Oh, Good Morning! I Didn't See You There!

        I accidentally clicked "New Post" -- so now I feel obligated.  Good Morning peep-o!
Lot's of thoughts running through my groggy noggin... cup'o-joe before me; is coffee killing me? A slow poisoning? I bet the sugar inside it is. It's raw, unrefined sugar -- but still. That's one for the "No More" List.  Like: No more coffee, no more pizza, no more carb binges -- No more cheese, never anything fried! No more video-games unless I've worked-out for 30 minutes to an hour.  (I need to, minimally, do some cardio; to get that heart beat up past 120 for 20 minutes -- ) -- Which leads me to think about my stomach problems -- you see,  I swallowed a small piece of plastic -- (like the corner of a scissors-opened battery package) which necessitated one emergency room surgery to remove it (along with 9 inches of small intestine) -- and three more surgeries (so far) to repair the resulting  incisional hernias. (Deep sigh.)  I was actually working-out with a trainer before this happened. All shot to hell. My core! From whence all strength emanates!  Then there's that "stupid" poem I did yesterday about the vet, Edith Klien that killed her pets and herself -- -- which,  however much it sucks -- (I think it's rather cute, clever/sad  actually) deserves to be completed -- I thought it had been,  but started tweaking -- and well, now it isn't. And it's  posted.. (Sucks being a (semi-) pefrectionist!) (Ha!) [UPDATE: I officially "called" McFluff Gets Whacked on Feb.17th 11:45 P.M. Finished! (Upper-mediocre, at-best.) UPDATE 2: Gawd! I read the damned thing again -- and changed it one more time I think I "got" it ! 2/23]  I am also wondering when the money from my Dad's estate will arrive. He died in 2010 with a will and only 2 beneficiaries; nobody contesting anything. What took so long? Well, that's a loaded question... Dad thought he would acknowledge his niece by making her "person of responsibility" (She had been a para-legal -- but more importantly has three beautiful children and he wanted her to know how much he valued them and her, for having them; genetic continuity and all.) He owned two homes, one in Connecticut and one in Orlando, FL --  so legal residency, first needed to be established... That took a year (?!?!) Then the condo in CT needed to be sold. (Another year?!?!) Around $20,000 dollars has been paid-out in legal fees -- because, evidently, it's true and some lawyers are crooks. (Duh.) On January 25th everything was finally "completed" legally, in court. all that is supposedly left is dispensing the money that has been "sitting" in an Estate account for over 2 years... and there really isn't much of it.  There won't even be enough to buy a car -- (though the frickin' attorney could!)  It will help me move.  In 2008 he tallied up his net-worth and it came to $800,000 Post-recession and legal costs; my sister and I will split approx. 1/11 of that amount. Something is "off." Ahh,  hell with it -- not worth worrying about. (only money.)  More importantly, both dog's need baths -- (I need  to feed the fish,  shower and get my bottom out of the house and improving small businesses' bottom line. )
        [Update: I had a paragraph here on my excitement about it being a comic day and what I was particularly looking forward to -- but decided to save it for a later blog. Don't know why really -- I think it has to do with mixing the tone too drastically and not wanting to sabotage my readership so early in my blogging life-cycle by appearing anymore immature (and scatterbrained) than I already do.]
       Alright! Piss-Yorkie scrubbed -- look-out Schnauzer! Let me touch-up that poem a little first...
       I don't know... wife or no wife -- life can be good!


UPDATE #3 (12/2/13) : Lord! What a pointless and mind-numbing Mid-Life Metanoia entry. It did however, cause me to edit the poem yet again. And rubbed in my face that I just ate pizza (with extra cheese) and still don't work out and that I am fatter than ever. Also reminded me how much I miss Cain (The piss-yorkie) and how I will never get over my anger at how the estate was handled. All things I will eventually address in the ongoing entries. (except the estate as that's just to annoying and counter productive to contend with... but you never know.)

Mid-Life Metanoia :A Journey Begins

  

     In Carl Jung's psychology, metanoia indicates a spontaneous attempt of the psyche to heal itself of unbearable conflict by melting down and then being reborn in a more adaptive form... Jung's concept of metanoia influenced R. D. Laing and the therapeutic community movement which aimed, ideally, to support people whilst they broke down and went through spontaneous healing, rather than thwarting such efforts at self-repair by strengthening their existing character defenses and thereby maintaining the underlying conflict.     Metanoia: Wikipedia Article   

     Metanoia -- yeah.

     I don't mean to sound pretentious -- it fits. 

     There are psychological, theological and rhetorical uses of the word -- they all fit.  

     There comes a stage in one's life,  in my life,  where "pretense" is about as productive as swallowing a WMD.

     Blinding flash! Truest desires, needs and capabilities -- dissolve. 

    Recently, and to my shame, it came to, glaring, light that I failed miserably. Not all at once,  but over an extended period. (That's where the shame comes in.)  And no, not for anything I did, it's more about what I failed to do. 

     With my failure I lost my only friend. I am terrestrially (and terribly) alone. (But more on that later...I can't start feeling sorry for myself; it is too destructive, too easy, and is counter to everything I want to accomplish with your help. You deserve better -- I deserve better. )

     So what I need for now is Metanoia : correction, repentance, healing -- CHANGE.

     I don't want this blog to be a confessional... it would bore you to death. (I'm probably already succeeding on that level.) 

     I want it to be about virtue, truth and self-discovery; about courage, strength and rising to accept and embrace my destiny. (Is it pretentious to believe I have a destiny?) 

     Do not despair -- I certainly have plenty of "tawdry" tales to share -- both wild and true. many of which, I suppose will eventually  make their way here. 

     In these pages, on these screens -- I will reach out to you as a voice calling from the deepest, darkest woods -- that is, after-all, just where I am; lost and alone. 

     Fearful... yes.; but faithful too -- 

     Someone very special  is listening (reading) and drawing closer with each new shout.   

     I will discuss LOVE -- in all it's agonizing, glorious, eternal and fleeting manifestations -- and right-here/  right-now I vow to never fear Love's grand embrace, though Her joyous soul-grip must inevitably drop away.

   (She said to me: "I love you, I'm just not 'in love' with you anymore." To which I replied: "What are you, fifteen?")  

     Here, I shall chart my journey from sick and bloated, cynical, man-child; one long-separated from productive societal interaction; to fit and functional citizen of the world -- a man as great as my God intended for me to be.  

     I may even find a friend or two in the process.  (Wow -- that sounds exhausting and exhilarating in equal measure. )          

     The one Truth I know so far: I can't accomplish this journey (my Metanoia) alone.       

     I am counting on you faithful reader/friend (?) to call me to task for my failings (especially those beyond  my limited sphere of perception) as well as laud me for my triumphs as this will be my fuel to carry me onward and upward -- eventually to the stars. 

     In turn, I will try my best to be there for you. 

     Laugh and cry with me -- travel with me, grow with me -- change with me.   

     

     For the greatest Truth is, indeed, beyond perception.