Circular Loopology, and the Story of Recapitulation...

Posted November 10, 2014 @ 12:46am | by S. Cutshall

Circular Loopology, and the Story of Recapitulation...

Birth, Death, Where you grow up-Where you end up, The way your parents had their house and those associated smells & habits, How the foods you were raised on tend to -even if they were poisonous toxic processed "Miracle Foods" of the 50's or 60's or 70's (or any time ever since too)- be the food memories we are all trying to recreate or wax philosophically about or stay addicted to... in other words, the longer one lives the more everything seems to rotate around the axis of axiom that "The more things change the more they stay the same" or perhaps even more astute, "History will repeat itself."

I began with a 1.9 mile bike ride on Thanksgiving Day 2005. It's well-worn (and to absolute shit at that--but warrants repeating to frame this entry correctly) but, I weighed 501 pounds on that day on that bike ride, and yes-that bike ride took a very time (both: in coming -and- to complete). Said differently, Baby-Steps. Baby-steps. But what's not so well-worn is how I am facing (or would that be, facing up to?) the reality that it's back to Baby-Steps for me once again.

How does one begin again with braving up to being in the outside world? The very real, or is that unreal?, reality of leaving their house and not freaking out? Going for a simple, or would that be "not quite so simple?", walk? How about a bike ride? Did I mention riding in a car--let alone driving one?
If you had never done these things I would presume you get brought into it all slowly, with love, some care, lots of wonderment and explanations, just like, more than likely, it once did, years back, when you, me, or whomever were kids. But here's the rub... back then, in those young and new years, we had no point of reference. Nothing to compare any of it to, no expectations--well maybe just that a mom or dad or brother or sister had said something akin to, "It's great! Just wait and see!" (and hopefully not the opposite). But no, now, these days, once all those years and experiences have passed through the toll gates of age, time and moments gone by, and many many times over, most of us don't give any -as in ANY EVER- thoughts to the most simplistic & mundane doings of day to day life... like a walk or car ride as passenger or short (let alone long) bicycle ride (or, and let's be perfectly, honestly revealing here while I am at it, bumping into a friend or stranger... and feeling scared shitless or trapped or like you're going to get exposed for being flawed, weak, nuts, bonkers or whatever adjective that's shitty you might want to insert).

Scott, what prefuckingcisely are you trying to get at here man?

Sorry, I guess the shitty rub is... thinking back, it was all new and without any expectation but these days, when trying to regain my footing (whatever that means) I am working from, and out of, a place that is just absolutely drenched in expectations, memories (of what used to be--and how easy it all was, at least mentally/emotionally) and comparative thoughts.

Anyway... I am making some progress I think.

Two days ago: smallish solo walk followed by 40 sweat-soaked minutes (and not the expected drudgery that's the norm--but in fact joyous fucking joy!!) on the trainer.

Yesterday... Two mile walk with Chloe. Exploring new areas in our new city (better known as, Oregon City). A couple times things became dicey for me. Chloe sensed it. She held her dad's hand. I love that kid.

Today--Amy had to go pick up Chloe (who was in downtown Oregon City hanging out with a friend). I looked at Amy -who knew something was afoul and afoot- and said, "So you have to just pick her up? That's it? No other errands or anything?" She confirmed that was all with a head nod. I mumbled some time-stalling topics... small talk. She gently mentioned she should get going but tagged on, "Is anything wrong?" I more or less blurted out that I was considering going but could feel the BDB (earlier blog entries will explain the Black Death Bitch and how she announces her visits to me) making her presence known. Amy smiled and added, "Well it's not a far," and then, "you know, anytime you want, even later tonight, I can take you around the block once or as many times as you are comfortable with. Really, whatever you want--it's totally up to you."
I told her that this is where it becomes difficult for me, the idea of something and projecting or forecasting it forward, that it seems to be the origin of the anxiety... but that also, the genesis of it can come from wanting (or at least thinking I should) to do something and backing away from it beforehand, or worse: bailing out on it a quarter or half way through it, and how that can even be more bleak for me because it seems to reinforce how fucked up or broken or candyass I have become. I finished up with, "And that, that sense of failing, can take hours, sometimes days even, to have the residue of it fade away and burn off."

She just looked at me patiently.

"Fuck it, I feel like I should go. I feel like I should honor the idea that I should go."

She smiled as I passed by her, through our mudroom door, and out to the car.

At a freshly turned red red light, the BDB came to me. Amy was talking about which street goes where, how Oregon City is really two smaller cities cut in half by a cliff. Her voice was fading into staticky white noise...
"Your chest hurts. Your vision is morphing from Standard Definition to Ultra-High Definition. Adrenaline is now gushing down from brain to heart, from heart outward to limbs--everything filling up with huge gallons of Flight or Fight."

"Just sit. No iPhone. No distracting Aps to look at or play. Do not duck your head down between your knees. Keep your eyes wide open man. You wanted this for a reason. You asked for this, Scott. Embrace this fucker because at bare minimum you know one thing beyond how horrible all this feels... What, remind me PLEASE?? You know it man. YOU KNOW IT CANNOT KILL YOU."

And it passed. Suddenly, without fanfare, it was, she was, the BDB, was gone.

A couple blocks later we pulled up where Chloe and her friend were waiting, for Amy. Chloe did a double, then triple, take at seeing the passenger seat of the car occupied. And then her face was eaten alive by her huge-to-bursting smile.

I smiled back. Casually. No congratulations please, no big deals made, no fanfare thanks... "I am hanging on for dear life. When is she coming back for another visit?"

Once all three of us were tethered in the car, Amy taking us back up The Hill toward our lovely new home, nearing the turn, I asked for a turn in the opposite direction. Amy was casual and pointed us in that direction while Chloe, not as subtle at her 15 years on Earth, blurted out, "Dad, that's not the way to home!" A small jolt of regretting electricity triggered from my brain into my chest. Amy tried to change the subject. Chloe plunged forth.

"Dad, by the way, probably not a good idea to mention this--you know, to call attention to it, but it is really neat to have you in the car again. I am so proud of you! That was so cool to see you pull up with mom!!"

Not smiling up front in the dark, "I agree honey. Thank you," ...for pointing all that out.

After about an additional 30 minutes of Amy turning left & right off of my every command we were back home.

The girls, once all three of us were back in the mudroom, gave me a huge group, three-way, hug with many kisses.

I kind of felt like, out of eyeshot of them, pumping my fist in the air--as a slight celebratory "Fuck YES!" but decided against it. I have too many roads to walk. Too many bridges to cross. Too many miles to ride. An infinitely long highway of understanding stretched out before me left to -hopefully- comprehend...

too many Baby-Steps to baby step.


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