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The first month of the year is halfway done. That leaves just 11.5 to go. Do you know where your destiny is?

You are my destiny. You are my future. You are everything that I need and want. You are the key to unlocking my full, unfulfilled potential.

Or not. We’ll never know, though, if our paths are meant to cross unless we get a move on it. The first month of the year is halfway done. Do you know where your destiny is?

Chances are it’s right where you are. No fairy tale for you, my friend. No easy way out. No fast path. The first month of the year is halfway done, and whatever you’ve done in that time is precisely what you intended to do in that time.

Moral of the story: your destiny is created ever day when you wake up. What are you going to do with the next 11.5? The possibilities are nearly endless.

“Deadline”Cycle of seasonsEbbing, flowing of the tidesGreen leaves turn to brownTicking of the clockCountdown to zero hourProcrastinationDeadline, I loathe theeThere is nothing naturalIn your arrivalNature knows her waySo gentle is her processOurs is so abruptOf course, without youSo many things unfinishedDeadline, I need you!

My wife gauges my level of happiness by the twinkle in my eye. I love how she giggles with excitement when she sees it; I hate when she points out it’s absence. Either way, there exists a state of mind which manifests itself physically. We feel it inside, but they see it outside. And they see it clearly.

So, do you still think you can fake it? Anyone who cares enough to look carefully will see the truth…even if you don’t know the truth yourself.

Be mindful of the twinkle. It will almost always give you away.

Boy, that movie sucked. I’d always wanted to see it, too. Jack Nicholson, Glenn Close, Natalie Portman, Michael J. Fox, Martin Short, Annette Benning, Pierce Brosnan…the cast is seriously impressive. The premise us great, too: first contact with an alien civilization goes horribly wrong, and we have to figure out if we made some cultural blunder that caused the whole fiasco. And Tim Burton directed! Comedy, action, science fiction, cast, director, social commentary, and a musical number with the legendary Tom Jones! What else could you want?

How about a not-crappy movie?

On paper, it probably looked great. Sort of like a lot of our ideas in life. And just like a lot of our ideas in life, going from theory to practice…yeah, didn’t really work out so much. Sometimes, no amount of planning can prepare you for or save you from poor execution. That’s the moral of the story. Actually, not really.

Do you know what? That movie was made in 1996. Nicholson has been nominated for two Oscars since then. He won one of them. Glenn Close has made about 18 other films since then, worked extensively in television, and won several awards including an Emmy for her current show, Damages. Natalie Portman? Say what you will about them, but she carried the three Star Wars prequels. There’s Oscar buzz surrounding her latest performance in Black Swan. Pierce Brosnan was James Bond. James-freaking-Bond. Tim Burton has directed seven films since then. I could go on. And that’s sort of the point: everyone went on. With Mars Attacks, they took a chance, they made a movie, they moved on.

Few of us fail so publicly and so spectacularly as an actor or director in a Hollywood dud. Most of them just keep going on, keep working. What choice do they have, really? They love movies. They keep making them. They love telling stories. They keep telling them. They love bringing characters to life. They keep acting. It’s that simple.

How about you? Are you going to quit when you fall on your face? Or do you love your art enough to keep moving on?

I don’t ride horses. Most people I know don’t either. Somehow, though, the image of someone falling off a horse or getting bucked only to turn around and get right back on…somehow that image is one to which most can relate.

Don’t give up. Most of the time, we give up because we’re afraid. Yes, falling off a horse can be dangerous, even deadly. However, most of us aren’t getting thrown from horses. Most of us just run the risk of being wrong or looking stupid. Not much risk in that.

So…the saddle: get back in it. I’m getting back in mine…

Basements make for good analogies, and we all know that I like analogies.

A basement is naturally a dark place. You can do things with artificial lighting to fight the darkness, but a basement is still an inherently dark place. It is a place where things go to hide. Or to die.

There is a basement in all of us, a place where we store and horde and hide. More often than not, the physical basement becomes a manifestation of the metaphysical basement. All the things that our psyches cannot release find their way downstairs, below ground. The space beneath our houses becomes a dwelling place for many of the things that have no business in our lives, let alone our homes.

I know this isn’t always the case; I’ve seen plenty of finished basements that rival any other floor in a particular home. Go with me, though; I’m running after a metaphor here.

And this is where I am headed: basements, inside or outside of us, are by default dark places. It is easy to hide away in them. It is easy to horde. It is easy to allow clutter to take over. If in Feng Shui clutter under a bed is bad, imagine the influence that a whole basement full of trapped energy can have. It can’t be good, of course.

I used to fancy myself a basement philosopher. I thought that sounded catchy. I thought it was “cute,” if you will. I recognize now that the label is symptomatic of the maelstrom of things which are better released than hidden away. A basement philosopher, after all, is hidden away in darkness. That is no place for to live and learn…and thrive.

So, I bid that basement under the house by the lake farewell. I bid that house itself farewell. Better, I think, to philosophize in the light. No use hiding. There is far more to be gained by living out in the open.

Over a decade ago, a friend of mine used to say that you have to keep getting emotionally healthier as you get older.  He meant it as advice for learning how to cope with life’s difficulties…the complexities of creating an increasingly hectic, modern life.  Something to do with escalating job commitments and kids and getting tired of being married to the same person for all those years…that kind of thing.  It was good advice.

Today is December 1, 2010, and I find myself having to call upon all the powers of “healthier” that I’ve managed to accumulate over the years.  There’s lots to accomplish in a very compressed time, and the desire to crawl into a dark space and let the overwhelmingness overwhelm me is quite…overwhelming.

Of course, I can’t exactly do that.  I’ve passed that moment when the critical mass of a situation gets so great that the only choice is action.  As is customary in my personal life, I’ve managed to procrastinate to the point that I’m not verging on a low-grade yet still hysterical nervous breakdown.  Hyperbole, for sure, but you get the point: no choice but to move now.  And I have to move quickly.

Sounds like a bummer, no?  Well, I could complain, but that won’t make any of the moving parts move faster.  Complaining also won’t cause all my self-inflicted troubles to go away.  No, the only real option is to focus…focus and buckle down, as they say.  There is work to do, there is a short period in which to do it, and there are people relying on me to do.  So, I will do.

Hello, December.  Looks like we’ll be heading full steam into the finish line.  I just hope there’s something left when it’s all said and done!

Thank you, most benevolent and generous Universe, for providing me with precisely that which I need most.

Thank you for not listening to me when I ask for what I want and instead giving me what I deserve.

Thank you for ignoring me when I wish for material things and granting me the spiritual gifts for which I truly yearn.

Thank you for the kind, warm, loving souls with whom my life has become interconnected. Through time and space I remain a part of the vast web of humanity cast across our shared world, but nothing makes your lessons more personal than these human beings who walk the path with me.

Thank you for my family of origin, all of my “in-laws,” and the family of friends whom I have chosen to allow into my life and who have chosen me.

And most of all, thank you for my wife and my boys. Nothing makes my journey more worthwhile than their love, trust, and understanding.

Thank you for everything.

Thank you.