Preparing

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In preparation for the "boat ride", as I joke with my jocular self sometimes(I like to refer to my trip as a boat ride because I am so jocose), hold on - my white silk scarf is caressing my bare neck and I have to swizzle the ice in my scotch - now that's better the ice cubes aren't standing atop one another anymore. This trip is about what I learn in my life in this period of discovery. I remember things better if I write them. Hence, this blog. Some of the things I write about you may have learned, some you may not have, but please let me know what your thoughts, feelings, or blood curdling reactions are to what I have to say and when I get back we can duke it out or have a drink about it or both.
Now as I was saying, I'm preparing to get on this metaphorical boat (think of the one in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) and I'm in Georgetown. The magnanimous Gilfilan Branch of my family generously donated their spare apartment to me because my lease was up in my old place, so Ricky and Carmen if you're reading much respect and props. Two nights ago, I pulled up outside their townhouse and Carmen, my Mom's cousin (my mom who by way is generous enough to loan me her van (So Ma if your reading much respect and props to you as well)) told me everything had to come inside. She said, "if you leave anything worth taking in the car it will be taken". I didn't feel like learning my first lesson the hard way so, even though it was late and cold and the drizzle drizzled just enough for muck to clump and stick to my shoes, we began our late night travail at 11.30. I opened the sliding door of the van, Carmen grabbed some speakers, a lamp, a desk chair and a box of free weights, I caught a handful of empty hangers, and we went inside...I walked into an underground palace; Bob you should have seen this place! The floors gleamed white, a gorgeous green corduroy covered futon called out to me, I discovered the shower had two shower heads (no more of that getting one side wet while the other side freezes for me!), there were fresh sheets on the bed, and to top it all off, a nice little desk with a sewing machine on it. I was in heaven.
12pm rolls around and I say good night to Carmen thank her for moving all my stuff in and I find myself all alone. I was all moved into this underground palatial hideaway and I realized how much muck I tracked in. I removed my shoes, put my keys down on a hunk of wood, and cleaned up (don't worry Carmen the dirt came out of the living room carpet). The hunk of wood I put my keys on turned out to be part of a freakin' piano! I was so excited about the piano that I just started dabbling away, my excitement was short lived however. I was playing one of my jazz numbers (an unmellifluous impromptu barrage of notes "strung together" merely by the fact they are being played at the same time) and I tried to play happy music. But I was unable; the second lesson struck me as I went from a white key to a dark one and it sounded o so bad. I found that it's hard to be happy when you don't know what you're doing.
That second lesson is something that I have struggled with for a while now. I realized that I don't really know what I'm doing I don't have a plan and I need one. What I realized at the piano in GTown is really the impetus for this trip. I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with my life (because c'mon now i'm 25 and we all have but one destiny and it's time to get going on that). I couldn't lie to myself any longer in contenting myself with a 9-5 corporate gig: Corporate Property Tax didn't work for me. So I'm gonna try something else. Hell why not construction in Australia.
In the long run I don't know what I'm going to do but I'm not going to sit around and wait for the answer to hit me. Because plenty of idears (that's Rhode Island for idea) have hit me. Like forming an Watchdog NGO that keeps tabs on the Military Industrial Complex's (MIC) spending and their role in generating US Foreign Policy. Bob you didn't answer my email on this subject. Or Starting CRESI - Custom Residential Electronic Systems Integration. Basically creating smart houses where servers connect all the electronics in a house- tv, lights, temperature, ovens, entertainment ctr. etc. Bob didn't like that idea either.
But I found a problem with both of these idears: on a very fundamental level I felt myself committing to an idear. In other words, I didn't "feel" anything while making a commitment to an abstract concept. Take for example the MIC, it's a cause worth fighting for sure. I now pay higher prices for gas, my friends suffer from PTSD upon returning from the war, and profiteering has run rampant since the invasion of Afghanistan but that's not enough for me. I'm trying not to sound spoiled here but I can't delude myself into thinking what I'm about to say isn't: i want someone else to take up the cause. I mean yeah I think the Government is wrong in awarding no-bid contracts, extending the political reach of the executive branch through coercion, and withholding services desperate people need but I want someone else to fight for it. Is that a bad thing? Does that mean I'm not a good enough person? On a scale of 1-10 1 being Jeffrey Dahmer 10 being Mother Theresa, would I be like a 7? If it is that sucks because for me, living a cerebral existence is not sustainable. I need more. I need to feel it in my guts, my bones, my heart.
In my second business venture that arrived DOA, CRESI, I thought about starting a company that made me money. And I call the pursuit of money a commitment to an idear because money entails so much - security, freedom, status, bling, "friends", wicked hot golddiggers. Again an existence, if I were to chose it, would satiate only one part of me, a part of my mind - the one that deals with anxieties born of having no money. But wow I'm judging choices before I even made them (we're getting into the subjunctive here).
But a very wise person once told me that when you are truly honest your head your heart and your guts are all in agreement. When they agree, it's a big synergistic explosion of energy that multiplies in and of itself and it sustains you. (So I made the second part up and it sounds more like a reaction to heroin but it makes sense and I've felt it (the energy of agreement not heroin that is)).
It was very strange but I felt it at a swim meet. I was volunteering at my sister's meet and I really felt connected with myself, my family, with others in the community (the universal consciousness perhaps??) because I was willing to give. Being a tax consultant you deal with deadlines and during a wicked busy time I took the time from work in NOVA to drive to NC and spend valuable time with my family at a swim meet. I don't want to sound like bleeding Mother Theresa here (maybe I'm an 8) because I don't volunteer that often but it felt good: an energy surge ensued.
With that said, I'm leaving because I don't know what I'm going to do with this gift called life. Make other people happy, make myself happy, make myself happy before I make others happy. Is it alright if we are all not happy? Is life an endless pursuit of happiness? Happiness being emotional and financial security. My plan is to think and write about these and some major questions while I have some time. But of course my plan will change for after all when preparing for battle plans are useless but planning is indispensable (Eisenhower said that).
Sitting here before take the first step of my journey, I hear my dear friend Bob's voice in my head- Bob is a 65 year old cancer survivor, BA, MBA, PhD, JD, mentor, and all round bad ass who I have come to admire & love who once said- REMEMBER THE CHARIOTEER. The charioteer who travels across the desert toward his star pulled by two horses. One horse white pulling towards the good and the other black as night pulling towards darkness. It's my responsibility to reign in the horses and check the horizon from time to time. Checking to make sure I'm heading for my star.
Bob my star is shrouded by a mist now but I can feel the night sky clearing.

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Photos

The Capital
The Capital and my Meanderings at Night

Kites on the Mall
Orla and Jeff breaking on to the National Mall. Sorry Orla no Nordstrom's here!

The Charioteer
Trying to keep the horses pulling in a straight line.