A long time ago I read a book called “House of Leaves.” It is a book that you have to hold in your hand to read for a lot of reasons; don’t get it through a tablet. The concept involves a house that is bigger on the inside than outside. People are so much like this; there is so much more to each of us than meets the eye. Like peeling an onion, we are only known by a few words or images: mom, quiet, librarian. When we get older, we are compartmentalized even further. But there is a complete mansion inside us.
the Winchester House in San Jose. Sarah
Winchester was the owner. She began a continual renovation and remodeling
project that lasted to her death. One legend has it that she thought that if
she kept building, she wouldn’t die. I don’t know if she really thought that,
only Sarah knows.. But as a result, there are some strange constructions; steps
leading to nowhere, doors, etc. If we keep building our internal houses we are
still going to die. But imagine how big your house will be if you keep
learning, experiencing, growing, and dreaming.
It’s ok if it takes you nowhere.
I am facing
a major event. I am turning 60 years old
this summer. I am terrified. When I
turned 59 I realized that I had one year to do everything I thought would make
my life complete. So how did I handle this increasing sense of doom? We got a
dog. Saving this kennel pup was going to help me achieve absolution for all the
undone good deeds in my life. So we went
to a high volume shelter that mostly houses pit bulls and strays. Go big or go
home, right? We left with a mixed breed 54
pound dog. He seemed to acknowledge that we were there while he was running
around in the enclosed area, peeing on the little house they have, so we said,
“yep that’s the one for us.” He was
supposed to be 5 years old so we thought “calm”. The description said shepherd
mix. As it turns out he has a total of zero shepherd in him. Zero. And as for calm…well, you can judge. But we
had a shepherd before and he was a great dog, so we were sold. We named him
Chester, although I have a nephew with a cat named Chester, which I should have
thought of before we named him because now we have to call him Chester Too.
Anyway, Chester came home.
that not knowing him or his habits, we would walk him a lot. I took the morning
walk, which starts about 5:45am. Now at 5:45am there aren’t many people around,
and it’s dark. We walk, and I think. I think about life, about music, about the
world, about Chester’s poop, and about whatever interests me at that particular
moment. So, as part of my good deed atonement plan I decided to write the world
changing thoughts down. I’ll include the wonderfully complex songs Chester and
I make up. Keep in mind he is a dog. So he has some trouble with the high notes.