I'm Out There, Jerry!

I'm writing a book in which I describe precisely how I have managed to recover from the catastrophe of mood disorder without the use of mood-stabilizing drugs. I'm convinced that the techniques I use will work for anyone willing to use them.

I'm one of the almost 70% of people for whom the drugs just don't work. Through my own efforts to regain control of my life, I have learned that we just don't need drugs to live stable, productive lives.

The problem for me is that I don't know how to write a book. I'm not new to writing, however. I've had more than 80 non-fiction articles published in magazines and newspapers, none of them related to mood disorders. I know how to organize and present information--but only in the short format of magazine and newspaper articles. 

I've found that writing a book is very different. The book I'm writing is a short one but it's still much longer than the 2500 words I write for periodicals. I've been working, on and off, on this book for longer than I care to admit--years--and the draft still isn't complete.

I've learned from past experience to do what others do to overcome similar problems. Sticking with the winners I call it. I recently read Austin Kleon's book, Show Your Work. I highly recommend it to any creative type who struggles to get work noticed.

In that wonderful, little book, Mr. Kleon suggests that if we're in the middle of a project, it's helpful to share through social media about our methods or works in progress. He suggests that we share imperfect and unfinished work that we want feedback on.

"The act of sharing is one of generosity," he says, "you're putting something out there because you think it might be helpful or entertaining to someone on the other side of the screen."

He quotes Bobby Solomon, the man behind The Fox is Black, who said, "Put yourself, and your work, out there every day, and you'll start meeting some amazing people."

This idea frightens me a little. Still, Austin Kleon is someone that I consider a winner, so I've decided to follow his advice and start showing what I've got.

All this talk of "being out there" reminds me of a Seinfeld episode in which Kramer decides that jockey shorts are too confining and boxer shorts are too baggy. 

Well, that leaves only one option, of course, and Jerry, shocked at Kramer's decision says, "Oh no! Tell me it isn't so." 

Kramer responds by saying, "Oh, it's so. I'm out there, Jerry, and I'm loving every minute of it!"

So, with this blog post, I'm announcing that I'm out there!

Hard Like Water

I found her at the cafe table where I'd left her only minutes before.

"Lupe," I said. "I'm so glad you haven't left."

And I was too. You see, we'd finished that conversation which is now the gist of the last post and I'd shared my advice about wooden nickles and ankled away. Then I remembered the real reason I'd come looking for her in the first place.

Adorable Vectors by Vecteezy

"Still here," she said, "but If you have a long story, it will have to wait until our next appointment. I'm meeting friends in the Castle Street Arts District."

"You'll have time for me, you young geezer," I said. The remark was made in the warmest, most loving way of course.

"Walk and talk," she said getting up from the cafe table and heading uptown.

"What's happening on Castle Street?" I asked.

"No time for that now," she said. "You'll have to wait for tomorrow's Star News and read about it there."

"Big stuff," I said and was about to muse on it but she came to an abrupt stop, looked me in the eye, and said, "Talk."

"Ah, right," I said. "I need some advice about changes I want to make in my life. I've been struggling..."

"I know," she said.

"I practice all my power principles and yet I seem to make no progress. I'm beginning to feel that I'm stuck in some wormhole or other. Or maybe I've crossed over the horizon boundary of a black hole or whatnot."

"Well, I know how much you like to compare your life to quantum fields," she said, "but you're wasting subspace energy looking there. Your problem is that you've forgotten Fierce Qigong."

"Mankiller!" I said coming to an abrupt stop. You've been around these parts long enough to know that when I use this former shrimp's surname I mean business and I want it to show.

"Never do I forget Fierce Qigong. It's my raison d'ette."

She came to an abrupt stop. It was looking like a big day for abrupt stops. She turned around and took two slow steps toward me. I knew she meant business.

"What is the foundation of Fierce Qigong?" she asked.

It was a rhetorical question, of course, but I had a strange feeling that we were about to get somewhere and I thought it best to play along.

"Fierce Qigong is founded on taiji chuan," I said.

"Chen style," she said.

"To be sure," I said.

"And what is the principal difference between taiji chuan and kung fu?" she said. "Or should I say, wushu?"

"Wushu or even sip pal gi in case any of my Korean masters hear of this conversation." 

"Genome! Put a sock in it! Back to the question; what's the difference between taiji and wushu?"

Well, checkmate, I thought. She'd done it again and with only two questions. Forget Sherlock Holmes, forget Jeeves; when this Lupe Louise Mankiller accepts an assignment her mysterious something works wonders.

"The difference is soft hands," I said. "Hands like water--soft and yielding and yet unstoppable; cutting through stone."

"Taking a relaxed approach," she said. "Never losing inner harmony. Performing the next best thing without striving and without planning the outcome."

"That's what I haven't been doing," I said.

"Rem acu tetigisti," she said.

"Fierce Qigong," I said. And I meant it too.

Running On Empty

As I drove up Castle Street this morning the murals on the sides of buildings gave me no joy. The Arts District was quiet at that early hour but all was confusion in my head. 

Did I mention that I felt like something the cat dragged in after a night of unusual circumstances? Well, now you have all the data describing the starting point so you can predict the rest.

I'd come to Cafe Luna expecting to find my 15-year-old godniece Lupe there. She'd said as much in a series of text messages I received this morning while preparing Uma's medications. I refer, of course, to Uma, Queen of Cats, and Empress of Chatsford. 

Her first text was terse and demanding. Come immediately, is what it said. I refer, of course, to Lupe's text, not Uma's. Uma doesn't have a phone anymore. I had to confiscate it after that mysterious box of cat toys turned up at our door, last summer.

I was at a loss to understand the exact meaning of her words. Come where, I wondered, and why? I had no immediate comeback and I pondered the words trying to find the most appropriate reply.

What do you mean, come immediately? I typed.

What do you mean, what do I mean? came her response. I'm here at Cafe Luna waiting for you, you big jamoke. Get here in the next 15 minutes or eat my dust.

I suddenly remembered that I'd requested this audience the previous evening and I knew that if I didn't show up right away, the Cafe Luna sidewalk would be noticeably free of Lupes.

Still, even with good intentions and all that, I had to cross the river to get to the cafe. I don't mean that I had to row or catch a ferry. There is a bridge, but still, a few minutes were required to relocate. And so a few minutes later I was turning onto Castle Street and as I mentioned, the murals gave me no joy. 

I entered the cafe and saw them immediately. Lupe was dressed in a denim waist jacket if that's the term. She wore a short flannel skirt, black combat boots, and one of those leather caps that actors used to wear in movies of the late 60's.

I only mention her attire because, since moving to the Castle Street Arts district, her taste in outer upholstery has changed from Gothic to Hipster. It's something you may have noticed yourself.  

"Good morning," I said to the pair for there were two of them. I don't mean two Lupes. I wasn't manic after all. What I mean is that she was co-locating with a friend. I knew it was a friend because they were dressed alike. Jumping to conclusions do you think? Possibly.

"Good morning," said the friend, who resembled that young actress who starred in the movie from the early 80's. The one that became the seminal film of the decade. You know the one I mean. 

"Wow," said the godniece, who had remained silent until now--silent but with wide-eyed surprise on her map. "Why the frown? You look like something the cat dragged in..."

"After a wild night out with the neighborhood raccoons?" I said.

"I was going to say, Even though the market for same was sluggish to non-existent."

"What can I get you?" said a voice off-camera.

"Double cap," said Lupe. "Same," said Claudia. I did mention that her name was Claudia, didn't I? "I'll have an Americano," I said.

"Now tell me," said Lupe, "what's wrong with you?"

"For one thing," I said, "my thumb hurts like unrequited love because I stuck a hypodermic syringe underneath it while trying to load it with Uma's lactulose this morning."

"Oh, ungh!" said Claudia. "A hypodermic?"

"Not the pointy end," I said. "The other end." But she seemed to not get the gist. Her face radiated confusion. Rather than explain, I decided to change the subject because I didn't want this blog post to run into overtime.

And as for you," I said to Lupe, "I need some bright, warm welcoming this morning and so far your greeting hasn't met the necessary requirements."

"You know," she said, "there was a time when you behaved toward me like a godfather but you went astray somewhere and now I have to take care of myself. How could you forget that we were meeting here this morning?"

"Lupe, I need your advice," I said hoping to cut through all the distractions and get right to the nub. 

"I know," she said. "So whassup?" 

"It's like this," I said. "I've had several events of synchronicity lately. More than the recommended dose for the average adult. Events that involve things like Nickle Creek and Talking Heads."

"That is alarming," she said.

"You ain't heard nothin'," I said. "Most recently, I was reviewing some old blog posts and I came across the one titled, Saying Goodbye to Mom."

"That must have been difficult for you," she said.

"Don't interrupt please," I said, "I'll get off topic and never be able to find my way back."

"Two double cappuccinos and an americano," said the barista.

"Did I ask for an extra shot?" I said.

"No," she said, "but I'll take care of it right away."

I looked at the two hipsters seated with me at this table located near the window but not too near the door. I mention it here only because it's all I was aware of as I searched the recent activities to find my place in the narrative if it was a narrative.

The girls looked back at me as though they were waiting for me to finish something.

"What?" I said.

"Saying goodbye to Mom," said Lupe.

"Oh, right," I said. "You see, I remembered that the piece needed a bit of revision and since I had a few minutes, I decided to give it a go."

"Okay," she said and then looked at Claudia. Did I mention her name is Claudia? The above-mentioned looked back at her and then they both looked at me. 

"Go on," she said. Apparently, they were in agreement that my story was Okay so far.

"Well," I said. "The changes were already made and I don't remember making them. The phrases in the revisions were so creative, that I'm sure I'd remember if they were mine."

"The mind pulls some pretty quirky pranks sometimes," she said.

"You think that's all it is?" I said. "I just don't remember writing those words?"

"I'd say something along those lines, more or less, make up the probability distribution of the quantum wave function."

"I'm not so sure," I said.

"Well, at least consider it," she said, "and you might try sticking your finger in an electrical outlet on the chance that EST will reset your brain and clear up the mystery."

Once again this teenage Jeeves had shown light on the dark corners of my mind. Our little encounter left me feeling a good deal better than when I entered the cafe. The pain in the thumb was completely forgotten although my finger still smarted from the electrical shock.

Welcome to My World

I'm a big fan of the Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon and I'm a little surprised by it. I'm surprised because Mr. Fallon does something that I usually would not like at all--he makes every show about himself. But he does it so well that I enjoy it.

I really enjoy getting to know a little something about celebrities. Don't we all? After all, celebrities are very successful and interesting people. We may even learn something from listening to them, right? 

There's another reason why I like to get to know a little something about celebrities, especially actors. It seems to me that many, not all, actors share my thoughts, my attitudes, and my values on the subject of how we should treat others. In other words, they seem more accepting and less judgemental than the general public.

You may not agree; I know that many don't and that's ok. Agree or not, I think you understand why I usually want the guest to be the center of attention. But that doesn't happen on the Tonight Show.

When Fallon is alone on the set, it's all about Jimmy, and why not? It's his show. But when he's joined by a guest--shall we say, Taylor Swift, it's never all about her. It's about Jimmy and Taylor.

If I'm watching any other show where this specific Tonight Show format is used, I start looking for reruns of Seinfeld or Big Bang Theory. The difference is that Fallon has created a wonderful little world that allows only fun. Jimmy has fun, the guests have fun and I have fun just watching. I get completely caught up in all that positive emotion.

I don't only enjoy watching; I want to be like Jimmy Fallon. I want to have a little world of my own where I can, just for a little while, forget about war, disease, natural disasters, and the inhumanity of mankind. I want to enjoy everything that's right with life.

That's what I try to accomplish with this blog. It's a place where I can do my own positive emoting and, just as I enjoy Jimmy's Tonight Show, I hope that you will enjoy my world with me.

Unleashing Inner Fierceness

About this same time of year but back a few years ago, I was in Savannah, Georgia, to immerse myself in lifestyle changes that I hoped would fully and finally liberate me from the emotional and physical pain that has plagued me for most of my life. I called this new way of living, fierce qigong.

I chose Savannah because it is one of my favorite cities, esteemed for many reasons but close to the top of the list is its colonial history--some of the cobblestones in River Street are actually ballast stones from sailing ships that once docked here.

I like it too for the European look and feel with its network of welcoming plazas and historic fountains, and the fact that it's the most walkable city I've found in America--it's a pleasure to park your car and forget it until you say goodbye.

The first morning in Savannah, I was in the park overlooking the Savannah River, between Bay Street and River Street. It was early--before dawn--and the only people moving about were the city sanitation workers and the homeless.

On a park bench near where I was performing morning salutations, one of the latter was just waking, stirred to life no doubt by the noise of the garbage trucks.

As I moved through Wuji Swimming Dragon and Waves on the Water, I realized that he was watching me and by the time I was ready to begin Separating Earth and Sky, he was walking my way.

"Morning," I said.

He returned the greeting and then said, "What is that you're doing? Are you a martial artist?"

"It's called qigong," I said, "and it's an ancient Chinese healing exercise."

"What's that?" he said.

I explained that qigong is many things and that its benefits include improving physical health and mental clarity.

"I need that," he said.

"It's easy," I said, "just do what I do."

I began my routine again and he followed along, surprising me by staying with me for all eight of the wudaos. When we finished I asked, "What do you think?"

"I think those ancient Chinese knew something," he said.

I understood exactly what he meant. Qigong has become the cornerstone of what I now call Fierce Living, a set of principles that I use to manage the physical pain of arthritis and the emotional pain of bipolar disorder.

Only since that day have I been able to truly say that I've found the solution to life's challenges and that I'm free from the limitations of yesterday. Life has truly become a qigong odyssey.

I haven't been back to Savannah since but when I do return I would love to find that the homeless of Savannah are practicing qigong on the river.

Life comes hard and fast--be ready for it--Fierce Qigong!