Smoke Testing

Every time I drive by the corner of Grandiflora and Waterford, I see a sign that announces: 

Sewer Smoke Testing

Tuesday, August 17

Today is August 28, and I'm seriously worried about those workers who've been testing the sewer smoke for the last 11 days. After all, smoking sewers must be a bigger health risk than smoking tobacco. Don't you think? 

Surely someone has reported this to the city by now. We need to get those people out of the sewers. They're probably lying around, in some chemical-induced stupor like the people in opium dens we used to hear so much about. 

Is sewer smoke testing ever sanitary?

My first thought when learning about this sewer smoking was that another silly study or test was underway that would tell us what we already knew. Or if not something we already knew for certain, then something we strongly suspected.

I remember working as a laboratory assistant for a certain chemistry professor at my alma mater when he was studying the effects on laboratory rats of drinking whiskey. The study required a case of Jack Daniels, Black Label, Tennessee sipping whisky, and several crates of white rats. 

You're probably thinking that I don't need to tell you the results of the study. You're probably thinking that the rats became intoxicated and then adopted silly if not downright irresponsible behavior. That happened, of course, but it was a secondary result.

The seminal finding was that the consumption of Jack Black resulted in silly, irresponsible behavior in student laboratory assistants. But even if that specific result wasn't on your immediate radar, you must still agree that we didn't need a study to know it would happen. But that's not the thing that interests me today.

After a bit of reflection on these unnecessary studies and their findings, I found myself plunged into deep thought. As you well know, too often when a man of my mental powers is deep in thought, nothing comes of it. The machinery whirs for a while and that's the end of it. But on this occasion, voila! I know; it's something the French say. I don't know why they say it but it sounds good so I say it too. Voila!

You see, it occurred to me that I might be onto something that would make Ms. Wonder happy and also be a bit of goose for yours truly. Not actually goose, of course; a figure of speech. I'm actually a big supporter of geese rights.

In this case, the goose is money. You see, surprising as it may be to you, I'm aware that some of these controlled studies result in a flight to Oslo and the awarding of Nobel Prizes. And those prizes come with a substantial bit of goose.

I decided to look into the matter a little further. First, I reviewed some recent studies to get an idea of the current trends.  Here are a few actual research projects that I found: 

• The American Heart Association study found that recovery from heart attack is is improved if patients stop smoking cigarretes.  

• A recent study reported in the Journal of Health Psychology shows that being homeless is bad for physical and mental health. 

Now, if, like me, you see an opportunity in all this to do a little Google research, write a paper, and then board a plane to Oslo, let me suggest a few ideas that I'm kicking around. Run these up your flagpole to see if any of them inspire you:

• Does drinking alcohol cause people to feel more relaxed at parties?
• Does advancing age increase the probablity of accidental injury?  

Those are just a few ideas that've come to me since sewer smoke testing. I hope these thoughts are not a direct result of smoking the sewers. I'd love to hear your ideas. Perhaps we can share that Nobel Prize. 

So It Goes

Well, here we are again. You're probably tired of hearing it--Ms. Wonder's undoubtedly fed up. I know this because her reaction, when the subject comes up, is something like Shakespeare described as the poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, glancing from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven. Not a direct quote but you get the idea.

I apologize if you're bored with the subject, but it's not like I enjoy it either. It reminds me of the time Niles asked Frazier what he thought of the tassels on Nile's new loafers. Frazier said he never cared much for tassels and Nile's said:

"Never have I and yet there they are."

But enough of the preamble. Here's the thing that's bugging me. I've described Amy as the red queen in Alice but it occurs to me that sometimes she takes a line through Captain Bligh of the Bounty. After her practical jokes leave me in a heap on the floor, she has her minions put me in a small rowboat with nothing but a loaf of bread and a bottle of water and then set me adrift off some remote island.

Not literally, of course. But the result is the same; I feel helpless and hopeless.

That's where I am today--adrift and alone. At least alone emotionally. I mean to say that Uma Maya, the feline Empress of Chatsford, and Sagi M'Tesi, the caramel-colored tabby, are here with me to comfort and console. And Ms. Wonder is with me, despite her frenzied eye-rolling.

I want to make it clear that I don't blame Princess Amy. Not her fault. She was born before she got her fair share of self-control. She simply cannot resist pushing red buttons. It's just unfortunate that her curiosity often leads to the Universe getting her knickers in a wad. Unfortunate, yes, and yet, to paraphrase Niles, there they are... wadded knickers.

In another Frasier episode, he told one of his callers (paraphrasing): You're mourning a loss, but it isn't for what you think. What you really mourn is the loss of the life you thought you'd have. 

Bruce Springsteen's song, Glory Days, puts it into context for me and makes me realize that when I'm mourning the life I thought I'd have, instead of creating a new life that works, what I'm actually doing is trying to relive the glory days. 

In other words, I'm trying to recapture a little of that past glory but it never works out. Instead, I'm left with the realization that time slips away quickly and leaves me with nothing. That's why the only solution is to follow Frasier's advice and create a new life with new memories, memories that are closer to home and much more real than the glory days.

And so, that's what I'm doing--starting life over. Not for the first time, mind you. I've done it before, several times, which is why you and a few others are tired of hearing it. But I'm not giving up.

Billy Joel says in his song, And So It Goes, In every heart, there is a room, a sanctuary safe and strong, to heal the wounds from [our past life] until a new one comes along. And so this time, in my quest for a new life, I'm taking refuge, not in the glory days, but in the strong, safe sanctuary in my heart.

Don't fret for me. I'll not abandon my loyal readers. I'll be here and I'll do my best to keep it upbeat. Be safe and well, my friends. And don't forget to leave comments. They help more than you can imagine.

The Russian Doll

For some time now, I've felt as though I'm caught in a time loop, like that Netflix series, Russian Doll, in which the heroine repeatedly dies and then wakes the next morning to relive the previous day. Unfortunately for me, the series ended before the writers explained how she escaped.

Frustrating isn't a strong enough word to describe my circumstances. Maddening comes close. Even writing has become a struggle and writing this blog is the one thing that I could always count on to make me feel better.

I've tried many different ways to change my situation, but no matter how hard I try, blah, blah, blah. Know what I mean? Futile. A bust. Pffththth! Like the man said in his best-selling book, one familiar to us all, 

"...for what I would, that I do not; but what I hate, that I do."

I know! My life story, for the nonce. But hey! Those who know me best, know that I refuse to eat pine needles. Not familiar with the term? It's an Inner Circle thing. If you're new here, you might want to search the blog posts for that phrase, "eat pine needles."

Now, I'm all too familiar with what Rumi says in his poem, The Guest House. It's something along the lines of, 

"Being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness, 

comes as an unexpected visitor.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond."

I try to follow this advice but it never seems to end well. Like the star of that TV program mentioned above, I die each night and wake up to the same day all over again. Well, my friend, let me be clear about where this guide from beyond has led me. It's like this:

I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore! I'll still welcome them at the door and invite them to make themselves at home but damn if I'm going to join them for tea.

Now, I don't have grandiose plans and I'm not overly confident. I have no idea about where all this is going to lead and I don't make any promises or make any predictions. But I'm going to practice Fierce Qigong like the dickens because something's got to give.

Many thanks to everyone who's stuck by me this far, especially you. To quote Ms. Wonder, "I've said it before and it's still true...I don't know what I'd do without you."

Like A Rock

My brain is trying to gaslight me. I think Princess Amy wants me dead and is trying to distract me with a hullabaloo of insanity, the easier to make me step in front of the number 14 bus.

Not going to happen, Universe, or whatever your real name is. I developed Fierce Qigong and I know how to use it. When I was six and the schoolyard bully would humiliate me by trying to force me to eat pine straw in front of our schoolmates, I stubbornly refused.  I will not eat pine needles, I told myself. (We called them needles instead of straw.) 

My Rock

I didn't eat pine needles then and I have no plans to begin now.

Much later in high school, I was introduced to the poem that Dylan Thomas wrote for his dying father, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night: 

"Do not go gentle into that good night; 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light." 

Although Dylan was specifically writing about death, I've embraced the message of the poem and applied it to those thousands of little deaths that confront me.

Fierce Qigong is the bundle of practices and principles that grew out of the stubborn refusal to eat pine needles, and my tendency to rage, rage against my feeling of powerlessness in the face of life's inevitable difficulties.

Now, if you're a member of the community here on The Circular Journey, you should brace yourself because I'm going to reference sacred scripture in the next few paragraphs. I know! Who'd a thought it? Don't reach for the remote just yet, the payoff is colossal. You're going to love it.

In his 18th Psalm, the psalmist tells us:

"...my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge."

And now, thanks to a spiritual awakening on my morning walk, I have a new ally. I finally have what Alcoholics Anonymous calls a higher power and what many of you call God. Yes! I have my Rock! And here comes the punchline, just like David, if that's his real name, I too take refuge in my Rock, my higher power. Selah.

I've known this particular rock since I first moved to the coast over a year ago. Every morning I come to Brunswick Forest for a walk in the pines and every morning this rock meets me here, to remind me, despite what the Buddha claimed, that there are constants in this funny old world, a few things that can be relied upon to remain true.

It's a theme that pops up throughout the first half of the bible. In Deuteronomy 32:4 we read, "He is the Rock, his works are perfect and all his ways are just."  Again in 1 Samuel 2:2 we're told, "There is no Rock like our God."

Perhaps because of this scriptural influence, or perhaps simply due to an intuitive awareness of the spirit of Rock, it seems universally recognized by humans that rocks are one of the few strong, enduring elements of our world. I assume it goes far back into prehistory when rock was a necessary material for tools and weapons. People depended on rock for their very lives.

And now you see why my Rock has become my higher power. I need that solid, constant, power to keep me grounded and supported. I'm happy about this new revelation. I think it's the perfect partnership because "his works are perfect and all his ways are just."

Do I plan to start a new religion? No. One religion is as bad as another. No reason to think that I can do better. I'll simply think of my practice as the Way of the Rock. It'll be my shamanic practice. Ha! I'm a shaman now! I'll incorporate the Way of the Rock into Fierce Qigong!

If you'd like to join me in the Way of the Rock, then follow the updates that appear here on The Circular Journey. Until then, here are a few ideas that I think are suitable for a beginning. From Bob Seger's song, Like A Rock:

"Like a rock, I was strong as I could be, nothin' ever got to me...chargin' from the gate, carryin' the weight...hard against the wind, I see myself again. Like a Rock."

Those words describe beautifully the stubborn resolve that has always characterized Fierce Qigong and now provide a springboard for the Way of the Rock. Ain't Life marvelous?

I want to express my appreciation to Paul Simon for his song and the title of this blog post. If you know the song, sing it! If you don't know the words, find the song and play it! That song is another rock of mine. I have lots of rocks. Drop in sometime and let my show you my rock collection.

Windows in the Sky on deck

"I've said it before and I mean it still," she said and I braced myself for the punchline, "You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

Those words came out of the mouth of Ms. Wonder and they were directed at me, of all people. Surprised? Imagine my surprise. I wanted to ask why she would say such a thing but, you know how it is, put too much focus on something and it evaporates, dissipates, fades away, and no one enjoys that.

That's how the day began and when the day gets off to a start like that, it usually means the Universe is planning a big practical joke and it's on you, my friend. Sorry, I really can only speak for myself, so let me re-phrase that and say, the jokes on me.

Later that day--it was in the early afternoon to be exact--I was returning from Southport and just outside Winnabow, I saw the full moon, plain as a picture postcard, hanging in the sky at just about the spot a window would be if the sky had windows.

You're probably thinking there's nothing unusual about seeing the moon in the open day but what if I told you that it wasn't one of those pale shades of the moon but a solid, detailed one. I could make out the Sea of Tranquility and I'm not certain but those dark spots on the lower, right edge may have been Neil Armstrong's footprints.

This is not an ordinary occurrence but I'd been expecting something like this since Wonder made that remark at the breakfast table. After all, with the auspicious convergence, if that's the term I want, something like this had to happen. Consider that in a period of only a few days we will experience the winter Olympics, Chinese New Year, Mardi Gras, and the half-off sale at the Southport CIS thrift store. 

Something had to give. The fabric of the Universe can develop a hernia when this kind of pressure builds and I knew that I was in for it now. I just hoped I'd get home before it started.

Nope!

Follow me closely on this next part because this is where you'll find the in vino veritas. Is that the term? Getting someone drunk enough to tell the truth?

Driving along Highway 87, I entered a stretch of highway where the sun was just at the perfect angle behind the trees lining the road, to create zebra streaks of sunlight and shadow. 

But wait, before I go into that, I want to say something about driving from Wilmington to Southport and if I don't tell you now, I'll forget. Most people drive down Ocean Highway to Highway 211, where they make a left turn and follow that road right smack into High Street in Southport. Bad choice. The long way to go.

What you want to do is follow Ocean Highway for only a short distance to Highway 87 and turn there. You have to look closely. Watch for the Kangaroo service station and turn just before you get to it. Southport is much closer following this route and it's a nicer drive.

I was driving that very route with those zebra stripes lining the road. Be sure you have that clear in your head; the story depends on it. As I drove into those striations (striations?), My vision alternated from light to shadow to light, in rapid succession. It was hypnotic. In a matter of seconds, my consciousness moved from the light and dark motif to a more focused awareness of on, off, on, off, on, off. Finally, I moved to an even deeper level of discrete 0, 1, 0, 1, 0, 1.

I tried to fight it, of course. Who wouldn't? But my best efforts only moved my awareness up 1 or 2 levels at a time and I couldn't completely shake it. At the dark/light level, I was Keith Richards (She’s a Rainbow was playing on SiriusXM). At the on / off level, I was the Soul Merchant (not actually a Soul Merchant but that's what some of us use as a sort of shorthand way of identifying ourselves.) 

At the deepest of zeros and ones, I ceased to exist. What I mean is that the personality known as Genome ceased to exist and I was pure consciousness. I believe this is what the Buddhists refer to as Enlightenment.

How long I continued to jump back and forth through alternate dimensions, I can't say. It seemed an eternity but probably lasted less than a minute.

Now, I'm sure that a lesser man would have been shaken to the foundations but yours truly has been through the ringer not a few times in his solar revolutions and he's developed a thick outer crust. I simply put it in the basket with all the other things that one doesn't see every day.

So what's the point, you're probably asking yourself, and I know how you feel. I ask myself the same question every day. But here's the point. You never know what Life has in store for you from one day to the next. What you expect Life to serve up is probably something bad but it's never as bad as you think. And what Life was like a few years ago wasn't really as good as you remember. Billy Joel taught me that. 

We're all just moving through the world through a series of light and dark patches. We don't move as fast as I drove but still, it works the same way. You're not really Kieth Richards and you're not a Soul Merchant. Still, you're in that personality-free state of consciousness even though you seldom realize it. 

Life will never get any better than it is right now, my friend, so the best way to deal with each day is to put everything you’ve got into it. Fierce Qigong!