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Going Places

by MAÔ, posted in Travel

I’m laying in bed reading, and I felt like writing some. Doctor Strange is playing on the television, background noise at this point, as I’ve probably watched it half a dozen times since it arrived courtesy of the Disney Movie Club two weeks ago. My mutt, One, can’t decide if he wants to lay on the bed with me or be let out. He’ll jump down, run around the room, and then half hop up, waiting for me to lift his back half. He’s half-boxer, half-pit bull, as lazy as he is spoiled, and I’ll miss him when I leave on Friday.

The time has come for travelling back to Europe, a 24-day trek through six countries and nine cities. 

I’m thinking of course of the London attacks today, and wishing for a safer world. I’m thinking of last year’s trip to Ireland and Scotland, and wonder why I didn’t explore more of the world before. I’m thinking of the stack of unread books I’m leaving in wait for me, and of the beat-up copy of On the Road I’ll be taking with me. And I’m thinking of what I’ll do when I get back.

One is curled up beside me, as I reread Susan Orlean’s intro to The Best American Travel Writing 2007. This passage stood out: “I’d also figured out something about the nature of travel. For the first time, it seemed clear to me that travel is not about finding something: it’s about getting lost – that is, it is about losing yourself in a place and a moment.”

Well, here’s to getting lost!

Strange Things are Afoot at the Circle K

by MAÔ, posted in Florida, Synchronicity, The Artist's Way

I’ve had a kind of bad week at the office. To wit, I don’t actually have an office. I used to, working a quasi 9-5 office job in Orlando. It was a job in my field (arts administration) and the work was governmental, so it was decent pay and fairly good benefits. It was also wholly unsatisfying. When my life upended, I decided it was time to leave that job as well.

I quit. I left without a safety net, without a plan, and without any job prospects. Somehow, I’ve been fortunate enough in life to have things work out for me. Sometimes it serendipitous, sometime downright miraculous. Julia Cameron calls it synchronicity. 

That’s not to say I haven’t been down and out before. Last year was a big down and out year, and I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get up. Even with that said, within four weeks of leaving my job, I found work. More accurately, my mother knew a guy who just lost a worker, so I was able to step in. Voila! Instant employment.

Turns out, I was pretty good at the work too. Mostly it’s smooth sailing, with very little mental exertion needed on my part. While working there, I’ve been paying bills, taking the occasional travel adventure, teaching, writing, and reorienting myself to what I should be doing. Getting my head right, and my soul in balance, after its misadventures in 2016. Just last week I was starting to look to PhD programs and seeing what other work opportunities might be available to me after I return from Europe. 

Which sets up the drama of this week. On Friday, filling in for someone who needed the night off, I had a customer lose her temper with me, walking out and threatening to have me fired. This didn’t bother me so much, as I know she was just blowing off steam, and she has a history of frustrated rants, especially when she comes in forgetting to take her medication. She suffers from a mental instability of some kind, so we all try to remain very patient with her.

Saturday was a busy day, but I think it was uneventful as my week’s negative aspects played out. Sunday, on the other hand, busy and downright awful. I have a coworker who for some reason has this chip on her shoulder towards me. She has a general chip on her shoulder, but it’s even more pronounced when directed in my vicinity. Sometimes she is in charge, but on Sunday she and I were both working the floor. There was this heated exchange, and I had to walk away. Out of the back door and around the building. 

Now it takes a great deal to aggravate me, and even more so to make me angry. But at one point I noticed my hands shaking, and I knew that there was nothing good that would come of me engaging anymore with her. Now, the owner has said nothing to me concerning the incident, but the other party has been off since then, and it’s possible he would want to talk with her first.

Then, again, a minor incident on Monday and one yesterday, all leading me to the inevitable query: Is it synchronicity’s way of telling me it’s time to leave? 

I haven’t come to a conclusion yet, nor do I think that I’ll reach one prior to leaving on the 24th. I do think that it’s quite interesting that, after eight months of relative quiet, all of a sudden this week it seems to be one thing after another. So I wonder… Is it the Universe giving me not-so-subtle hints that, “Hey. It’s time.” 

The last time I ignored the Universe I had a mountain dropped on my head. Figuratively. I do not need that again. 

Philosophical Art

by MAÔ, posted in Ego, Emerson, Faith, Gaiman, Mountain, Spirituality, The Artist's Way, Thoreau

Been on a brief hiatus, as I reoriented myself in a direction I’m comfortable with. Coming to terms with losing love, the balancing of material and spiritual, energizing my thoughts and, finally, discovering what it means to break life down into manageable segments.  

“It’s not the destination, but the journey.” – Attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Years ago I conceived Michael’s Musings to be a political soap box for my thoughts and views on the happenings and going-ons of American politicians. I was, and remain, an ardent Obama supporter, and remain convinced of his merits as president to this day. I’ve been non-vocal on my views following this past election, partly because I’ve been preoccupied with my own crises. Though not a major factor in the lives of most Americans, my dark night has been the Matterhorn looming in the foreground of my consciousness, waiting to claim a life. My life. 
It’s this mountain, this hard time in my life, this period of reshaping, that reminded me of Neil Gaiman’s Make Good Art speech. In it, he implored the graduates of the University of Arts in Philadelphia to find their mountains. Make decisions that put them closer to reaching it. To achieving those goals. 

Thing was, I had long ago lost sight of my mountain. in my proper job, with a desk and office and chair and computer, I put a little sticky note on the monitor. “Will it bring you closer to your mountain?” I wrote on it, using the Japanese character for mountain (山) rather than the word. And every day I would sit there and look at it. I’d wonder whether I was getting closer to it, not even remembering what I had planned for it to be.

Then, after so long spent wondering, the damn mountain came and crashed on top of me. I guess it got tired of waiting for me to figure out that I was supposed to be climbing it. Figuratively, I was crushed. I was now facing decisions that I had no clue how to handle. And only over the past couple of weeks have things began to once again come into focus. The mountain, now looming large in my vision, is calling to me. Beckoning me to come climb it. So I take the first step.

“1837. Oct. 22. “What are you doing now?” he asked. “Do you keep a journal?” So I make my first entry to-day.’ – The Journals of Henry David Thoreau.  

Thoughts on Myth and Hero Worship pt.1

by MAÔ, posted in Thoughts

The myth has followed civilization from its earliest beginnings to modern times. It’s alterations through the ages are not at first apparent, because the modern mythology is so drastically different as not to be recognized as myth. 

Firsst things first. What is a myth? Famed mythologist, author and historian Joseph Campbell states it thus; “The high function of occidental [Western] myth and ritual is to establish a means of relationship of God to Man and Man to God.” (The Masks of God book 2 – Occidental Mythology). 

To Campbell, the vast interplay of cosmic forces we deem religion or creation was mythological in scope, and thus books on right and proper living emerged, as did institutions to bequeathe these teachings. Similarly, in the Humanistic traditions of Rome, Greece, Germanic or Celtic peoples, the deities took on human guises, and with them all the foible and folly humanity itself was capable of. 

Myths endure as lessons in how societies and individuals interact and respond to each other. They became necessary, both as teaching tools and as focal points of belief. But where are they now? Do we still have our myths, or have they become outdated and irrelevant in this golden age of science and learning?

The World as it Was

by MAÔ, posted in Thoughts

I’ve often posited that I was born into the wrong time. Surely I would have been more at home among pirates, or the early days of Hollywood, or even cruising around the county in the Further, official bus of the beatnik generation. I imagined myself a swashbuckling, charming anti-hero, which I have lived up to in some ways, including a couple of arrests. But what about that makes me any different than the men and women that comprise our sizable prison population. For the record, I do believe that the criminal justice system is in need of reform.
So these past eras of excess and adventure, now long gone. As I sat idly by, lamenting living in such times, I did little to improve the landscape. What had I done, or contributed that was truly great? Nothing. What are you doing to define the golden age of our years on this Earth? Are you creating, destroying; are you even participating? 
The legacies that those in the past have left us should inspire us to create legacies ourselves. Build it, paint, sculpt, or do it. Life is rich when we can enrich, and a full life is, by definition, one of abundance. If we were to look at the world in eyes that do not see what is broken, but what could be improved upon; what piece of ourself we wanted to give. Imagine never meeting a stranger, or being at home anywhere you were. Imagine what could be.

Be Not Discouraged

by MAÔ, posted in Poetry

While on a cruise ship (I just went cruising in the Caribbean this past week), I sat on deck and wrote a quick poem. 
Sitting on a pool deck, Several stories above the sea. Sailing is different now. 

This isn’t the Union of Merchant Sailors, Nor pirates who plunder or rape, Or months’ endless without respite. 

A sea cruise, a pleasure cruise; Not the journey of discovery. Not what Poseidon had in mind. 

The world has gotten smaller, The seas friendlier than before. Sailing for enjoyment, not to explore. 

We long for the bygone days Yet refuse to relinquish comforts. Instead we gnash and grind our teeth.

When we see the birds overhead (I pay much more attention now) We don’t know their thoughts or mind. 

Still we long for their freedom. We cry for wings to carry us Away from the here, the common place. 

We sail, eat, drink, to escape. We use wings not for freedom But to tie us to places.

To work, to family, to bonds. In this we are all alike. We shrunk the world

Through exploration, discovery. Through innovation and technology. Yet we feel smaller,

More insignificant than ever. Given the choice over and over We choose, we prefer, safety. 

We refuse to spread our wings For Icarus, in flight, went too close. Not us, we communally think. 

Inhale. exhale. In rhythm with all. Safety, rather than try. Or fail. For failure is certain death. 

At least that’s what we’re told. Taught from an early age Failure is not allowed. 

I’m sitting on a floating resort In the middle of the Caribbean Because someone imagined it. 

Even though countless ships, Other vessels, both mechanical, or human Lie on the bottom of this sea. 

Still, we sail, knowing its safety Because someone was willing to fail, To attempt over and over again. 

What they should teach: Be not discouraged. Life will break you, beat you down. But be not discouraged. 

Your steps will falter, And you will lose your way. Be not discouraged. 

You may be abandoned, From time to time feel unloved. Be not discouraged. 

You may lose hope, In yourself, or in humanity. But be not discouraged. 

The Tides of Change

by MAÔ, posted in Economy, Florida

Driving around town, listening to the Hamilton OBC recording, I realized that a large part of my problem with Daytona (and to a smaller extent, Central Florida) is that nothing is happening here. The area isn’t driving the conversation anywhere. People here can stay put in the time lapse that exists, and change doesn’t come until it trickles from elsewhere. Change isn’t being made here.

It’s an interesting concept. Orlando and Orange County has a thriving virtual reality and simulation industry, but it’s not Silicon Valley, or even Portland, Maine. It’s a smaller semi-hub, and the economic drivers of the area hurts more than aides potential employment. The theme parks create lively destinations, but it’s a tourism-driven industry, and other than conventions or vacations, there’s very little incentive to rock the boat around town.
The thought crossed my mind that perhaps I would feel motivated to spur change here. Some factors prevent me from considering making this home permanent, but that’s neither here nor there.

Change happens where change happens, and that’s historically in the more metropolitan areas. Where bohemia and big business converge, and ideas take shape and take root. There, the tide is continually flowing and all around it either flow with the current or fight to change it. At the outskirts, where the flowing water is rarely felt and merely remakred upon, it’s the quiet acceptance of whatever decisions were made elsewhere. And that’s where dissatisfication lives, or at least a part of it. 

That’s a Wrap

by MAÔ, posted in Thoughts

Just finished up my first semester as a teacher. Mr. Osowski. Quite a surprise, but in the year that’s been it makes a kind of sense. 

I enjoyed it, too. High school drama class, where mostly we worked on improvisations and acting techniques. I suppose that I would have liked more time with my class. 

However, given the journey to come over the next months, I couldn’t stay. I’m hopeful that once I get settled I’ll be able to teach again. 

Thinking back to how I began doing theatre, I would have never imagined being a drama teacher. But I did it. 

Bring on whatever’s next!

Everything Changes

by MAÔ, posted in Theatre

We replace our bodies every 28 days, or something like that. I don’t recall the exact maxim that tells how the cells in our bodies die and are reborn. But every month or so I guess we are a new creature, yet the same. 

I think of this after reading the New York Times article on the cast of Hamilton having an impromptu talkback with Vice-President elect Mike Pence. I have no problem with it, for the record.

Still I found myself getting agitated. Not at the political landscape, which is bad enough. But at the change in how I view theatre. It used to be my passion. My joy-bringer. Now I feel sad thinking about it. 

For several years I was a working actor, but after this past year the wind of my theatrical sails was sucked out. I don’t know if they’ll ever catch wind again. Which leaves me wondering, what am I going to do now?

Welcome to the New Age

by MAÔ, posted in Thoughts

Sitting in a hospital lobby now. My brother is sick, having surgery. I’ve been sitting with him for a couple hours, with my mother and our other brother. It’s weird seeing him attached to tubes and oxygen. But he’s a strong guy, and only in his forties, so I have no doubts as to successful recovery. 

A lot of things are going on. There’s the election for one. I could devote several posts to just that, and it seems likely that I will. Also my spiritual discovery, which has been both continual and stilted, depending on the day. Upcoming travels, figuring out my relationship issues and teaching. my day-to-day.

I hope to become more diligent with my writing, but I thought I would participate in NaNoWriMo and that has been consuming a great deal of my time these past two weeks. I’m short of my 25,000 word count mark for today, the half-way point in November, but the concept is a fully fleshed-out novel and I’m optimistic about finishing in time. 

That’s all for today I think. Back to waiting for surgery to be over. Take care.