I don’t want to talk politics, especially being in Florida where POTUS started his reelection campaign this past night. And I don’t want to speak about religion. I just want peace and quiet. I don’t have a cross to bare. I just want to hibernate like a bear in the presence of a cross.
The sanctity of worship doesn’t have to inhabit every soul at every minute. It can be a source of relief to the noise, inside and out, the grind that doesn’t involve caffeine and the dreams that still have not come true. It can be in the here and now, in the moment, in the solitude with no interference and can have four corners and not wheels stuck in traffic for one hour, one way.
People are repelled if I suggest just approaching the aisle without touching shoulders with a congregation. We do not have to talk and we do not have to communicate. We just need to breath, to decompose and to put our deviousness down as well as the devices that cause such consternation. It acts as the safe haven to the feelings of self and others. Why does there have to be motive?
The reason is, I want to go somewhere that gives me the freedom of non expression that relieves me non-atomically. Especially now that the library has limited hours.
My Father instilled the beauty in the morning by having a escort service ready for me at 6am, weekdays and weekends. The escort service consisted of two pianos, one richly played authoritatively by him and the novice that was me.
We would simultaneously play, usually to selected lessons that never involved the gorging of the subject but the sampling that required repeated tutelage. He was an expert teacher who guided children like me to a better place both artistically and emotionally. Art was very important growing up, and my Father instilled that love early and often.
Happy Father’s Day to the ones shaping the lives that dream every minute and execute every day.
The eyes of Kawhi Leonard, showing the calm of a diplomat and the fearlessness of a champion twice over, in two different conferences, collecting two series MVP trophies.
Stephen Curry, with the resignation of his teammate and Splash Brother Klay Thompson falling awkwardly and tearing his ACL.
Sarah Sanders, somehow locating the truth in announcing her departure.
Donald Trump, never locating the truth, somehow.
George Stephanopoulos, racing to clarify the colluding confusion but holding back and letting POTUS stumble over himself.
All Fathers, falling asleep to the US Open.
In South Florida, the workout is not determined by the electrical currents used but how many rip currents are made. #sobehotel #summer #southflorida
Everybody knows his name. And everybody knows his game. The initial crowd reaction from the loudest bowels, to Kevin Durant’s injury on the court during game 5 in Toronto, was abhorrent. The cheers to the befallen was disgraceful. For what we are spoon fed about Canadians in the media, it was clearly unexpected. But the media has also fed fans, rightly or wrongly, on the perception of sensitivity with passive aggressive tendencies with Durant. And fanatics don’t like those apparent unseemly negative aspects of his character and they had a chance to lash out.
Jordan never spoke out of turn. Magic always flashed his smile. But for every Larry Bird, there was a Kareem, a Lebron, and a Durant. who show emotions beyond the quote. To protect the richness of opinion to the point of using burner accounts. But this is not a new development in the landscape of the NBA. Kareem Abdul Jabbar was never afraid of breaking bread with strong personalities that defined societal realms. Lebron James has taken the media in his own hands, making a production conglomerate to espouse the visions of his heart and circle.
The fans cheering the befallen Kevin Durant last night were not happy for the perceived outcome of victory for the Raptors. It was an expression of negativity toward a superstar who is rich in talent, dollars, vanity, opinions, and emotions. And those are many qualities misunderstood to jealous people in the stands who are unable or incapable to be blessed with so much.
This was a Linkedin post, positioning the benefits of taking time to adjust from a jobless period and to smell the roses. As with petals, the post was silky smooth and viral with a message that most can relate to. But getting past the fact of the initial sentence of being let go from a job because of “circumstances beyond my control” stopped me in my tracks.
I have been summarily dismissed from a couple of jobs and, although the situations were different, the attitude was the same from my perspective. I had control but chose not to use it one and chose to use it in another. Both ended up with the same conclusion.
My attitude for the first scenario was the control I exhibited, but not in the right way. I did not care for the company, nor the business practices, and for not many of people I shared work hours with. I had become disillusioned and lacked motivation. I put in a honest days work but without shine, without the chance of improvement for my employer or myself. And we parted.
The other employer was control in another facet. I was tired of the my given assignment (accounts payable and receivable) and asked to branch out to another facet of the business. It did not work but I had control. Sometimes conclusions to not go to the runner. But the question is did you run hard to first base?
I ran at different speeds in each instance but I had control in each circumstance. I believe you always control. If you are unable to believe this, then a long look in the mirror is needed.
What are the roadblocks that cross our paths at predestined times or the unexpected? In the form of paperwork that magically appears or bills that come due or that relationship that is always off, working or personal? No, if the roadblock is not in the rearview mirror when it occurs, then it is always the person in doubt.
The problems coming our way are forcibly handed to us, with no lack of fortitude. They are destined to become the situation we deal with. And that we must, without emotion or worry of consequence. It is by action that we survive and thrive and never look back.
The Kawhi tangent? He suffers an injury that is harmful to his career. He takes ownership and makes his own decision on how his body should move forward. Although there are many doubters, within his team’s organization, with the fanatics, with the media, he stays steadfast, true to himself. Does it always end up later raising a trophy? No, but Kawhi is a mythical player.
Everybody is mythical once they take control of their unique powers and use them accordingly. The shine of the enlightened soul relieves the darkness of it’s negative predilection.
Kawhi Leonard is a mythical basketball player. His name suggests as such and the body shouts it from the rafters of all time greats. His hands have been compared to spider webs, clinging only to the prey of the basketball and not mere mortals. He is not ball dominant, unlike most MVPs before him; he defers to decoy status many more moments than most would allow. All of that feeds to his legendary calm.
When I swim, my body freaks out initially. Air is hard to come by like a honest thought on the POTUS twitter feed. It is neurotic, it is annoying, and it goes away after more time in the water. Leonard does not to seem to have anything resembling a moment with the slightest trepidation. The air is never received by gasping but more infused by the energy that draws toward him. It is that grace and confidence that has shown its arachnid hand over and over during this Toronto Raptor run that will likely result in a championship.
Winning begs attention and summons the questions of the inquisitive who want to win and/or win more. That is what band-wagoners crave along with the notoriety of associating themselves to winning. The hows, the whats, and the Kawhis, to borrow a painfully inadequate pun.
Adopting the calm is long the goal that has alluded my grasp thus far. Kawhi Leonard the the mythical player provides a puzzle piece that brings that ship eventually to the port of rectitude.
When it’s the back nine in one’s life, it should not be referred as winter. Instead, the season of content as the end nears should be the time that brings comfort away from shelter and the obstruction of chaotic interruptions. Fortunately June is upon us and summer is here.
In South Florida, the trade off of getting out of the house also threatens to sequester us in the confines of the confined. So, the pledge is every day that hurricane gust winds to not threaten the tranquility of body and mind, each step outside is a victory. And with that step should be an additional paddle, because the water beckons as well as cures.
Swimming should be a prioritized event to anybody living in South Florida. If you don’t know how, learn. If you do not like it, grin and bear it. And if the heavens have blessed you with the inspired feeling of accomplish, embrace it for all it is worth. And the exertion in the mind will quickly be a thing in the past.
More to follow, more to glean, but for now my mind is clean.
#summer #southflorida #sobehotel