Good at Wandering

Cure What Ails ‘Ya

goodatwandering — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 03:01:14 +0000

Cure what ails ‘ya.

Signpost: the original intent

goodatwandering — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 02:59:42 +0000

Suddenly, at 5:30AM, it dawns on me that my strengths are singing and visual art. That software is just a fall-back that I’ve been riding on … for years.

Toltec Wisdom

goodatwandering — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 21:03:42 +0000

I’m going to a Toltec Wisdom class tonight. Should be interesting…don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty cynical–but I’m opening up to this. Frankly, I want to open up my mind, somehow, to things I’m not aware of. I’ve been reading Foucault’s Pendulum, about some publishers who start fooling around in the occult rituals of the crackpot writers who come in wanting their occult books published. The book is really inspiring me in the direction of opening up to that 90% of consciousness that I’m (we’re) ignoring.

Loneliness

goodatwandering — Fri, 28 May 2010 04:05:23 +0000

The theme of “wandering” has a tone of loneliness to it. Come on, I’m sure you’ve noticed it. There’s this dreamy solitude that at times slips into melancholy. - The producer of Good at Wandering

On the Estate

goodatwandering — Thu, 27 May 2010 03:52:12 +0000

I used to wander down the road from my parents’ house, as a teenager. I would always walk through the remaining estate farms to get to friends’ houses. Even late at night I would walk through the woods, singing to myself if I felt scared. On rainy days, I would don a heavy raincoat and my always-present backpack and head up into a beautiful stretch of hilly woods and pastures. I’d find a secluded tree to sit beneath and pull my hood down over my face and over whatever paper I was writing on. I’d sit for an hour or two, just listening to the rain, hoping for a dear to run past.

That reminds me. Not far from that rainy day spot was the field where I played nude tag with my lovely, lovely first true love. She was so beautiful and sensual and naughty. We played moonlight nude tag and I chased her around trees and throught the grass. I caught her hand kissed her and rolled on the ground with her. She was pure heaven to be with.

Wandering into the Therapist’s Office

goodatwandering — Wed, 26 May 2010 03:44:36 +0000

For twenty years, I’ve been seeing a therapist. Not the same one for twenty years–but it’s been consistent. It changed everything. I make sure to use a therapist that shares some of my values.

Wandering the dorms

goodatwandering — Mon, 24 May 2010 12:43:17 +0000

A bit more history here…
During college (which I started three years late because I was busy wandering around) I wandered around campus and through the dorms and visited whomever I found. This led to meeting a lot of people–if only superficially.

Summer vacation beginnings

goodatwandering — Sun, 23 May 2010 12:39:58 +0000

I think all of this wandering started during summer vacation from elementary school back in the seventies. It’s just a hunch. Episodes of Batman on the black & white tv at the foot of my bed and then mapping all of the secret hideouts in the neighborhood with my older brother-literally. We had a hand-drawn map of the neighborhood where we filled in all of the cool spots. Actually, he created this map with the help of his best friend. I would look at the map and then wander off and see how far away I could get in my imagination.

Anonymous Wanderer

goodatwandering — Sat, 22 May 2010 05:25:02 +0000

My wife would hate to know that I have this new found pride in being “good at wandering.” Of course, being a wife, she wants to hear me talk about stable things that will contribute to the financial well-being of our family. I understand and accept that. –So, if you figure out who I am, please, please don’t tell my wife. Thank you.

Re-reading Walden

goodatwandering — Fri, 21 May 2010 05:15:28 +0000

It occurred to me recently to start reading Thoreau’s Walden again. To get back on course. I’m nearly 40 now and life has had it’s way with my life, so to speak. A lovely wife and two adorable little children and a whole lot of responsibility…these have been the drivers of my choices in the past several years. When I cracked Walden the other day, I heard a message loud and clear: (paraphrasing) “My neighbors are all working very hard all day long without stopping to think about why. They do this because that is what they were taught to do. They have no other (good) reason.”

I want to mention here, I want to come clean, that I have a less-than-pure Walden Pond story I sometimes tell at parties: My good old friend, let’s call him “Boots”, had booked a hotel room in Cambridge at a nice establishment. It’s a high rise building with an enormous atrium. Outside of each room is a balcony on the indoor patio. We were many, many flights up and he was trying to seduce an old flame by having a drunken bash in luxury with some good friends. Well, suffice it to say that by the end of the evening (read 4am) the young woman had run to the elevator and he had thrown a wine glass at the closing door. As we settled to finally get some rest, Boots says to me “Crap, I ordered a stretch limousine to take her on a romantic drive to the airport in the morning. I can;t cancel the car–what should I do?” Well, my devious mind wasted no time, i said “let’s just drive around in the limo and drink all day.” Needless to say, he loved the idea. The next morning we drove around Boston in a snowstorm in a luxurious limousine–myself, Boots and a couple of girls. We stopped at a liquor store, picked up some several bottles of champagne and some smokes. We finally told the driver to take us (in a snowstorm mind you) all the way out to Walden Pond for a peak. None of us had ever been. It was a fun, fun drive. When we arrived, I stumbled out of the car to take a leak and get a view of the famed and sacred Pond where Thoreau spend a couple of years writing and opening up the possibilities for us all. I am ashamed to say that my first and only visit to Walden was this sordid and drunken bout but just the same I’m proud of the irony.