Take to,
Somewhere in the midst of moving back home, then out, and juggling jobs and jumpstarting a career I lost a lot of piece of mind. I think mainly because I never have time to be bored and let my mind wonder. I am beginning to miss being bored and am trying to get back to it. This past weekend for instance, I was out every night from 7pm until somewhere in the AM. During the two weekend days I worked a 10 hour shift, and went over to the relatives for the other day. And the weekend is my time to relax.
For so long, I've been constantly working. Working on something whether my job, improving my job, improving my understanding of concepts, improving my grasp on subjects, improving something; and somewhere in it all, I've squeezed out all time for free thinking and relaxing my mind.
Tonight as I was feeling dead tired, weaving through the crowd in the cereal aisle to get some Hempseed cereal and super nutrient drinks, I decided I would revisit a euphoric ritual I would once perform. After my groceries were dropped off at the place in Wallingford, I headed across the overpass of I-5 to the university street for some record shopping. I found a nice deserted aisle in a record shop with no one in site as far as the vinyl section goes. While there, I flipped rapidly through the endless bins of vinyls searching for my jewels in the rough. Not caring about a starting point or ending point; record stores are one of the few places on earth where I can easily lose myself and forget all thoughts on time or schedules, or tasks, or things I need to do.
While there, I truly let go for the first time in such a long time and became lost in the bins of vinyls. The only thing that went through my mind were the beats conjurred up by title and labels, and the feeling of a short swift, dusty breeze that would stirr for less than a second each time a vinyl was flipped from one side of the bin to the other.
By the end, I had a mixture of Chemical Brothers, Blood Brothers, and Environmental sounds from The Bayou, and classical masterpieces. Tonight really brought up the issue of really how busy my brain always is and how consumed I am with all the things I am not passionate about. My life should be about the feeling I had tonight, and the things that I feel strongly about. Lately I've been just so consumed with the little busy things in life, and it's time I lived it for me and all that I am passionate about.
It hasn't just been incidents like tonight. The other day I found a vinyl from the early 70's by a band that wasn't all that well known, and they had a less known recording done that I had never heard of. After the needle found it's place within the grooves and began to jog, my ears were truly amazed by the arrangement of sounds that had been intentionally placed together so well. So well.
I don't want to sound all weird or nothing, but it just seems that for the past couple of years, I've lost my center/drive/passion for life. I have been dancing to a blurred beat of little importance; and the more I step outside myself, the more I'm beginning to wake up and become passionate about things again. Colors and arrangements of everything all around me is beginning to look like it used to so long ago. I'm finally beginning to let go and actually enjoy life. So often I tell myself how I am existing when it becomes rapidly evident that my existance is far from my perception at times in my life. The more I said I was growing, the longer I was standing still, and the longer I simply exist, the more I seem to grow. It's kind of like a big ideological paradigm shift in how I view so many things.
For so long, I've been constantly working. Working on something whether my job, improving my job, improving my understanding of concepts, improving my grasp on subjects, improving something; and somewhere in it all, I've squeezed out all time for free thinking and relaxing my mind.
Tonight as I was feeling dead tired, weaving through the crowd in the cereal aisle to get some Hempseed cereal and super nutrient drinks, I decided I would revisit a euphoric ritual I would once perform. After my groceries were dropped off at the place in Wallingford, I headed across the overpass of I-5 to the university street for some record shopping. I found a nice deserted aisle in a record shop with no one in site as far as the vinyl section goes. While there, I flipped rapidly through the endless bins of vinyls searching for my jewels in the rough. Not caring about a starting point or ending point; record stores are one of the few places on earth where I can easily lose myself and forget all thoughts on time or schedules, or tasks, or things I need to do.
While there, I truly let go for the first time in such a long time and became lost in the bins of vinyls. The only thing that went through my mind were the beats conjurred up by title and labels, and the feeling of a short swift, dusty breeze that would stirr for less than a second each time a vinyl was flipped from one side of the bin to the other.
By the end, I had a mixture of Chemical Brothers, Blood Brothers, and Environmental sounds from The Bayou, and classical masterpieces. Tonight really brought up the issue of really how busy my brain always is and how consumed I am with all the things I am not passionate about. My life should be about the feeling I had tonight, and the things that I feel strongly about. Lately I've been just so consumed with the little busy things in life, and it's time I lived it for me and all that I am passionate about.
It hasn't just been incidents like tonight. The other day I found a vinyl from the early 70's by a band that wasn't all that well known, and they had a less known recording done that I had never heard of. After the needle found it's place within the grooves and began to jog, my ears were truly amazed by the arrangement of sounds that had been intentionally placed together so well. So well.
I don't want to sound all weird or nothing, but it just seems that for the past couple of years, I've lost my center/drive/passion for life. I have been dancing to a blurred beat of little importance; and the more I step outside myself, the more I'm beginning to wake up and become passionate about things again. Colors and arrangements of everything all around me is beginning to look like it used to so long ago. I'm finally beginning to let go and actually enjoy life. So often I tell myself how I am existing when it becomes rapidly evident that my existance is far from my perception at times in my life. The more I said I was growing, the longer I was standing still, and the longer I simply exist, the more I seem to grow. It's kind of like a big ideological paradigm shift in how I view so many things.