Check In!

Do it. Check in. When was the last time? I don't know what it would look like for you but if you end up telling a nurse on a scale of 1 to 10, you may have waited too long.

This space seems to be where I check in these days. A young man once wrote "There's a sweetness to the happiness of the one who's seen the world, like when Leeloo saves the world even though it's cruel to her." That kid was me. I was trying to express my respect for those who've been to hell and back, and still have something positive to offer. That was two decades ago. Today is the first day of 2020, and I know now that I have always been the person am I writing for. Even my most earnest attempts to communicate to the world around me are still broadcasting from a remote location. Powerful modes of expression seemed like my only hope at being heard. 

Writing songs has always been a sort of shamanism, for me at least. When I needed to get up off my ass, I wrote a song called Get Up Off It. Songwriting was a way of checking in, come to think of it. Yet, how often did I write a song? When was a song considered written? When is a song done? By the time you arrive at an answer, you may be telling a nurse on a scale of 1 to 10 and I assure you, it is a disappointing experience in comparison. 

If you ever get to a point where you feel you need to refer to a blog post or song lyrics in order to answer a simple question, you know you took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.