Ellen and I started our company on January 1, 1984. Since that time, I have spent 98% of my professional time working from the confines of home. Although I often tested the job market during slow business cycles, I had come to accept the fact that the older I got, the less likely it was that I would ever wind up in an office, getting regular paychecks. Therefore it came as a rather tantalizing surprise last month when the founder of the start-up called to tell me that we were to be given salaries, starting this month. He mentioned a number that fell into a pleasant area between what I figured I was worth and what I could expect to get as a long-time freelancer on the job market.
However, almost as soon as the offer had been made, it was withdrawn. It’s possible that I heard what I wanted to hear, and that the salary was a line item in a future budget, to be implemented whenever we could get more money. No matter…I’m back on a ride of indeterminate length and destination. But for awhile there, Elle and I had some interesting daydreams of a time when bills were always paid on time, and I got an honest dollar for an honest day’s work. And at the end of the day, my wife and kids would bring me a beer, slippers and a newspaper. Just kidding. About the slippers.I still have the Boxster. I won’t go on too much about it, but it seems to not want to be sold. Every time I launch a Craigslist campaign, a yellow light comes on that takes hundreds of dollars to get turned off. Right now, it’s on for the third time. It’s OK to drive, but hard to sell. Wrong time of year too. Que sera, sera, I guess.
Lots of non-car news as well. Both the boys have gotten their braces off, and seem to be stepping up with their schoolwork. Ellen has taken over a lot of things that I used to do, such as the magnificent holiday card containing this note…which she designed and produced without any help from me whatsoever (except saying “yeah, looks great”). We had a very lovely Thanksgiving, with new tablecloths and napkins (enough so that everyone matched) and the expected but still amazing food prepared by everyone. The day before, due to excessive color testing and bad planning, the kids and I painted the living room. The final coat went on at about 7 a.m. It’s a good thing it was a warm day…every door leading outside was open. But by the time people arrived, the smell of barbecued turkey had obliterated any lingering paint odor. And it’s a really nice adobe color.
The last-minute painting was a consequence of a weekend by myself that I grabbed, knowing that constant activity would greet my return. So I packed a guitar, some CDs and some clothes and drove up to the Anderson Valley and Mendocino. It was wonderful. I blasted down two-lane roads near the coast, Dylan blaring out of the speakers. I ran from one beach park to another in Mendocino at sunset. I did Chi Gung and played guitar for a bunch of trees. It only lasted two days, but it allowed me a much-appreciated period of feeling untethered, like a balloon that could float away in any number of unanticipated directions. It’s good for the soul to do that every so often.Since I last wrote, I was interviewed and photographed for the National Brain Tumor Foundation’s annual report. Ellen took a great photo of me playing a guitar in front of my other instruments. She captured a candid moment when I wasn’t aware that I was being photographed…probably the best way to shoot me, for sure. The interview told my story as well as it could, considering that they couldn’t go into some of my alternative therapies and practices, but it’s nice to know that my story will help them raise money for research. The other person profiled was a woman from corporate life who had retired, but was able to stay active and actualize a purpose through volunteering. This is what many long-term survivors seem to be doing, and it makes me realize how lucky I am that I can still work at a pretty intense level.
Despite the holiday hustle and bustle, I’m making time to run in China Camp as often as I can. The LA Marathon is in the spring, and I’d best get my distances up around the 12-mile level to take it on again, but it looks like I will. I’ve also discovered that running and praying to the Medicine Buddha go really well together, so every time I run, it’s an opportunity for me to embrace life and spread healing energy to those who need it. Recently, feeling sort of run-down, I realized that I can also take healing energy from the earth for myself, and I could feel my energy start to return. Duh. It’s all about balance, isn’t it?
Perhaps the Beatles said it best: “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”
Peace and love,
Dan