Rose on our daily walk. Sauntering.

Something inside of people seems to need demons and drama. Some people need Sarah Palin, others Barack Obama. An artist I know hates gallery owners, and writers blame publishers.  Or agents. Or mom and dad. The world doesn’t care about us. They only care about money, blah-blah.It’s easier, I suppose, than taking responsibility for one’s life, and many of us – me, for one – grow up with a running narrative of demons and dramas. My parents, my family, my unhappy childhood, my difficult family, bad and mean bosses, ungrateful uncaring friends. For so many years, the story of my life, my narrative was one of struggle and lament. And drama. So much conflict, resentment, a long parade of demons.

I am working to change the narrative of my life. It’s kind of pointless to keep telling the same old stories. Tough childhood. Lots of fear. Tough divorce. Loneliness. Spent too much money, too many conflicts, too many awful bosses, unfair decisions, everybody pickin on me. Creative people are particularly wedded to narratives of lament. Nobody supports us. Nobody buys what we create. It’t tough being a writer. It’s tough being an artist.

Nuts, I think. It’s tough being a bank teller, or a welder on a GM assembly line.  Or a convoy driver in Afghanistan. People who get to create things are among the lucky and blessed of the world.  I am working to put a new groove in my head. There are plenty of tough things about life, and they will find me soon enough and surely enough, and I will deal with them. But I am working on a new story, leaving the old one behind. I don’t like it, really, and hope not to need it anymore. I think part of the pathway to a truly spiritual life is to calm the mind, and allow enough quiet and thought to understand what living in the moment means, and to even do it. No more laments. I don’t really need demons any more.

Or drama.