living dangerously means being here now....

I think after being physically thrown out of a non English speaking kitchen this past week im a little better suited to take on the impending, unjust and erratic nature of what is surely on all of our social horizons. Just because something feels like an okay thing to do or to say doesn’t mean that folks around you will have the same degree of clemency and acceptance. Stress and fear manifest in strange ways you know. Get ready yawl,...not everyone likes mushrooms right? not everyone likes oakey red wines,but most do. its that "oakey bite" that Charles Mara talks about...oak chips, oak vats, new wood,...old wood, longevity verses character and so on.

Think back to someone you knew long ago that was not only really wound up and tight most of the time but also waterlogged with paranoia of the unknown and uncertain. Nervous energy, fear and the sense of helplessness are the ingredients that go into the crock pot of despair and grief. Take a sip from the spoon and you’re just like the rest of em …consumed, demoralized and laden with endorphins that’ll surely make you react and behave in a way that you may later regret. I say stop it man! Stop the traction, get out your best tube of lube, put away the cook books and free yourself from the collective and collecting gloom and anxiety,…get a small shovel, find a bare patch of soil, jab, poke and prod the surface enough to build texture and then plant some seeds. Nourish them with focus and intensity and let go of the rope that you’ve been holding. Let go because its end is already down the vortex. Let go because you create your own destiny . Rope is the little piggy that stayed home. YOU be the little piggy that either goes to Rome or to the Market and remember,….Sir Winston once said “Kites rise highest against the wind-not with it.”