That Smell

Maybe I've felt that once before. The same thing I felt outside the office building this morning in the freshness of the morning. The sun was not yet hot but it was warming the Earth. The sky wasn't cloudy or perfectly clear; there was some haze of morning -- not fog, not marine layer, this was truly a morning dew. A breeze blew over me, cool but gentle. Consider it a caress. One that put my mind in another time.

Suddenly I was 14 years old. Standing alone in my summer job. It would have been this exact time of year. And there I am, remembering what it was like at Solar Gardens, the plant nursery I worked at for 2 years after I was old enough to get a work permit. I think I made $4.25/hour. And the day would get progressively more hectic. It was an exhausting job to water, help customers, move plants, haul mulch, work the register and dig ditches. Basically I was the closest thing they could get to slave labor. But it was not entirely unpleasant. Something about working outside and being accepted with my long-hair as a stable worker was rewarding.

Anyway, that feeling stopped me dead in my tracks this morning. I had a moment of absolutely peace and clarity. I smiled at the sky, opened my arms wide to the breeze and made a mental note such that I would remember to open my heart to a blog entry 14 hours later. My day was busy. I interviewed a candidate for a new position in my department. I met with various colleagues; had phone conversations with Sr. VP's, discussed some inventory issues with various powers-that-be and ran two meetings including some awkward one-on-one. I love what I do a majority of my days. Today was one of them. I took no prisoners, completed the tasks in front of me and moved toward a common goal we all have of growing something wholesome: a brand that means authenticity and a group who wishes nothing more than to succeed in a colossal challenge.

But I'd have traded it all to have remained in the simplicity of Solar Gardens for just a few more moments.

Roper vs Dexter

The Tale of the Tape

Dexter "The Green Demon" Integra:
- DOB: May 1996
- Record: 141,796 miles, 0 losses, 1 KO
- 3 injuries
- Fight Venues: Washington, DC; Boulder, CO; Orange County, CA
- Special Skills: Alpine head unit with iPod integration
- Manager: Honda

Roper "Master of Cool" Refrigerator:
- DOB: April 1999
- Record: 63,120 hrs runtime, 1 loss, 0 KO
- 1 injury
- Fight venues: Laguna Hills, CA; Irvine, CA; Fountain Valley, CA
- Special Skills: Ice-maker
- Manager: Whirlpool

It's been a tough fought battle but the long-standing rivalry between Dexter the car and Roper the refrigerator has come to an end. Roper was the first to give in during a particularly tumultuous time when we was trying to make his career come-back and service two sets of groceries after a two-year hiatus. Alas, his come-back was short lived and he will be retired to the San Diego Gas & Electric recycling program.

Dexter, who has never faltered in his goal of fighting well past his youth, looks and feels great. He shows no signs of slowing and with a set of new tires underneath him (as opposed to around his waste line like some middle-agers) he believes he'll continue to serve as undisputed champion for many years to come.

In a sign of true sportsmanship, Dexter has generously allowed Roper to vacation in the garage until his final retirement this Friday.

If There Was Doubt

If there was doubt that each of us is worthy... it's in the moments we least believe that the value of our lives is understood. And then we remember. We remember to pay attention.

When I said I let it go
I passed a judgment to cover myself up.
Apparently it did not work.
As the friend came and said,
with the utmost sarcasm and a heaping spoonful
of modern slang-laden realism,
"Yes, but you loved her, serious.
I mean, you wrote sonnets and shit!
And then you wrote stuff that made me wanna copy & paste."

Indeed. Copy and paste my release for all to see.

And with that the emotion drained from my face. Not sadness. Not happiness. A blank stare on the outside and a ringing alarm inside. The same sound you hear when you hit the "Daily Double". Just acknowledgment that yes, I did. Yes, I am that person. Worthy of receiving such things as I give. And so I shall and I am and I do. Oh it's coming back to me now just how blessed I am. I'm sorry it had passed from view.

See, the routine, looking back, was boring! Holy mother load. Yes, boring. As fake tends to be. She was boring, they were boring, I was boring. The realization gives me the simple smile of the Buddha. Not a smirk. Not laughter. And most important, not hate or emptiness.

This part, now, this is real. This recovery. This smile. This yoga of body and mind. This life.

Thanks universal spirit. Thanks self. Thanks life.