You may say that I’m a dreamer but I’m not the only one… I was never meant to be a sailor, I was born under the zodiac sign of cancer, a waterbaby, now a waterman. One fateful day the tides turned foul, my limp body rolled through the massive surf like a rag doll, that was the day I died as a surfer and was reborn a sailor. Floating on the surface I watched divers searching for that cold blue body, I specifically remember looking down from the surface of the ocean and thinking oh shit that poor bastard is dead, it was me I was watching.
My first car was a 1968 VW van, it was also my first house. That old blue hunk of… was the epicenter of my world, I was Just a child but a freeman none the less. Topanga, Malibu, Rincon, the Wedge, Trestles, Blacks and everywhere in between. Perfect sunsets and dawn patrol ruled my life, there were no clocks, darkness and light turned my sun dial. I look exactly the same now as I did as a sixteen year old surf bum. Sun kissed skin, bleached sandy blond hair locked in tight ringlets, salt crusted skin and that look in my deep blue eyes that is always searching for the next big Wednesday.
Once you’ve experienced the true power of the ocean everything else pales in comparison. Sitting at the edge of dry land I curl my toes and dig them into the sand staring across the horizon always wondering how big it all is, the vastness of the universe pales in comparison to what lies out there in this big blue marble called our mind. Like everything in life for every door that closes another one opens, be it surfing or love and anything or everything inbetween. Accepting change is the hardest thing we fragile humans can experience in this world. It scares the shit out of me, makes me unsure of myself and it hurts from a place so deep inside of me I’ve yet to discover the location of its origin.
Guardian angels are real and I have many scattered across this earth, some close enough to touch. I’m nestled in my perch pecking away on my iPad, the light in Sookie is pleasing, the temperature is just right, the music stirs my soul, my glass of wine is full and a beautifuly rolled joint is sitting waiting patiently for me; this is my real job. I’m suppose to be drafting a screen play about a particular time in my life but I’m not, my constant fear of success has me idly writing about nothing, for no reason, my specialty.
Tonight I was given a book that made my eyes tear up. I read it cover to cover in the blink of an eye, it just may have metaphorically been written about me, or maybe for me. Inside the cover the authors wrote a note, Think Big… I can’t help but to wonder about reincarnation and if it’s possible that our soul can die and be reincarnated back into the same body that somehow survived and if it can?, no it can’t, I’m stuck with this old vessel. I feel like a plastic water bottle, when I’m full I’m enjoyed to the brim but as soon an I’m depleted I’m thrown in the trash, eventually recycled and used up all over again until I find myself in the garbage bin again, back in the place I came from.
The source of my internal pain is also my greatest inspiration. My fingers aren’t connected to my brain but they do all hard work while my brain drifts about in and out of lazy consciousness. Maybe it’s time to stop letting myself be recycled and simply repurpose myself into something better than a convienent and reusable yet disposable drinking utensil.
Can too simple words change a persons life? I don’t think so but each of us has the power to change other people’s life’s and if we’re brave enough to accept the gift of real friendship we can let those guardian angels help us navigate the Rocky lee shores of never never land. Think big…
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one ~John Lennon