationship with him.  If there is a loving, caring God, he would explain to me how I can be a good brother and a good son within the constraints of this horrific situation and he would do it soon, because father's day is just around the corner and I just don't think I can be there for him.

Live of a giver

Hello, my name is Dirk, and I am a giver...  Lately, my choice to be kind and giving has created more opportunities to help others then I can really manage.  I am happy to be living in a way that makes me feel good about myself, but I am also having to learn how to cope with an intense level of stress resulting from my many commitments.  Today  I have to go down to MA to meet with R's therapists to see what I can do to help her recover from her decade long depression.  Wednesday and Thursday I have to find time  to coordinate a couple of volunteer groups at the adolescent home, Thursday I take J to his therapist, Friday I will likely take out one of the boys from the adolescent home and this weekend I have to find some time for my family and household chores.  While all this benevolent activity is time consuming it beats wasting away in Clickerville.

Church?

The past few days I have experienced stress-inducing deviations in my routine; indications of the OCD that lurks just below the surface of my seemingly "normal" persona.  Yesterday I went out for a run at lunchtime, planning to run my regular six mile loop around a beautiful  island, only to encounter a closed bridge within the first 500 feet.  I was quite annoyed at the obstruction but I turned around and ran half my loop counter-clockwise, which felt very uncomfortable; although I did enjoy the completely new view of the island from a fresh perspective.  Today I am sitting at another coffee shop in the town square as my favorite java stop is currently being renovated and has been closed all week.  Fortunately the latte's here are good and the atmosphere is pleasant;  I do miss the morning crowd at the other coffee shop though...

The past two Thursdays I have attended a workshop called Alpha which is described as "... an opportunity to explore the meaning of life in a relaxed, friendly setting."   It is about introducing people to Jesus Christ and the Christian faith.  I am not a practicing Christian, (although I live my life generally according to Jesus' teachings except for the "only through Him" thingy) but a very good friend of mine is a pastor at the church sponsoring this course and I am attending largely to appease him, but also to meet new people and discuss issues important to all of us such as "exploring the meaning of life".  The attendance has been a bit sparse but I am enjoying the meetings so far.  Last night I pointed out to the group that if one of us was invited to a meeting where the discussion centered around life, family, friends, community and the pursuit of all that was good, we would be inclined to attend.  However, if we were also told that you must believe that Jesus died for your sins, and that the only path to God is through him, we would be less interested.  It seems to me that we are divided by semantics created by churches attempting to fill their pews. I find  it hard to believe that a loving God would turn me away because I didn't read, and or believe the fine print.