Intention

Lately I’ve become more aware of the word, Intention. Actually, I owe this awareness to Galen Fous, author of, “Decoding Your Kink”, and a blog post he wrote about 7 years ago (found here). 

He explains how important having an intention is, and how he uses this intention in life, not just kink. Fous writes…

“Intention is a very important tool. I view it as rock solid truth. It is my anchor I come back to when I get blown off course. I know it is true…because I created it from an aware place.”

And he writes…

“Intention allows one to build personally designed practices or rituals that support your intention and diminish what resists your intention.”

Hmmmm. Worth looking into this I think.

I started consulting the ethereal Oz (google) for more on this whole concept. One that I feel like I have ignored my whole life. Started running into life hacks and life coaches giving these hacks… meh!

But I do like this idea of forming an intention. Something I can call on every day.

 

Undeniably Aging

A little over ten years ago I quit drinking and started taking care of myself. The result of all of this, the process, was like being reborn in a way that’s hard for me to describe.  And yet I’ll try.

All the various filters or lenses that allow one to take in the world, the five senses (six really), eventually are flushed and cleared of all the accumulated toxicity. For me it was decades worth. The results felt like going back in time to that version of myself that didn’t need a cocktail or sketchy food to deal with the world. 

Maybe rebirth would be stretching things a bit. Not necessarily a new babe, or the young boy, but most definitely the teenager.

So in my middle forties I felt young again. I was moving and active and intensely determined to blow right past all of those road signs of life which were telling me, ‘Aging Rest Stop Ahead’. Not for me!

But this last year I’ve been, at times, made painfully aware that I need to pull over more often. My still sober (clear and clean) 50’s body isn’t same as the 40’s model.

I was a pretty good athlete in my younger days. I could play just about anything reasonably well. Certain things I was very good at and I suppose tennis was one of those things. About five years ago I started playing again on a regular basis. In the last year I’ve started suffering from little muscle and tendon “nicks”. Waking up to aches and pains the day after playing has somehow become normal. 

Fuuuuuuuuuck!

So I’ve started stretching every morning. It feels like my last line of defense. That’s what I see it as but, I’m pretty sure, that’s not what an enlightened being would think.

Age, sickness, and death… undeniable. 

Writing Down The Bones…

Just before COVID I took a writing class at a local Zen Center. The teacher’s name is Susan Moon, who I believe is from the Bay Area. She recommended a book, "Writing Down The Bones” by Natalie Goldberg. I’m struggling at the moment to do this…to just write. Do I still want to examine the bones?

In another life I was a poet. I was younger, obviously, confused, angry at myself, and,  well… really fucked up. Writing was screaming out into the void. Now it's the ether... 

In that life I made many bad decisions; chose a terrible partner (and if I’m honest, so did she). The long sad ordeal ended up ruining me financially. There was nothing profound about it. Who wanted to read about it? Ten years gone.

I got divorced. I tried numbing my mind and body with alcohol, and various intoxicants. Driving hard in a race to oblivion.

I reached my bottom before total destruction. I got sober. I found another partner. She saved my life. I found great sex. I found Zen Buddhism and I found gratitude.

How do I write about this life?