Archive for October, 2018

Dream 45

A trio of dreamlets featuring the ex, yet again.

In the first part we were both at a band practice where I was mostly singing backup. The band consisted of a bunch of guys I’d played with in various bands coming together for a sort of “reunion” as a big group jam. Greg Patterson from Midnight Express was singing and aside from that, Sam Walkoviac from AKA, a band I played in during the 90s, was on bass. He was getting back into the swing of things after not having played bass for a long time. He was doing a great job despite discovering that his bass was really screwed up. The lowest string was basically off the neck and unplayable and I think the highest string was missing as well. He discovered some problem with a weird bracket part from deep in the bass. I asked is it was the same bass from back in the day, and it wasn’t. He had got a new bass at some point. He said he wished he had his 12 string bass.

I was singing backups but couldn’t hear myself well. Then I noticed the mic wasn’t plugged in. I figured since we were practicing at a low level, that maybe Greg had figured we didn’t need to use mics or something but when he realized my mic wasn’t plugged in, he was surprised and started to remedy that. My ex was there just hanging out on the couch watching and smiling. In the dream, I think we may have been together and not exes though. It was very happy and loving. Leading to…

Part 2:
She and I were on a grassy area at the side of a highway. She was sitting on a stool. We were smiling, laughing, kissing and hugging and then as we were doing so she sort of toppled backward off the stool and we both tumbled, laughing, into the lush grass. We both just laid there, smiling in silence, enjoying the cool, soft, plush grass and the warm sun in a moment of pure peace and serenity. I remember wondering if people driving by or maybe the police were going to think something was wrong, seeing two people just laying in the grass beside the highway. I decided I didn’t care.

Part 3:
Now we were in her room which seemed like a small dorm room. I was sitting on the bed next to the wall (the bed was in a corner), and she was on the open side of the bed. I noticed what looked like a ribbon wedged between the bed and the wall, so I pulled it, thinking I was retrieving it, but realize it had actually be stuck to the wall with tape or something, like it had been hung intentionally but then trapped when the bed had been moved against the wall. I said something along the lines of “Oops, sorry.” She now had some kind of facial mask on (the kind that cleanse your skin or something) and the mood turned darker and more serious. She said “Can I bum you out?” I knew that she meant she was about to tell me something serious that would bum me out, but I found it a strange thing to say. She then started talking and building up to something that I could tell was not going to be good, but she was taking a long time getting there.

“Brian and I have been really trying to stick to our budget…”

I somehow knew that “Brian” was the person she was dating now (not any Brian I knew, and as far I know this is a purely fictional dream fact), and I wondered how the hell her and “Brian’s” budget had anything to do with me. I realized now that we were not together and also wondered how this all colored our previous, hugging, kissing, snuggling. Did Brian know about this? Did they just have that kind of open relationship? Would he have cared if he known? Had she been inappropriate with me in light of her new relationship? Where was she going with this story? Was she talking about their “budget” because she was about to tell me they were saving for a wedding? Was this finally about to be an opportunity to talk about a lot of unresolved shit in the air?

“Okay, please get to the point here,” I said.

And then I woke up.

Dream 45

A moment of love
Then back to reality
Awakened from sleep

Home

I have a few private blogs for different purposes. Kind of private journals. I noticed one today that I had forgotten about. I couldn’t remember why I created it. It had one entry. I quite liked what I’d written so I’m putting it here. I’m not sure why I wrote this in a private blog or what else I thought I’d do with this blog.

There are two truths. Both real. Seemingly at odds, yet here they exist within me. Despite whatever troubles my life may have, I am mostly at peace. Grateful for my many gifts, talents and blessings. Overall, my life is pretty damn great. Yet beneath it all, I feel the gargantuan darkness. Lurking in the depths like some legendary, mythic sea monster. I know it’s there. I feel its presence. The way it changes the pressure around me. Almost imperceptible and undetectable ripples from the deepest depths.

I have a genuine joy, happiness, and love of life, yet I often feel like a ghost walking through this world. An empty, hollow husk of a person, tired and weary of this life. Always tired. Wanting to sleep. Maybe not wake up. I compose suicide notes in my head, though I have no intention of any such thing.

I am genuinely fine on my own and can see a bright and wonderful life ahead, yet I can’t seem to shake the loss. I can’t stop the comparisons. The desire for what I’ve tasted but no longer have. I try to be present and non-resistant. I often succeed. And often fail. It’s like I’ve been ejected into an alternate dimension and it’s not a bad dimension, per se, but it’s not right. It’s off-kilter. I don’t belong here.

So I do the only thing I can do. I just keep swimming. I enjoy the sun on my skin and wind across my face. And I try to enjoy the water and make this new dimension my home despite the unsettling presence I can feel somewhere deep below me. And the undying desire deep within my very being for my real home. Where I belong. Or maybe that’s just resistance again and I should just call it my “previous” home.

Or perhaps it would be most accurate to simply say…”her.”

Home

Home is not a place
An ethereal concept
Home is simply her

The Rigidity of Your Hopes and Dreams

11 days into my new adventure and it’s been a wonderful whirlwind. I find myself with a lot to say to say, so buckle in for the signature Heath tome of verbosity.

This adventure is a great catalyst to being present. Naturally, many have asked me what I will do when this contract is over. Will I take another one? As humans, we are almost always far too wrapped up in the past and the future. Worrying about things that did or didn’t happen in the past or what will happen in the future. Planning our path. Trying to make it happen. We have our hopes, dreams and goals, and we need to find the road to them. I haven’t even boarded the ship yet. I have no idea how I will feel in 7 months from now. Maybe I’ll be sick of being confined to a ship and be homesick and miss my friends, my bands, acting, Austin, and my life there. Or maybe I’ll feel like I’ve found the best life ever and never want to stop doing it. I don’t know. So my best choice is to just focus on today and enjoying it. I’ve had conversations about future contracts, and possibilities if I decided to stay on with Carnival for more contracts. Maybe I could become a Music Manager and direct my own band. Who knows where this will lead, who I will meet, or what opportunities may present themselves?

There is, of course, the fear that if I decide that it was fun but I want to resume my life in Austin, that it won’t be easy because I’ve been away from acting and networking and all the bands I played with and I’ll find myself with no way to pay the bills so I’ll have no choice but to take another contract and now I’m trapped just like any other job. Of course, that’s just fear rearing its ugly head like it does. It has also made me think about the rigidity with which we think about our “hopes and dreams” for life. Is this an awesome job? Absolutely. Is it what I’ve always “dreamed” of doing? No. I never thought “Oh man, if only some day I could sing on a cruise ship! That is what I want to do with my life!” Now of course, my dreams have never been super specific. I dreamed of fame and fortune in music and acting. Touring with my own band, playing my originals and being somewhat “famous” for lack of a better term (though “fame” isn’t the goal at all). Or touring as a side man with some big band. Playing for Sheryl Crow or Lady Gaga, or anything like that. Putting out my music and people buying it and coming to see my concerts. Starring in movies, television and theater as a renowned actor and making a good living doing so. Being a sought after voice over actor.

For some reason, I now actually feel more cut off from those dreams. Like being so isolated in this very specific situation, there’s no chance of any of that. Now of course, that’s just fear again as, like I said before, I don’t know what kinds of contacts and opportunities might come along here. But while I was a freelancer in Austin, it felt like I was at least playing “the lottery.” That big audition could come along. Playing in 8 bands might lead to something. Now I feel like I’m not even really playing, so as they say “You can’t win if you don’t play.” I’m not going to be doing any acting, obviously. No auditions. Now, sure, I’ve already met amazing people and will be playing 6 nights a week on the ship, so that’s definitely something.

However, there’s another, slightly darker undertone to all this. Two years ago, I first started pursuing all this because of a devastating breakup that made me just want to run away from everything and turn off my brain. I wanted to curl up and die, but I also didn’t (really) want to literally curl up die (at least not deep down, though sometimes I thought I wanted that). I considered crazy shit like taking some kind of job at a remote post in Antarctica or something. The equivalent of a “living death.” I didn’t want to actually die, but I kind of wanted to just become a vegetable and live out my remaining days as a zombie. In some ways, I saw this cruise ship opportunity as a better version of that. I could at least be doing one of the things I am here on this earth to do, being on stage and playing music, but aside from that, I could just turn off my brain, look at the ocean and let the remaining days of my life slowly wash away with each wave.

This is not my “dream” life. I do however recognize that it has elements of it. I am paying the bills playing music and singing. And again it makes me wonder about the rigidity of our dreams. Are my dreams too rigid? I don’t know, but they are what they are. I know (in very general terms) what I’ve wanted as long as I can remember. What I feel I’m here to do. Do we make ourselves unhappy by being too hard and unbending in “what we want”? Do we perhaps need to let our dreams redefine themselves along our journey? I don’t know. I do know that we are fear-based beings and that a tremendous amount of our decisions are fear-based and probably the vast majority of our energy is spent catering to fear or trying to fend it off.

What am I going to do 7 months from now? I have no idea. I want to spend more of my energy on today. Enjoying this moment. We will never know what the “right” thing to do is, and many times there probably isn’t even a “right” thing to do. The best we can do is relax and let the river take us where it will. Don’t fight the current. Though you might want to at least gently paddle in a particular direction.

Dream

Do not be rigid
Be flexible like a tree
Let the river flow