*Unedited, unfinished and unrefined, but posted to gather ideas*
The distant fog horns are drowned out be BART trains departing for opposite destinations as I lie in bed with my destination unknown. I wake up stretch and rip off the last 3 pages of my daily zen one a day calendar. "Everything is simple, everything is not unless it is, but it isn't" It might as well be. I dust off the dirt from my jeans I wore from the previous day where an over ambitious Golden Retriever pounced his muddy paws on my tattered jeans. His owner called him back after I was malled with enthusiasm and hope of throwing the ball down the subtle incline for him to vehemently chase after. Without complaint I brushed off my pants only to muddy my hand. Today would be similar as the fog turns to mist and the pants are still have an earthy toned crust to them. I left the house in a hurry as the shower was silently occupied for a moment too long for me to wait for a shower and a proper start to my day. A fleeting ambition and desire to write in my favorite coffee shop, a slight inclination that I might end up at the one down the block that has superior coffee but worse ambiance. I drove past the competition first, tempted by their pristine espresso but ultimately determined to go to the destination where I frequent when times are dreary. No job, no money...but for some reason I've never been happier. Maybe its the prospect of an ideal that I have dedicated my life, and is now manifesting itself. Maybe its the love and support from my best friend who turned lover and is still my best friend. Maybe its the inspiration from my newly acquired zen one a day calendar, or as my lover would say, "It is what it is." Maybe its not.
I sit here typing this narrative with the ambition to write a poem about the foggy day and the BART trains. Driving over the bay bridge in non awkward silence listening to NPR on a precise low volume where one cannot hear what they drone on talking about. The distinctive drone of whole hearted voice pounds your inner soul as you make out the D's and S's at the end of his words. Just like that word, words. Say it slow and focus on your annunciation and really pronounce the end of these and those words. Words that drone into distance and distinction of subtle yet unique times that manifest themselves into something glorious, divinity.
Later that evening he talks about God with a leader of a Christian church who seems to have an understanding of theology and spirituality that fits the bill of this century. Amazing. I arrive back at my house and stay in my car to hear what the man has to say about God, Love and Compassion and am ultimately satisfied with what i have heard to neither make an opinion or disagree--which for me is quite an accomplishment. The knowledge is out there, but he says that we, as humans, cannot comprehend it--which, if there is any solace to sitting in my car those extra minutes, inspires me to prove him wrong.