Journeys, Stories, and a Book I Don't Have

This may be my favorite time of the day.  Everyone is asleep and I am alone.  I am tired but alone.  It's quiet and I can think without interruption.  It becomes meditative for me.  When I was younger I hated to be alone.  Now, I tend to enjoy it. I've had a headache all day.  It hasn't gone away.  Headaches and bouts of insomnia.  I'm glad I haven't had one of those lately.  Headaches are bad enough, but they usually are accompanied by the latter.  

I want to tell you a story but I can't think of any.  Stories are good.  My father would tell me bedtime stories at least once a week and he would tuck me into bed every night.  Our kids don't like to be tucked in.  Isaac is really too young to be tucked in, I suppose.  My dad's favorite story was almost utterly pointless when I think of it today.  It was about three house plants that were journeying to see where the sun slept at night.  They were great.  He would make them up as he went along.  Maybe this is where my love of journeying comes from.  I love the idea of journeys or that life is a journey or that we are all on a journey.  Where are we all going?  It makes no sense.  Maybe that is why some meditations put so much focus on the "now", as it were... Because we are so busy worrying about where we are going that we never take the time out to enjoy where we are.

That is one thing that really can frustrate me:  People constantly telling me what they have to do next.  Honestly, I rarely care about what I have to do next let alone what you have to do next.  Sometimes I just want to sit down and enjoy the moment.  My friend Rob is good at that.  A lot of people don't like him, but he's okay in my book.  He likes to think and talk about what he thinks about and I appreciate that.  Whether or not I agree with him, sometimes I just like to sit and have him talk about what he is thinking about.   I don't really have a book where I write down who is okay with me and who isn't and I have yet to meet anyone with a ten-foot-pole they use for not touching things.  

Sometimes I think it would be cool to have a small flat and be involved in the art scene of some city.  I wonder what I would do for money.  I wonder what I'd do with my family.   I think the kids would go nuts.  I really want a small, messy apartment that would be my office and I would sleep there.  I don't think my wife would appreciate that.  She may if it meant I wasn't messing up her house.  I've decided with this blog, in the spirit of "in the moment" and "journeys" that I am not going to edit it or censor myself.  I will type and what comes out, comes out.  I'm not going to go back and re-read it.  When you are tired mistakes happen anyways and I am almost always tired.  Maybe I should ask my doctor about it.  Maybe something is wrong with me.  

My sister once told me I was smart.  That was the dumbest thing she ever did.