What a glorious day. Spring is here, the leaves have come out on nearly all of the trees. The view from my window is a gorgeous sea of green. The breeze gives the new leaves a music to dance to while I sit in my window. I have missed my home city of Eugene and am quite glad to be back from vacation. My visit with my nephews and nieces and cousins and uncles and grandmothers and sister and dad was wonderful and I loved seeing them. Yet I missed my city, missed the things that makes me… “me”. The browsing of bookshelves for a copy of some book (latest addition, Saturday morning bought a $6 copy of Listening to Prozac). The temperature is quite warm, it feels like it is the lower/mid 70’s though the weather page says high 60’s.
I took a walk down the street to check out a new fly fishing shop. Yesterday I unpacked my car, cleaned it up, and donated it to the local charity (but I get a tax write-off, so I am not a complete saint). I took out my fly reels and line and fies and such, but did not see the rods. I had been thinking they were kept in my car along with my tent and other equipment. I then looked around my apartment and was unable to find my fly rods. I was so irritated I could have chewed nails. But today I was feeling wonderful (how can a person not feel wonderful on a Spring day such as this?) and remarked to myself on more than one occaision how I had missed Spring. It is quite possible that I might have a vehicle (something I can put a trailer hitch onto) in two – four weeks and while I was passing by an area with the thick smell of pine and flowers in the air, I could easily imagine smelling the same scents high up in the mountains. The thought of getting out onto a river before dawn and watching the sun come up while fly fishing a quiet mountain stream made me giddy. The fly shop was closed (this being Sunday) and I walked down toward Hollywood Video. I rented three movies, A River Runs Through It (I’ve not seen it and fly fisherman I’ve talked to love the movie), Chocolat, and The Last Temptation of Christ. Unfortunately, Amelie, which I orded on-line 12 days ago, has not yet made it to me.
On the way home I stopped by The Sweet Life Patisserie (is that how it is spelled?) and grabbed a plain latte. I wanted something with milk in it for my stomach. Inside I read the framed newspaper ad about the owners of the little bakery and thought of my current plans. I have a plan forming in my mind, an idea, and again, as I am so often, I am amazed at how little things in life, seemingly unconnected things, tend to come about in accordance with what a person dreams of (really, honestly dreams of in the deepest regions of their heart). As our mind’s perception seeks out stimuli according to subconscious rules of filtering (example, the cocktail party effect – see cognition and perception), I wonder (again) if perhaps the scripts of our lives owe a lot to the secret wants and desires of our hearts. The question comes to mind, how common it must be to want failure and disappointment in life. This isn’t too odd of a thought, for in my own experience with depression I have noted that one of the agents keeping my self depressed was my own desire to be depressed. Another cross thread is sexual attraction. I’ve noted repeatedly within myself how I am immensely attracted to someone and fight battles of control within myself over the matter, and I get to a point where I can feel the threshold of the choice… that should I make the choice to let it go the desire does so. Sometimes I’ve let it go and I have had no other problems with such desires, other times I do not want to let it go and so the dynamics continue. This is not to say that this is the only dynamic involved, only a piece of the puzzle for me.
Back to my point. I am thinking over a plan, a series of ideas and events that might lead me along a much more desired path. No time to go into it now, for the wind is blowing outside, the trees are dancing, and my balcony is calling for me to drink my mocha outside.