Monday, January 4, 2010

Minimalistly happy

Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.

-- Raymond Carver

I am a minimalist. I've known the concept most of my life, though I have never given it a name.

The books, envelopes and other objects of daily living seem to multiply while I sleep. One day I awaken feeling smothered by the stacks and googaws. Stripping the area of all but the most used necessities seems to release my mind of clutter as well.

When my life becomes too cluttered with ambitions and commitments, a mental scouring is called for, and once that is accomplished, I am ready to go again. I was born with a save the world complex, or as you used to say, I am a fixer. Sometimes the fixer needs fixing.

Did mommas know when they named their sons Leon, that they would offer musical gifts to the masses? Leon Redbone. Leon Russell. Each Leon has a place in my heart. Each evokes memories associated with special times in my life. Redbone pulls dual duty.

The month since you died has flown by. I have spent many of the days taking a memory of you out of my cache and examining it minutely. Some of them make me smile, some fill me with confidence, others cause me to cry. At times I get a warm feeling that radiates from my heart -- it is impossible to describe.

Peace to you Paul.

The mailman ignores me now.

Later.

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