6:30am I am amazed how little nostalgia I feel for Orange County. That could be because I am still in the moment. It didn’t really end. My wife and daughter are still there. Circumstances just changed. On Sunday I thought about driving by the ok’d house, going for the walk I took the last year. But I didn’t want to do the nostalgia thing. I went for a walk in laguna niguel instead. I purposefully did new things, looked at the place from new angles. Perhaps someday I will miss it. But not now

Holding on to the past is seductive. Uplifting moments now gone is a cheap way to feel something. The past is removed from context so it seems purer. I have always indulged nostalgia. I planned trips to poke around past places to evoke nostalgia. What do I mean by “nostalgia?” It is an energy that emanates from inside me. Right about the top of my stomach. When I have a certain memory it radiates outward. all the way to the end of my fingers, through my legs and the top of my head. The feeling is even more powerful when it sneaks up on me. That is why I would go to places I lived in the past. I would visit an old office. As I drove up I would remember a lunch with colleagues, or a success at work. I never knew what thought or memory would hit. Sometimes I might visit a place and not feel much. Other times memories would flood my mind and I would burst into tears. Just writing this makes me realize how strong nostalgia is. The rush. It is a very formidable high. Lately I have felt trapped by nostalgia. Always trying to relive the past. Missing out on the present. Not anticipating a future. Utah is the most dangerous nostalgia. The job, the place, the woman. They still hold so much power over me. But they are gone. To miss them is futile. Now the rush causes more sadness than joy. I move forward. I am excited about this summer. Spending time with my daughter. Working hard. Anticipating what life has to offer.

5:57am last night I dreamed about a government official traversing a snowy mountain to hunt a fugitive. The government official was on skis, trying to go up hill and failing. There was a large entourage of people circled around him including camera crews. When the government official stumbled the fugitive, who had a rifle, shot him in the back. Wounded but still alive the official pressed on. At any time the fugitive could have shot him multiple times. He could have killed him. but he didn’t. He watched the slow ascent. The mass of people moving towards him. And waited. The official got within 59 yards of the fugitive then demanded his surrender. The fugitive set down his rifle and walked toward the official, giving himself up. The scene was odd. But not staged. What was the fugitive thinking? Why did he not run? Shoot to kill?

The feeling of sadness around work, place, love sex is so powerful it feels inevitable. Indulging in it gives my power away. To a job, place, person. Even now trying to redirect feels like betrayal. Every feeling can be redirected. I am in control. I release the job, the place, the woman.

I don’t miss utah. Or even the WIL. I don’t miss being a chaplain. I feel sadness because I never transcended.

All the time I was the chaplain I believed a great reward was coming. I believed fives years after I started I would find pure bliss. I counted the days in yearly journals.

Though I was in my thirties the belief was childlike. I convinced myself a magical life would be obtained. Inevitably I failed. When nothing happened, when life didn’t burst into uninterrupted joy, I was lost. I resorted to honoring the next best thing. the time leading up to the moment of failure.

Now I am a prisoner. I pay debt to a memory. I am trapped feeling I can never be so high again. I pine for a job I outgrew. I miss a place I no longer live. I love a woman who has moved on.

I am focused. Decisive. Sure if where I am going. What I am going to accomplish

2:04pm There is no possibility I could contrive success. My intuition is to be unique. Singular. I go out of my way to be different. That instinct ultimately results in alone and empty.

12:22pm still at work. Feeling of anxiety is not better. It is high energy, which usually would be good. I can’t find a productive outlet.

Anticipation. That is what it is. I anticipate something happening. The review tomorrow. The survey results. Admissions that never materialize. I am waiting for work to turn positive.

10:40am at work. Feel a bunch of energy in my upper lungs. I call it anxiety. I have to hurry up and do something. What do I have to do? The feeling is just there. More than a cause. Financial review tomorrow. Survey in the building. Planning for summer vacation.

6:03am I write these posts because I want to communicate. I write these posts because I want to be known. I write these posts so my experiences have meaning. I write these posts and dream they will become popular. I hope these posts could be a way to make money.

I would be mortified if people knew the parts of me I keep hidden. I would hate writing to entertain. I continue to write to be known. I continue to write hoping I am never discovered.