“It’s Hard to Let Go….What can I Tell You?”

It is Saturday Morning. Woke up around 6:05 am? I think. It’s now 7:20 this 20th day of September, 2014. I woke up with the stupidly catchy song in my head – the one with the line “nothing’s free“. No. Nothing is free. Nothing. There is a price to be paid for every damn thing. I’m poor with nothing to show for it. There is something wrong with that picture. If you’re going to be paying through the nose (as they say) for everything, then there should be something to show for it. When you’ve given your money to the person at the window. ..After they have given you the ticket and you’ve proceeded to the ride, event, arena, grandstand….then what? What now? Sit back and enjoy the show? Yeah, sometimes I suppose. In more cases than not however, it is simply a price paid for “admission“. To get you in. Like in the old days. You paid a cover at the door of the club. It got you inside. First step. After that you look for a table near the stage or a good spot at/near the bar. You order a drink, wait for friends to show up, check out the place, wait for the band. When the band comes on stage, it all connects back to the price of admission. Now the only variable is whether or not the band is going to be playing well or if they’re just not “on” that particular night. A risk. But you know there’s the “law of probabilities”. What is the probability the band will suck? Past experience to support a higher probability (they will suck)? Is consistency on their side? What’s been their “history“? Let’s face it, past performance is an indicater of (future) success, non? Except there’s a shitload of variables to consider if you’re talking about your own damn self. Geez. This is looking more and more like a post and not “my morning words”.

“Ahem…want to take it outside m’aam…”  After dusting off the cover of tube tops, tattoos and TimeLines, I can see I invited people (you) to a conversation about…change, moving forward…I’ve never been very good at starting, encouraging or otherwise being the source of conversation. Except in those times I relate to the world as a scott. Which is to say, when I’m moving about the cabin more scottian than my predominant clarklike self. If you’re familiar with GirlieOnTheEdge, then you know that I’m a clarklike female. You also may know what that means. If not, let me give you this link. It’s a link to a virtual resource of IRL “self-development” tool(s). It’s also a pretty damned enjoyable place to simply wander about. There’s good conversation, jokes sometimes!, a nice collection of music vids,some excellent linkage out to other blogs all the while presenting, for free! a life tool the likes of which has never been presented on a mass scale. Until now. Ok. Not entirely true. It’s been around for years but the blog itself has only been around for what? 5 years? Somethin’ like that. the Wakefield Doctrine. It’s a life tool that is simple in premise, a little more involved in “application”. I like to say “the Doctrine is simple, not always easy“. It’s a life tool that goes to “real change”. Over time. Over the time it takes to learn, over the time that allows for you to observe the changes in your own damn self which in turn can’t help but affect those around you. In small ways. Sometimes in large ways. It is a tool “for you, not them“. It challenges an individual (you and me) to pick up the mirror and look. Yeah, go ahead. Take it under the bright lights. Let’s take a real good look. It takes strength. It takes courage and the willingness to look. The lines, the blemishes, the scars. They may be slight, barely noticable or they may be long ingrained, deeply etched, seemingly perpetual. What do you do about them? With them? If you’re a clark, like me, you want to “examin ’em”. But then, we clarks have spent the first part of our lives trying to figure out why we are “different’ and what it is that other people have that we don’t. And why we don’t do things “normally” like everyone else. We often wonder what is wrong with us. Seems I’ve gone on a babble today. Let me try and wrap this up.

When life arrives on the doorstep of a strange house, or there’s a knock on the door and the delivery person hands you a package you totally did not expect or otherwise want…what do you do? How do you do it? Where do you start?



You never can tell? Sure you can.

I don’t know what this is, this business of TimeLines. I mean, shit…I got myself here. I bid for Power. And now, now I find myself suspended between 2 TimeLines. Not fully in either. I walk through the new one wearing the old one as if it was a long forgotten favorite sweater. When I feel a chill, it’s comfortable to snug it around me. It gives me a sense (or some semblence) of security, this soft, faded sweaterblanket…”

But there’s a problem with that. All the time travel stories I’ve read warn of certain timeline travails. In particular, trying to keep a foot in both TimeLines (for all intents and purposes, worlds). While it may appear possible to go back and forth between what was and what is, to do so is to invite disaster. It is simply not possible to maintain a self in two different places. Within 2 different TimeLines.

A choice has to be made. Anything done while in the “space” of either TimeLine has significant impact on the other (TimeLine). In fact, there’s a “drag” effect and it is entirely possible to cancel/nullify and otherwise extinguish either or both TimeLines. Resistance from the former TimeLine is an inherent risk. 

Here, let’s  substitute “TimeLine” with “life”. You know, the everyday, day to day, routine laden, get up in the morning and….”  My story? I had a life in Florida from 2003 up until October 22, 2013. When I stepped over and into another TimeLine.

I put in a bid for power (to borrow from Castaneda) in March of 2013. I witnessed (that power), accepted the challenge and now find myself living in Northern Virginia trying to build a new life. Trying to assimilate here, grow here, put down roots here.(again) The irony? It’s the same place geographically I left almost 11 years ago. Only VA today, in 2014 is a place I do not know. It is the same but I am not. 

I’ve been here almost 4 months. I (temporarily) live in a room in an apartment outside of Washington, D.C. Living a life dramatically different from the one I was living mere months ago. Circumstances are such that I still have major strings attached to the old life. I still have a house, well I did until January 7th. I still have a Man, although I cannot say that with certainty. Up until December 7, 2013 I still had a Dog.  That sad tale is chronicled in The Gift That is Zoey at my “other, first blog”, GirlieOnTheEdge.

 Timelines are threads. They are strings. “They are choices by virtue of emotional content.

The life that I knew is gone. A moment in time. I have nothing except that which lies outside my door today. While I attempt to figure out how the me in this life wants, chooses, to live, I cannot pretend that all that was, is still intact. It is impossible to alter life so drastically and not accept that I am someone different as a result. That the man I left behind is not different as a result. Of changing TimeLines. This “change” is not for everyone. If you are the other half of a couple, and you have not moved forward together? 2 words. Holy. Shit.

There is no living in the past. There is no living in the future. It’s the present, the here, the now, the today that now provides a “past” and upon which a “new” future is built. The importance of this is, well, huge.

Congrats to anyone who manages/has managed to “create a new TimeLine”, a new life for themselves. It is no small feat and in my opinon an accomplishment worthy of acknowledgement. It requires an enormous amount of energy and sustained emotional content, to bend the strings of a life sufficiently to allow for the possibility of another, alternate, hopefully better life. As a clark who has done this, taken a first step, I am here to talk about it. To open a conversation about journies. About life. About how life for some doesn’t quite turn out “right”.

Let me conclude my clarklike, Hansel and Gretel trail of words with this… for you who insist that life has to be better, for you who want more, for those of you who accept that you deserve better, know this – There is a price. And no one talks much about it. The price of altering one’s TimeLine. The cost of the new, hopefully better Life. Guarantees? No one said anything about guarantees. Fact of the matter is, there’s always a price to be paid. Always. The scary part? We simply don’t know what that price is or when the demand for payment will be made.

Here’s the catch – by virtue of the fact that you have altered that which was by stepping into that which can be/that which is possible, you have committed to a thing you cannot be 100% sure of. Simply put, you walk up to the window, slap your wager down on that worn and grimy counter, turn and walk away hoping to God you’ve got a winner.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this blog. Once I had it all and now I have nothing. There comes a time when it is necessary to take a stand and make a choice. To find another place. To acknowledge how it is you want to live. A time to stand up to the questions. How do I get there? How do I create a new life? What do I do if I’m lucky enough to have created the outline for another, different TimeLine.

So I’ll be here. To talk about life and living and self-development. To talk about walking “the path with heart”. To talk about making the “hard” decisions. To talk about sacrifice. To talk about living. Now.

C’est la vie mes amis, and you know….you never can tell…..