always the last place you look

I was not even halfway through sanding out the first coat of the drywall in the basement when my brain pumped the brakes a couple times n’ squealed and it said “hey what the hell are you doin’ down here, workin’ your balls off on a beauty of a Saturday and who the hell are you doin’ this for anyway?”

But then my soul swung in –on a chandelier made of recycled gun parts, like it’s occasionally known to do- and it said;

“You damn fool! You’re working for you!  You’re on a mission, like everyone else but you haven’t forgotten it yet. Came pretty close though, idiot! Be grateful. Most people work for nothing but money and that’s all they ever get, be it a lot or a little.  You may not make a pant load, but when you’re working to profit the kind of currency that truly makes you happy then all you need is enough tangible cash to buy a ticket to the next destination. “

“Things are changing in a big way again and you my friend, are workin’ for purpose, to fulfill things you’ve always wanted to do, but you may not have always realized. Hard to believe I know, but that’s why I chimed in there, because I’m your fuckin’ SOUL and it’s about time you started utilizing me and my services again. Idiot. Remember when you cut it n’sealed it, for like 4 months on the graveyard shift, out at the Window factory without windows, then you went home, slept for 4 hours and got up to go paint Andrew Parr’s aunt’s house until 8pm, but you didn’t give a shit, no, you ate it up cuz you were workin’ to get to Vancouver. Remember that? That was me baby! Your soul- all cylinders firing! Remember when you arrived out west and you worked at Calhoun’s as a night manager of the damn graveyard shift again, and then you got off at 7AM and went to film school so you could make your first movie? That wasn’t your brain. He helped a little bit, but remember when you had to work at DQ to buy a plane ticket home? That was him. No inspiration, just action. He got the job done but damn, what a strange time- feeding the homeless from a satchel of cheeseburger experiments on the walk home. That contribution was your heart. Everything else epic and memorable was me. Soul, okay…… so don’t make me call you an idiot again.”

 

I figure the brain, the heart and the soul are the three different viable sources within us lucky ones aware of what we got and if you’re reading this than you most likely fit the profile so congratulations to the graduating class. Use these gifts and try not to be an asshole, at least not in public.  It gets too damn easy to fall into the rut of the rat race so check yourself daily. I’m pretty fuckin’ serious. A lot of those early Jack Johnson songs were onto something. I think. Either way, I had to write this piece to give props to my soul, fresh out of doubt rehab and ready to guide the way again. Let’s do this.