Distraction

I like to write when I’m tempted. The temptation could be to drink or self medicate in other ways.

I have ADD. For a brief time I was medicating it, and it changed my life. Problem was when I went to renew my Medical for my pilots license, I was suspended. I had no idea the med I was taking was prohibited. I quit taking it that day. I wasn’t prepared to give up Aviation. After a letter from my physician, and a 3 month wait, I was back in the left seat.

Life returned to “normal”

A week of a million ideas, all of them great, followed by a couple days of barely being able to get out of bed.

3:00 am sessions of watching my favourite intellectuals speak, returned. Hours of Jordan Peterson, Sam Harris, Thomas Sowell and others.

I also spend a lot of time watching old men do their craft. I strongly recommend everyone watch an old man in Australia build a wooden bucket. He’s built wooden containers his entire life. He is a Cooper. It’s a glimpse into a world where we all had a tangible purpose. I think we all miss that to some degree. Beats the hell out of being an administrator to a bureaucrat. What would you rather do? File a document that approves a process? Or build a damn bucket out of wood that will last 50 years and hold water?

I listen to music that takes me back to my days in a Mennonite community. To most it must be weird, but put a few people together singing Amazing Grace with no instruments and I’m 10 yrs old again, my family is together, and my mum is alive.

I sometimes turn on an old video of Meatloaf, and listen to an old version of Paradise by the dashboard lights. I’ve never decided if I even like Meatloaf, I just love how authentic his performances are.

I have a subscription to a Math and Science channel. I can learn some of the things I should have learned long ago.

I like watching Trent Palmer land his Kitfox on a sand bar.

I get odd ideas in my head and try to speak hound. I’ll howl in my bedroom at my dog. I try to communicate with him.

I often think about my kids. Did I do it right? They gonna be ok? Will they come visit me? Can I take my future grandkids flying?

I spend a lot of time in regret. It’s my nature. I’m always stuck in the past. I don’t subscribe to the notion that regrets have no utility. I do not want to repeat mistakes, and the pain of regret is useful.

I question my faith a lot. Isn’t it narcissistic to believe I’m created by a God, and that he loves me? but always it’s restored. It’s too real. The voice is not mine that I hear, and it never guides me to be hurtful or unkind. When I follow the path it suggests, peace ensues. Peace. That’s not me. My loathing of Mr. Trudeau is not from God, that’s all me. My faith would tell me to love that idiot. I have work to do. I will always bend a knee for God. He will judge me from there.

This bloody pandemic has annoyed me. You cannot be a logical person and not have questions. You ask those questions and people think you are some kind of anarchist. I’m angry over it. I don’t know of a single sick person, but I know many who have lost their jobs and self esteem. It has been handled very, very badly.

There is no message here. No point to this drivel. I lie, there is a point. I’m not drunk. I’m not doing something I’ll regret. I’ll be clear headed when I build a planter box with my daughter and son tomorrow.

I gotta go now, me and Bauer are going to have a chat.

If you read this far, thank you.

Tris