Saturday, August 7, 2010

take a bight

Sometimes I get my head so far up my work and worry,
I forget about all the cool stuff to do and see around Key West. (well, in my case, it's not so much worry - I've been up to the plate a few times so there aren't as many curve balls life can throw at me that I haven't seen before - but I have been known to work non-stop for weeks at a time)
Anyway, maybe that happens to you too.

It didn't happen as much when I was living a half block from the bight on William Street, it couldn't. . .
I'd hear Barry Cuda honky tonkin' on his piano at B.O's Fishwagon on Friday nights from my front porch; or saxman Marty Stonely (sorry, no website) on Sundays at Schooner Wharf jammin' reggae and calypso.
The music always drew me in and in the time it took to get to my feet, walk that half block singing the chorus of "Three Little Birds", I'd be there knowing. . .
"every little ting gonna be alright"
.

But now, living over here under the flight path on the cemetery side of town, it's a little different. The rousing sounds are the roar the jet engines passing overhead (but I don't get inspired to go to the airport) and when I finally do remember to get my dose of live music, it's an easy 15 minute walk; just enough time run "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" in my head while I take it.

What brought all this up for me was talking with a buddy who said that this "bullsh*t economy" had him working so much this past year that he hadn't been out on his boat for months and, did I see on T.V. Goldman Sachs this and
Obama Care that. . .

He raved on for a while and I wondered, privately, how a guy working so much made time for watching so much television.
"I'm telling you man", he continued "I'm so beat at the end of the days it's all I can do to crash in front of the tube with a brew at night." (. . .oh, that's how)

So I'm thinking, work all day everyday and then some at a job you don't like and worry that the ends still won't really meet and then let the 24 hour T.V. talking heads badger you 'til bedtime with crisis and chaos and an Afghan girl with her nose cut off.
That's a life you live, maybe, in New Jersey; but here?
In paradise?

So what's the fix?
I'm guessing the details are different for everyone and for sure, we all need to take care of business but the broad-stroke, at least for me is first, don't take it all so seriously (face it, in 100 years we'll all be dead), then relax and remember who you are and where you came from.
Make a list of the things that lighten your heart, bring peace to your mind and pleasure to your body.
Lay it all out on the table in front of you, your true ground of being, embrace it with all your love and take a bight.

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