sunday, somber sunday.

woke up in a lazy blur. the first night all week I didn’t fall asleep at 60 miles an hour. a hunk of spirit in a hunk of flesh in a hunk of metal jetting down a sea of concrete. light polluted. neon signs that stay on all night. burning. each offer to fill some want. I look over at…who’s driving this time? what town is this? each night without fail, I’d wake up thinking I was back on the Big Island. I know I said this before, but wow. the calling is so intense. I look out on the city wondering where all the living things are. where do things grow here? I feel sorry for the trees. I try to rationalize. This is just the way of things. Walking past the same stores with the same tiny plastic packages with the same synthetic sugars. Pretty poisons.

In my heart I feel so good. But in my spirit there is a gentle sorrow for the way of things. I wish we could just dream a new world with our minds. One where the abundance of the land is how we measure wealth. Where a man can be considered rich by his works and not by his property. I don’t care to own anything but my actions. Good and bad. For all the darkness I’ve seen and created, I simply acknowledge it like an old bar. Yes. I’ve been here before. Yes. I knew you well. Driving through all these towns where I used to spend so much time. It’s nice to be back with new eyes. A new perspective on who I was. Affirmations of who I am now. It’s nice to grow. To know that I don’t need to define myself by anything. By the judgements of others, or by the judgements I attach to myself. We were driving back from Sioux Falls at 3AM and talking as a band about how convoluted our self image can be sometimes. Judging ourselves based off of a judgement at how others judge us. A veil covered by a veil covered by veil. Behind all that we’re the same. Stardust and spirit in bodies running off of sentient molecules. Benevolent bacteria. Manifestations of ego experiencing this paradigm of needs, fears, wants, and desire.

Looking back on how far we’ve come. From building great lasting monuments of stone to tenements of particle board and sheetrock. From reaching to the stars to reaching for our credit cards. I walk around and look at a thousand lonely people. Another thousand self absorbed with their cell phones and wallets and incessant desire for money and I just wonder how the heck we’re supposed to get our heads on straight. Walking around these college campuses. Looking at the orange flesh of these poor girls, burning their skin, covering their faces in chemical paints to fill this sense of beauty that came from where? Wandering through the streets of what is supposed to be a place of learning. Streets littered with beer cans and smashed bottles. Judgement beaming from unfocused eyes and wild thoughtless yelling. Alleys ringing with the aimless battle cry of our drunk youth. It’s like looking in a mirror when I catch someone in the eyes, I want to grab them and let them know it’s ok. They don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be more than this. We are more than this.

But I just smile. I answer drunken questions about my hair and try to be patient and nice. I calmly explain why I just kissed that tree or why I’m not wearing shoes and just keep my head up.

Keep my head up. Stay open. Try to give love and healing in presence. I try to apply any judgement I make to myself first. For any ignorance, or arrogance, or negligence, or hostility I can see in someone else, just like those old bars-

I know I’ve been there before.