We Stop Looking Once We Find It

We Stop Looking Once We Find It. Look at me, having accountability :). 2 days, in a row, that is unheard of for me.

Today, on my morning coffee talk, I told my usual dad joke after saying, “I have nothing profound to say.” Ironically, the joke itself became what was actually my words of wisdom for the day.

The joke was as follows: “Why is it when we are looking for something that it is always in the last place we look? The answer is because we stop looking once we find it.”

So apply that to life is to realize when you stop searching the answer will come. To be at peace with whatever is meant to be for you will simply find you.

Evan I am writing these words, I received a phone call and was needing to look for something. It was in the last pile of paper I needed to touch, on the bottom. The answer was once again when I stopped looking. Okay spirit, I am listening. We stop looking once we find it.

That in itself being my words of wisdom for you, today.

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Mental Health Is Good Too

Me in my element

I once again find myself taking a walk with the lyrics to a song that is driving the movement in my legs. The destination, being nature, that brings a calm to my soul. I sit near the lake’s edge and the tip of the pen, on the paper writing the words my heart and mind.

In the early morning hours, this place, sets the tone of my day. I return multiple times a day, in order to reconnect with myself when it feels smothered by every day life. It becomes a release from the anxieties of my crazed mind and the unease of human kind, in this world.

Mental Health

Lately, I have stopped sharing my light with you thinking, I do not need to continue once life is how it is supposed to be. Another lesson, or fault I’m realizing I need to be more disciplined about. The light has become non-existent to those that may need just the small amount I provide to continue to have hope. I stopped practicing. Just because my life is presenting, as so much good it should not mean my work does not need to continue.

The stigma with mental health is not necessarily seen as positive, but why? There are always opposite sides to the spectrum, in order for the other side to exist. Whether that is good or bad. We see it, as a struggle for one’s own sanity. However, we need sanity to have insanity. Life is about the balance of your own universe.

Life has been so good for me, as of yet. An aspect I preach on the daily because I stopped focusing on what I did not have and realized what I do have and the rest fell into place. My own new found balances contributing to my own happiness. The work that I had put into balancing my own scales.

A feeling equal to a melody of a song sitting just right with the beat bringing a smile to your face. The song will eventually end and then it becomes a fight to hold onto the joy you just felt. The answer found within you, as the melody did in the song.

Therefore, in order to continue to have the joy, happiness, comfort and inner peace you can not just stop making your own melodies and expect for life to continue being as it should. I’m thankful for the recognition, so that my own light does not disappear as the sun goes down. I just have to take a different approach to the changes that happen, on the daily. Otherwise, there is the potential my own joy and happiness may once again leave, as quickly as it came in.

I no longer have to balance my life by fighting the demons of my own thoughts. Now, it is all about living with those demons, in conjunction with the joy and happiness. The balance between good and evil.

Mental Health

So, yes, if it takes going on the same walk multiple times a day hours after I just did, then that is what I have to do. Do not discount the power of your own choice to set your mood. If it takes sitting by the lake with nature recording every single thought I have to control my own inner tides then I have to do it without excuses. This allows me to ride the wave. The allows me to enjoy life. This is why life is so good.

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I put a lot of pressure on myself to provide so much detail to the simplest of things in life. I will stop trying to be perfect for myself and accept so much more than I do. I will keep this short. I realize that I sometimes give out some good advice that is beneficial to not just myself. Here is my advice for whomever is meant to hear it.

“Things that we consider a “success,” in life take practice. We do not always have to be perfect the first time or after the 1000th. It just means you have not experienced that lesson to be able to practice, yet.” -me 05/05/2020

Have an amazing day!

Say Something

I have an insecurity that haunts me. That is having direct conversation with people and having to speak. The space can change, but the result stays the same. Face time, direct conversation, on the phone, web conferencing all different settings, my insecurity remaining.

When it comes to my distaste for talking, on the phone, for many years, I could blame on self -torture of picking career choices that involve speaking, on a phone all day for years. Therefore, the last thing I ever want to do is talk on the phone more. You become bitter easily, after countless years of the emotional abuse directed AT you from com complete strangers. I must be crazy. Giving your own PTSD, if you do have a personal phone conversation. I can count the years, but I am unable to count the many times when I could use the bathroom was controlled, by a phone status. Ironically, my speech impediments don’t appear, over the phone.

I always have wondered if I sometimes spoke in such a way that was confusing to most. Maybe, I am odd. I also know that my thoughts come much quicker than I can speak. I struggle with “S” words. I know I mumble and my voice being lower. Believe it or not, I was unaware I had a lisp until it was pointed out to me a few years ago. I don’t know if I should be thanking those for not point it out until then.

Face Time and web conferencing go hand and hand, with direct conversation for me and what my irrational mind thinks is torture. I only Face Timed for the first time, this year. I can’t read you, if I can’t feel you. The moment someone looks at me, I want to retreat. It is so uncomfortable. I am caught in my cycle what people are looking at when they are speaking to me. A drill sergeant, in my face, would paralyze me. Its purpose working. Any direct conversation, heightening my insecurities of even talking, at all. Something taking over and telling me I was not cut out for streaming.

Maybe, it is in my head. Maybe, it is my partner, Mary Jane. Just like I was saying, a phrase can change to a verb the moment it has a negative connotation. Maybe I am just afraid to speak and would rather say it on paper. You can’t hear a lisp through reading. You don’t read a stutter or mumble. You can’t hear me hide.

However, you will have my full eye contact, attention and a dash of confidence, if I trust you. Have you looked into my eyes? Have you seen me confident when speaking to me? Few can say this. Maybe, I’m only meant to understand and to everyone else I’m just out there.


Sunday mornings for me have always been that day to meditate over music and coffee. These days, given the certain state of 2020, I more frequently am able to have more of these days, but the do not bare the same effect, as Sundays.

I lie wide awake before the sun has rotated enough to shine light, on the morning. I am mostly lost, in the abyss, of the assembly line of thoughts being produced by the conscious mind.

These are the moments I am usually telling myself to put this shit down on paper and ignoring the request, just as quickly. This Sunday is different because I’m lost, in my IMAGINATION.

The lyrics are meant to be heard

in these moments of silence

Bringing the sense of comfort

long overdue

I am listening this time

not interrupting

I hear the feeling

not through my ears

The pen hitting the paper

giving advice

My mind clear and open

without the worry

The bee keeper feeling the vibration of the bee

The silence golden


What does one really mean by the phrase, “letting go?” Is it choosing to no longer care about something? Is it no longer bringing attention to it? Is it choosing to forget? Is it choosing to disappear from? Is it just releasing something?

If you start thinking about it then it no longer becomes recognizable as a phrase. It becomes a verb. I’ve made it relatable, why wouldn’t you? I will tell you why, its because of our fucking memories and experiences. It brings on the thoughts of recognition. It no longer allowing you to let go because you thought about it. Making the phrase “letting go,” never real in the first place.



At least I am able to have another excuse to start a new. We are in a new month. A new retrograde. I get my full moon on the 7th.

In truth, there are no more excuses. I should have been posting, regardless of how I have been feeling That in itself, the repeating pattern I’ve come so accustomed to.

It frustrates me. Another reassurance my own mind is the problem. I’m creating. This crazy pattern that causes the extra anxiety. The pattern that controls ” the thoughts that never end. Yes, they come on and on, my friends. Some people started seeing them, not knowing what was wrong with me. They’ll continue to see the crazy because…..

” …………..”

Happy May Day! Go enjoy some flowers with the bees.

Keeping Me Alive

Trying a new path as I fight through the fog

Learning to navigate with the little light there is

Sensing only that is in front of me

Me-April 24,2020

Keeping me alive, every time I make a conscious choice to better my life. That is how I see this now. It has not mattered how or why I was going through some type of experience, in my life. This is a perception that has only change, as of late. I did not think I was doing it, but I still remained playing a victim of now I see as my journey through life, as I know it.

One aspect, I have never waivered on was faith. I don’t know where it came from. I don’t know how I kept it going or even if I had a miniscule amount of control on it. It just was. The only stability, in what, I would once not long ago refer to as my chaos. The uncontrolled natural disaster I called, my life.

No wonder, my ego and misery stayed where it was at. Look where my focus and attention was. It was always about what I didn’t have. I never once looked at what I did have. I never saw a perspective of preference in an impossible situation.

Keeping me alive, every time I make a conscious choice to better my life

I am so grateful for just now. Nothing more or nothing less, just as is. I can’t look that far into the future any longer because I just blinked and it already changed. It is not about seeing. It is about feeling. Actually, having the emotion. The once aspect I am a professional at. I am referring being a professional “feeler.” I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about it because it allowed me to find love for the world again and most importantly, it allowed me to find that blind faith that I now see guided me to the now.

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I Don’t Know

Photo by Mitchell Luo on Pexels.com

I am in an interesting point internally

Any questions asked greeted by the shrugging of the shoulders

How are you? *shrugs*

Are you hungry? *shrugs*

I am neither good nor bad

I just am

A heartbeat going stagnant

I am not questioning nor do I have answers

My feelings and emotions have flatlined


I just am


The Universe

If I was writing this traditionally, then you may say over the past few weeks I have had writer’s block. I attempted to explain, in a post last week. My journey recently has taken me on a different path. I used the metaphor of a tree branch. It is not expected for anyone to understand, but myself.

I am not a traditional writer. I am not a traditional blogger. Therefore, I would not experience the traditional writer’s block. When you are reading my words you are reading my journal entries. You are reading an experience of feelings that I may be dealing with. You are reading my emotions. Therefore, in order for me to have those words for you to read I have to have feelings and emotions driving me to make a journal entry.

For some, you may be reading this for entertainment purposes only, but my intentions are far from. I write to heal, using skills and actions I am learning along the way. I am on my crusade to find my tree branch I am to grow with or the path I am meant to travel. You are not meant to understand, but a hope for you to find your own relation to your own life, experiences, feelings and emotions. I have not written in 17 days because, somewhere in between, my own feelings became lost into my own subconscious. My own journey. I could use a negative description and say I am having an emotion block, but it is not negative. It is another lesson. My own soul requiring further research.

In no way, does that mean, I have not been writing. In no way, has my drive lessened. In no way, have I not been creating. It just means that my current path for myself is just on the opposite of the tree to your view. There will be a medium for us both, but I have not quite found it yet, but I am trying.

The only explanation that may resonate is if you have ever been a new anti-depressant. You are in the period of the first 30 days having to fight the side effects as they arise. What usually happens with these medications, when the enzymes start attaching to the receptors of the brain your subconscious starts having an internal battle with your conscious mind. When this occurs, the only normal you find is the automatic functions of the brain. Everything else, GONE! You have no feelings. You have no emotions. There isn’t a desire for anything. You are mush. Might as well be receiving shock therapy while massive amounts of drool seeps from your mouth. You are not able to escape because, in order for western medicine to believe that their chemicals created for profit, are either working or not working, you have to hold out through this insanity for the full 30 days. I am at this period, currently, without the medication. I just am. I am neither here nor there. I am not up or down. I could be going left or right. I am not leaning towards black or white. I am grey.

Again, I don’t expect any understanding, other than within my own self. Again, this is my own journal. I hope when writing it down that it itself would be a feeling or an emotion. I am sitting back observing. I am sitting back learning. I am sitting back and listening. I am good. I invite you to do the same and only then will you find your calm.