For the first time since unemployment became a reality, the nerves have settled in just a bit. It's now been about 2 1/2 months without that steady check, and up until now, I have treasured this time off. I've had the time to venture around Northern California, spend tons of time with N, listen to and discover music, write, take pictures, head out on day trips, and on and on. I've learned a heck of a lot about myself in these ten weeks, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have had this time. I've always wanted this time off to go through a little self discovery, and it's been one of the most rewarding experiences in years.
But the reality of this economy is starting to take shape in my head. Despite this knowledge, my internal voice has been at ease during this time. I've considered where I want to be in the coming years. Do I want to remain in San Francisco? Is it time to start my own thing? Is it all possible to make it as a writer? Does my writing suck? Perhaps I'll teach? Back to school? How can I get into a non-profit? Is it at all possible to remain in music and maintain my integrity? My mind has been swirling of late.
On my day trip to Stinson Beach and Muir Woods yesterday, I found myself standing beside a creek, alone, in the quiet, as a light rain dropped. And I continued to stand there. And I realized everything, yet nothing at the same time. I looked at the green, the water, the yellow leaves and the fog. I realized how damn lucky I was to be in that exact spot.
But today, as I read more and more about impending economic doom, the reality of this all began to set in. As I continue on my search of where I'm heading, and I truly believe that I'm making advances on the search, the financial concerns began to creep in. I sat at my computer and felt as though I needed to figure things out now. I mean, I have personal plans for this coming year and into 2010, and those plans will require cash. And not just cash for food, shelter and the occasional Neil Young release.
As my mind was bouncing around, one track ended and then came Wilco's cover of "The TB is Whipping Me" (I think it's a cover?) and in a moment it all washed away. I sat here and realized that I couldn't possibly have more. I thought of that creek yesterday. And I though of N's smile the moment I saw her today. And I thought of the moving conversation I had with a friend today. And then "James Alley Blues" came on and I found myself singing along.
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