So i'm packing up my life into boxes, weeding through piles of paper, throwing away old notes and letters, selling furniture, until suddenly I am left with only my core possessions. Which mostly consists of music equipment and artwork, I'm finding out. I was actually thinking today about my grand return to California. And how it was suppose to be a return, but instead its the start of something completely different. It's funny how life works that way. It doesn't wait up for you, you can pretend that you might have some sort of grasp on stability but the truth of the matter is, everything that you are familiar with could vanish tomorrow. I was in NYC a few weeks ago. I had left my cellphone at the place I was staying and took the subway back to get it. When I got there, there was a huge fire in the building across the street. The entire top floor was burning up, and hundreds of people crowded in the streets under umbrellas watching the whole thing quietly (it was raining...). As the firefighters tried to put out the fire with a water hose, bricks hurled down from the top of the building on the street. As I walked into my building there were families huddled on the bottom floor talking in whispers. I could only wonder if their entire home, whatever they owned, had burnt to a crisp. Gone.

We carry around all these material goods with us. Like it will somehow convince us that because we have familiar objects in our lives that stability exists. You buy a house to have stability. You buy a car to get to work. Steady job, steady life. "Stability exists I tell you!" The way I see it, if I just accept the fact that my life are never going to be stable, then I can be OK with whatever blows my way. If I never become successful, if I lose everything I own, if I never marry, if I lose my hands, if I lose my voice, if I die tomorrow...I think everyday I can still wake up and say, "I'm OK with that."