Good Fortune and Its Possible Origins
In the space of 48 hours, good fortune came hurtling my way in the form of quality paid work on behalf of other writers, dead and alive, a close friend, and senior dogs. It feels good to be busy again with purposeful writing and reflecting on writing that seeks purpose.
Up until these developments, life appeared bleak, penury loomed. And then opportunities arose, mostly unexpected, and I embraced them all because people had embraced me with their trust and utter lack of fear and judgment.
I attribute much of my recent good fortune to asking the ocean (loudly) for help. There I was walking with my close friend Glen, at the ocean’s edge, 60 mph gusts of wind battering us, and he told me to put that question out there, and perhaps had some profanity for emphasis. Why not? I’ve put quality thought and action into the ocean and my world of distressed humans and distressed dogs the last year, and why not a little reciprocity! I needed help. Glen warmed me up with a request of his own. I followed.
Who is to say this asking the ocean (loudly) did anything in the cosmos that led to my good fortune. I ask those kind of questions these days, but never bother answering them. The posing is enough. Then you let your heart and mind and the hearts and minds of other people and dogs go to work.
I like to believe other factors contributed to my good fortune, seen and unseen connections, heard and unheard music, poetry, curiosity, good work, kindness, gratitude, reaching out, and so much more.
For example:
Throwing Rilke to the wind
Luminous deer
Meeting a hungry poet
Conversations with Glen
A caring neighbor who told me to open my curtains and rearrange the furnishings in my house
Meeting a writer
Working with a writer
Reading Bukowski on writing
Extending rapprochement and getting utterly rebuffed, but extending nonetheless
Teaching a kindness writing workshop
Reuniting with my great collaborator
Collaborating with my ex wife on the cover for the new book
Bonnie and Clyde
A phone call from the past
Meeting a dead writer’s unpublished novels
Hearing rock and roll even when rock and roll wasn’t playing and I thought rock and roll had dies (see forthcoming probation poem)
New publication initiatives
In celebration of my good fortune, I built a driftwood fort, went to see Bonnie and Clyde, and had dinner with friends and dogs.
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