On My New Friends

As I examine my life the last two tumultuous years, I seek to understand and acknowledge what helped me survive, and indeed, thrive in many ways,

Family, of course. Bonnie and Clyde and the senior dog sanctuary. My ex-wife. Walks and talks with Glen. The ocean. The beach. Building driftwood forts. My creative mind. Faith in myself. My effort to honor the faith in those who have supported me and still believe I have promise as a person and writer.

And then friends, but more to the point, the new friends I’ve made in the past two years that were the direct result of my writing. In other words, these previously unknown people who read my essays, books and blogs and reached out to me knowing full well the extreme direction my life had turned. Their names are Jennifer and Holt, Kevin and Wendy, Glen, Christina and Sean, another Wendy, Earl and Carolyn. They sought me out, invited me into their homes, came to my home, fed me, listened, provided counsel, and facilitated creative opportunities for me that I would have never envisioned had my life continued the way I thought it would.

I’ve never made any real money with my writing. I broke even on the book and gigging. I paid a few bills with the freelance writing. But, as I have discovered the past two years, there was something vastly richer derived from all the writing than mere recompense. Somehow, the writing went out to Oregon and connected to some extraordinary kind and wise folks, and they are making a tremendous difference in my ongoing reanimation and reinvention. These people have taught me so much about friendship and compassion and withholding judgment. They have taught me about crab pizza, caulking and lost Oregon books. They are my friends for life and our unique collaborations have just begun.