New Drive

Stopping for a minute, no pressure on SELF.  At all.

The act of being, more than enough.  Renewing, teaching, and lifting all parcels of my Personhood to wherever it needs to be.

Friday…. But it doesn’t matter.  I’m content without a named days.  Truly.  Seeing right now as something so meaningful and layered and telling that I need to stop and record it.

No destination, only The Road.  The travel.  Idea to idea, possibility to possibility, dream to dream which will not much long remain merely dreams.

Listening to music in the office, here at home.  The peace is pronounced differently.  Like something teaching me that what I did before this wasn’t at all wrong.  It was meant and purposeful, that I’m not necessarily solo on this Road.

All my teaching days were Kerouac was cited and emphasized now barrel from those past scenes, encircling me next to these guitars my fiancee has had on the wall since long before I was anywhere in her Story.

Time, somewhat of a scary ingredient, but it shouldn’t be.  One stop, then more Road.

I stop again, but not for any prolonged pause.  No arrival, no departing, just the movement.  MY, music.  Beat if you would, comfortable and lifting.  Not out for any milestones, or any “deliverables”, a term I’ve come to loathe….  No permission slip or sign-off to feel this way and simply enjoy the day.

Observe all of it, record whatever I get to recording.  Cadeau, right where I now type.  This room, the guitars, the LoFi I have on the other desk softly spilling from the other laptop.

How is this my life?  Why and how and who chose me to be this Beatified?

Stop overthinking, stop thinking there needs to be some analysis.  Just keep driving.

New meaning, purpose, Road, no exits.