I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, …I was supposed to get some work done this weekend, but no, it never happened. Today I putted around. Mostly outside and coming back to my porch chair sitting and enjoying my beautiful fall. My time of year. My comfortably numb.

I strangely don’t feel like others. How do I know how others feel? It’s all in the all of course. Thrusted and ingrained upon us. A bit of an oddball I guess. Sometimes that frightens me, other times I raise that flag proudly. I don’t think we’re doing this living thing right. Day after day latching onto things to bring us happiness while all it does is make us worry more about keeping all our things. Acting like others to be like others. Doing this, doing that, rat a tat tat. Images, devices, a communication freak show pushed down our throat. Are you feeling okay? Something wrong? Oh, we can fix that.

Working worky work. For what? To survive you say. Hmm..I’m survived. There feels like there’s more behind this tapestry. The wizard is now our phones.

My push to get sober was to wake up. Living wasn’t meant to consume mass quantities just to make it through a day, event, a moment. I truly believed I had to get back to my natural state. Surely it would of been a cruel ride to have to escape daily what we were birthed into.

Natural. Getting back. Removing THINGS. This seems to resonate.

I’m not into much. Oh you must be depressed. You need to be around people more. Or you need to do this or do that. Do. Do. Do. Why is it you’re not into much?

Is it that the much is so much less then what’s right here?

Hold it together, man. Keep playing the game or you’ll go .. go , no mustn’t say it.

How did insane and depression even come to be words that slowly float into my head. Said it. Yes that’s it, I’m all up in my shit, up in my head. This all sounds like a Pink Floyd trip. Time to go …time to go. I’ve always been mad.

Like with sobriety I feel there is another veil that needs to be lifted. We aren’t taught these things because we’ve never stopped, questioned, nor tried. We instead must continue to biggering and continuing and just a bunch of bullshitting. And why is it I’m the odd one? It’s literally a crime to start seeing the glimmers so late in life after the chaotic first ride. But that ride is prescribed over and over and over.

I’m not of what I’m currently doing. I’m doing, but I’m not. There feels like there is more.

Maybe it was the tree I posted. Maybe the veil lifted briefly. Maybe it was me starting to read Wilderness – Gateway to the Soul. It’s 12:45 AM. I think I’ll go back to my porch chair and gaze at the stars.



23 responses to “Wilderness”

  1. It IS a “crime to start seeing the glimmers so late in life,” and I’m pretty sure you’re not the only one who feels that way, Dwight. Maybe it’s just veil after veil until the end? Take care!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I think so too. Thanks, Becky.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I like this way of putting it – veil after veil until the end. Maybe the beauty is in learning to see the veils at all, then the joy and relief of lifting them!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. The whole ‘do do do’ thing makes me crazy. It makes me so tired. Can’t we just ‘be’? Lovely post 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I really love this post, read it twice! I think my favorite part is “Surely it would of been a cruel ride to have to escape daily what we were birthed into.” That really resonated with me, for myself and being a mom. I’m really glad I’m here FULLY for my daughter right now.
    I hope you had a wonderful/peaceful time staring at the stars in your porch chair. Sounds absolutely wonderful! I’m here in the hospital with a new book I’m going to read more of and just “being” with my daughter. No go go go, do do do…..

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Good good good, Jackie🤗❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I found it’s true that things make me happy momentarily, but spending money on experiences create lasting memories that I love.
    We are hiking on the North Shore of Lake Superior.
    The waterfalls and rivers are things I will always be happy to see.
    I’m so glad I’m able to slowly shed more is better.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Enjoy, Wendy! I miss the water…so calming😊


  5. Lovely post. Don’t be like others. We can all be like others. Being ourselves is a better way to be, whatever that entails. I have mentioned to three people in the last three days slowing the do do doing and practicing being. Stay on that porch … sounds perfect to me 🤗😘❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  6. As I remove myself more and more from the social occasions of life I realize how that was never me to begin with. Now, I’d choose a front porch under the stars over a night out every time… and being different is being yourself, and that’s priceless. Makes me think of that poem by Mary Oliver, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life…” 💕

    Liked by 2 people

    1. What a wonderful poem, Collette! I feel that😊


  7. lol…you sound like my brain…but write it down much more eloquently…i love that..lets me know i am not alone in those types of thought strings…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Glad to know I have partner🤪


  8. I think you are onto something, Dwight, Just keep on spending time in nature, hiking Barr Trail, and gazing at the stars, and you will see more clearly all the time. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I don’t think you are at all alone in thoughts like this. I’m sure most people have feeling like this at times.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Removing things – you’re so right Dwight – I think this sobriety thing is stripping the layers that have built up like an onion and finding our true simplest self – what can be more worthwhile and true than that? Keep on being you my friend 💞💞

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Doc😊. It always feel good when others can connect with what I’m putting down❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  11. And yes I def think it’s the tree that’s done it! 😘

    Liked by 1 person

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