Thank You Bill

 

My Song, Thank You Bill

Bill? He is a rather complicated subject. Like all Coker’s, when mixed with Hillhouses, there is a tendency to be an a-hole. However, a-holes can be the best people as well. Bill falls into that category. He can be so incredibly concerned about an individual that he will get deeply emotional about their overall condition, but he also has the famous, Coker-switch. I’m afraid we all have this too; it is when you have finally had enough of someone’s BS and you completely cut them out of your life forever. Bill is really rather Zen-like. He can be happy regardless of his surroundings. He does not require any stimuli. He will indulge on occasion, but he can have just about as much fun with or without comfort. Of course, I love my brother. No human has ever tested me more than Bill. But, as one might expect, he has also put forth a tremendous effort to partner with me and make things happen as a team. The only way to deal with Bill is to get yourself a bull-rope and some rosin and pray your grip can keep you in the saddle. Being with Bill can be the wildest ride you’ve ever had and it can throw you further than you’ve ever been thrown. The term, “Never a dull moment,” had Bill in mind when it first came out. This is why he attracts fun people. Nearly everyone who is into having fun will be drawn to Bill. To people who want to have fun, Bill is the right kind of flame for their marshmallow. He projects the environment for comedic relief. He is not so much a deep thinker as he is a storer of thought. He doesn’t meditate or dwell on anything, but he photographically stores complete works in some sort of massive, vault-like unit in his brain. He can pull up information he stored in his library years ago. Therefore, do not – I repeat – do not get into an argument with Bill; you cannot win.

Bill has pretty much ran the family show and/or business, for his entire life. Mom calls him “The Boss” when she isn’t accusing him of being ill. Management always has this kind of reputation. However, upon reflection, our family could not have made it without his leadership. During our childhood, we faced some incredibly difficult situations. Dad had a really bad drinking problem and we somehow, almost ended up in a cult-like church-environment. Without having Bill around, steering us out of those situations, we may have ended up on Jerry Springer or as the subjects of a scary docudrama.

Bill had a Yoda growing up. Aunt Mable taught him “The Force”, and equipped him with all of the necessary weapons he’d need to get through life. If you want to know what Mable was like, see Bill. They were two peas in a pod. These details make his story interesting. Like all heroes (See Joseph Campbell), he was called away from his village. George Lucas borrowed from Campbell’s monomyth to tell the story of Luke Skywalker, and the reason it is called a monomyth is due to the fact that it is always the same for all heroes. When Bill was called away, he made Florida his home. Of course, there were other galaxies, like Corning, New York, but Luke – I mean Bill – had to go far, far away in order to become a Jedi. All heroes return to the village where they started; from Dorothy to Harry Potter, this is the part where the hero comes back to the village and brings the boon home. They renovate the old home-place and they renovate the entire neighborhood and they take care of their elders. Bill has been doing the most in this area lately. He has been good company and a lot of good support for mom.

Today, his age matches the traditional age of retirement in The US. This seems fitting as it coincides with Bill’s completion of the typical, hero’s journey. Of course, there is always a sequel.

Thank You Bill.

Thank You Bill

KISS

 

On August 29, 1976, Bill and I went to see Kiss at The Atlanta, Fulton County Stadium. Some guy named Bob Seger opened the show, early in the afternoon. It was a very hot day. The show was general admission and coolers and blankets were allowed. Apparently, nearly anything was allowed. The only thing I could compare it to would be Woodstock. We had 40,000, out-of-control fans and a handful of security guards who just tried to stay out of our way. Imagine having every rebellious teenager from Georgia, in one location, for one day.

Let me back up to the wait. Before the doors opened, the crowds gathered outside. We had a decent spot, near the gates. The midday heat was relentless. It was August in Atlanta; need I say more? People were passing around cold drinks of whatever they had in their coolers. At first, I thought to myself, “I’m not gonna drink after total strangers.” The heat was so unbearable; I finally took a sip of something as it passed by. I was only 12 and I probably should have inquired about the contents, but it was cold, so I continued to take sips as cold drinks came around.

When the crowd appeared to swirl, I started feeling nauseous. But the doors opened and it was time to run. Bill was carrying a huge, red cooler and we had blankets too. We ran and were followed by the crowd. In retrospect, it was a dangerous moment. But we made it. We ended up just to the right of the pitcher’s mound. Had there been actual rows, we might have been on the fifth or six row, just to the right of the stage. It was perfect. To our right, behind a row of four-foot-high, chain-link fences, was a massive tower of speakers. I’m going from memory, but the speakers were about 30 inches each and the tower must have been 30 feet high. Georgia State University has images of that day in their archives. The images were taken by an Atlanta Journal Photographer.

Bob Seger, and his newly assembled, Silver Bullet Band took the stage around 3:00 PM. Audience members who could not take the heat were excused. The mob would carry them overhead and dump them over the fence in a grassy area beside the massive speaker-tower. Several people took “naps” over there for the rest of the show.

38 Special took the stage. The crowd was rowdy for their entire set. I remember some parts of their set, but most of it was drowned out by the crowd noise. Johnny and Edgar Winter was just a little louder, but it was getting hotter and muggy. It was miserable by the time they got on stage.

Finally, Blue Oyster Cult took the stage and the sun started going down. Before the band started playing, Buck Dharma threw an entire six-pack of Bud into the crowd and told us to enjoy it and cool off. He immediately regretted it, saying, “I hope that didn’t hit anybody on the head.”

After they played their hit, The Reaper, the crowd was finally paying attention to the stage. The stage, meanwhile, was being prepared for Kiss.

Finally, after about thirty minutes of prep, the band emerged and walked on stage while flames and smoke lit the entire stadium. Lights were flashing and the gigantic speakers started buzzing loudly. When I say loudly, I mean it shook the ground. The vibration of the initial hum was the result of Ace Frehley’s Humbucking pickups and Gene Simmons’ low E, string, left open and vibrating for effect. I could see the speakers pulsing with the sounds. I was actually worried about our “seats”. We were very close to those speakers.

“You wanted the best, and you got the best, the hottest band in the world; KISS!”

As soon as those words shot out across Atlanta, Kiss went into Detroit Rock City and I don’t know how the entire stadium didn’t go up in flames. Explosions, fire, smoke, lights and drums! The music was so loud that when Bill tried to say something, I had to try to read his lips; but it was no use. After the first song, Paul Stanley came to the microphone and said, “They don’t call this Hotlanta for nothing.” And Peter Criss beat the drums for emphasis.  

Nevertheless, the show went on. It was, and remains, the best show I have ever witnessed. I was deaf for a few days afterwards, but it was worth it. Explosions, fire, smoke, lights, cables, drums, burning guitars, smoking guitars, elevating drums, sirens. I’ll never forget the beginning of Firehouse, when Paul Stanley came out, wearing a fireman’s helmet, with fire and smoke covering the stage’ sirens going off, red lights and flashing lights.

After that song, Gene Simmons breathed fire, shooting it all the way across the huge stage. Ace did a long solo. Peter Criss sat on a drum and sang Beth. There was everything a 12-year-old could ask for. There was blood, fire, smoke, loud guitars, loud drums and so much more.

I’ve lost count of how many Kiss shows I have been to since that show in 1976. I have never been disappointed at a Kiss Show.

In fact, 45 years later, Bill and I returned to the scene of the crime and saw them one last time on October 10, 2021. Believe it or not, it was better than the show in 1976.

Kiss hasn’t just been my favorite show; it has been a part of my life. I’m grateful for having had the experience of Kiss. Bill took me to my first and last Kiss show; he gets it.

As I write, the very last stage is being set for the final Kiss show. They play at Madison Square Garden at 7:30 PM tonight. The band has been doing these shows for 50 years and it is time.

Gene, Paul, Peter and Ace, thank you for these years of rocking all night long and partying every day!!

 

May The Force Be With You

 

Jennifer and I made our way to Piedmont Hospital and the usual prep began. Eventually, I was rolled into the operating room where I met the Da Vinci Robot, who was going to partner with the doctor during the surgery.

 

Being sedated, I think I asked the robot how it was doing.

I dozed off, opened my eyes and learned that six hours had passed.

At the time, I remember some discomfort, but it was somewhat manageable with the help of Sister Morphine.

Here I lie in my hospital bed

Tell me, Sister Morphine, when are you coming round again?

Oh, I don't think I can wait that long

Oh, you see that I'm not that strong ~ The Rolling Stones

 

 

 

And I rested.

When I would awaken, a nurse, or Jennifer, would usually be standing by my bed, trying to get me up and walking. I wanted no part of that.

On the second day of this surgical journey, I met a nurse named Joel Bond. I will never forget him, or the mystical experience his visit became. I only connected with Joel for that brief stay at Piedmont, but his effect on me completely changed my life.

Joel was often very busy when he’d drop by to check on me, but he’d still take a moment and pull a chair up beside my bed and chat for a couple of minutes. He’d joke and he’d give me some encouraging words before he rushed away again; always promising to check on me in a while and always keeping his promise.

I had some minor complications that kept me in the hospital for a few days, but Joel was there every day. And on the third day after my visit to the cave (Hero’s Journey), Joel came in smiling. He pulled his chair up and said, “I’m so happy.”

I had no idea what he was referring to. “About?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ve seen your path,” he said, “You are going to live a long time.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. But I did not have time to ask him to clarify; my doctor walked in.

“We’ve got your pathology report back Mark.” Said Dr. Wong.

Joel put his hand over his mouth, “I thought you knew. I let it slip.” He said.

Oh… Okay, path is short for pathology. Right.

“We got it all and we won’t need to do anything more.” Said Dr. Wong, “We are just going to monitor your PSA a while. You’ll die of something one day, but not prostate cancer.”

With that, Dr. Wong walked out and Joel said, “I am so sorry. I thought you already knew.”

I told Joel I had no idea that “path” meant “pathology” and we had a laugh about that.

“I may not see you anymore.” Said Joel, “This is not my floor. I’m upstairs if you need me. After I met you, I asked them if I could stay on this floor until I knew you were going to be okay, but I’ve got to get back now.”

Joel gave me a pat on the arm and said, “It has been fun. You are going to be fine.”

I’ve not seen him since.

As soon as Joel walked out, it was easy for me to believe I’d just had a mystical experience, based on a true story.

The name Joel comes from the same source that gives us the word “jewel” It means: The Lord is God.

The word “Bond”, Joel’s last name, means: uniting power or influence; or a method of laying bricks.

The path? It is not really short of pathology in this story. It is Joseph Campbell’s path of a hero; which we are all called to travel on from time to time. It is the journey which every life-story is based on, for every individual. George Lucas wrote Star Wars based on The Hero’s Journey. To me, it seems clear that Lucas uses Luke to tell of his own journeys. Whether you see it or not, you’ll be called out on a journey. You won’t want to go. You’ll meet others, the way I met Joel Bond, and you’ll find yourself in a cave, where you have to deal with your fears. Your Joel, or your Yoda or your mentor, will help you to discover your strength.

“My ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us, binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.” ~ Yoda

 

The Journey's End

 

Today would have been my 40^th anniversary if Lori. I miss Lori on some strange level. I suppose I remember the shy little creature I dated 40-44 years ago, predating the beginning of the end. In that smaller window of my story, I can still see a rather cheerful period; an experience I enjoyed very much. In those years, I was in need of a miraculous rescue. From ages 0-14, I was developing and living in a story of complete anxiety. I was a wild Mustang of a horse. I hid behind hills and drank from streams and foraged in that wilderness of unhappy isolation. I could not really fit in anywhere. I would go to school and I was an outcast, making friends with the unruliest students I could find. I only made such friends because I could not identify with anyone who fit in socially. When The Universe introduced Lori as a supporting actress in my story, I found myself playing parts I had never played. I found out that dating would require a trip to a restaurant; something I had only done once or twice in my life. I did not know about these buildings where food was offered and servers would ask me difficult questions like, “Would you like some fresh grated parmesan cheese?”

It may sound like a simple question, but questions like that produced such uncomfortable feelings within me. “If I say no, will I offend this person? Does the cheese cost more? Does the server really have time to bother with such a selfish request?”

These imponderables would cause my heart to race and a bead of sweat would appear on my forehead. I stammered and sent the friendly server away, wishing I could have enjoyed the cheese I just refused.

To say that I was an awkward teenager is as much of an understatement as saying the ocean is wet.

Lori was not my girlfriend or a permanent fixture in my life; that was never the intention. Of course, my desire was to keep her on as my mate, but a Greater Mind knew that she had a limited role. Lori was a door into an adventure. When I was 19, and finally stepping through that door, I saw Lori and I as joint-protagonists. But later that day – this day, 40 years ago – I was given the clue of a lifetime and it was a literal sign, with two words on it and those two words captured the essence of the entire story of Lori. I did not realize this then, but the two words on that sign were there to reveal the title of the play in which Lori and I were costars. The two words? Journey’s End. That night, the epilogue was printed and the hardcover edition of the very first book of The Chronicles of My Life was bound.

It seemed unusual to begin a series of books with the first one being referred to as The Journey’s End, but it was the end; not of my life’s story, but of the story a complete adventure, where I was as wild as a Mustang and broken by a little, redheaded girl.

So today still marks an anniversary for me; it’s the anniversary of the end of book one. Without the first book, The Journey’s End, I would not have been prepared to accept the call we read about in the second book. Lori appeared in the first few chapters of the second book, but only to set up the characters who would help me over the threshold and back into the special world. Every Hero’s Journey begins in a mundane, ordinary world. Shortly after I stepped through the door of perception, which was introduced in the first episode of my life, I found myself in a very ordinary state. At that point, I could ask for parmesan cheese without the slightest delay. I was in this ordinary state for eight years into the second book, but the phone rang, and it was Lori. “Meet me,” She said, “and let’s say, ‘goodbye.’”

I agreed and we met at a middle school, located almost exactly in the middle of where we began and where we ended up. From that meeting, I watched her drive away and then I turned and answered the call back into the special world.

 

They Call Us Flippers

 

You would not believe how often we uncover a patch that completely shocks us; and I don’t know why it still shocks us. In so many cases, a floor is just one bounce from falling through, a wire is just one jiggle away from burning down the house, a wall is just one good push away from falling in or out and this list goes on forever.

Some real examples:

1.     1. In one house, the add-on laundry room was leaking and the drywall had fallen in, and the renter was behind on rent so they did not even call the landlord; instead, they tried to patch the ceiling from the inside. I kid you not. They took a bucket of tar and slathered it to the exposed decking; INSIDE THE LAUNDRY ROOM. This probably would not have even worked if they’d gotten a ladder and tried to patch it from the roof side, but the odds would have been significantly better.

2.      2.  On one house, some siding had rotted and fallen away from the house. No problem: the homeowner found some decent cardboard, cut it out bigger than the hole, attached it with duct tape, and actually painted his patch to match the house. I swear, someone should make videos of repairs like that. It is sad and funny. The sad part is that the person who makes such repairs spends a lot of time doing so and they actually think it will work.

3.      3. We bought one house and it was actually a decent house; except the homeowner was a “handyman”. He had a lot of silicone and several boxes of drywall screws in assorted sizes. This demo was the hardest one we’ve done. For decades, the homeowner had been squeezing silicone and screwing anything he added or repaired. Nothing was level or cut properly, but it was securely in place; FOREVER. Pipes were literally all coated in a half-inch layer of silicone. I’m still not clear on what he was thinking here. It may be that he was thinking the silicone would insulate the pipes, or maybe he thought the outer-layer of silicone would prevent leaks? I am not sure, but the pipes had to be rescued from the silicone before they could be removed.

I could go on. But don’t get me wrong; this is why I have a job and I love it.

During the boom we’ve been experiencing, we’ve been watching our competition. There are some flippers out there who know what they are doing. I usually go and check out their work whenever I can. Some people just go in and renew everything. Those are usually the best examples of a renovation, but they often cover up beautiful hardwoods and they’ll just throw old, wavy-glass windows in the dumpster and replace them with off-the-shelf, vinyl windows. While I agree that the house will often function even better, giving up the charm to achieve that goal is not always the best idea.

There was one house we really wanted. We made an offer but were outbid by another company. The house was absolutely gorgeous. It was old and neglected and it needed a lot of work, but we dreamed of bringing it back the way it was designed. It was filled with old-world character you just cannot find anymore. Naturally, we watched the renovation. We were hoping the flippers would have the same vision we had and that they’d bring it back to its original, stunning character. Everyone was talking about this particular house; and they still are. It’s all done now, and if you like the modern version of an old, farmhouse, you’d like this renovation. But it’s as if the old, Victorian charmer was never even there. So far, everyone I’ve talked to wishes that we’d gotten it. In my opinion, taking an antebellum-style home and making it look like the houses you’ll find in every new subdivision is kind of backwards.

Bill and I are presently renovating a village home in The Goodyear Village in Rockmart. We are basing everything we do on maintaining the character of the old village. Sure, we could make the cottage stand out by creating a farm-house there on the corner; but it would be as out of place as I was, when I wore a brown suit to a Harry Norman Christmas party.

The last house we did was one that our aunt built in 1955. So what did we do? We found pictures of homes built in 1955 and we redesigned it to fit the original style. Bill furnished it with midcentury-modern furniture. If you go there now, it’s like stepping back in time, to 1955, and walking around in a new house from that period. Where the floor needed patching, we found old wood. Everything we did, we tried to keep the original charm in mind.

Flipping is hard work sometimes. This is why you’ll find plenty of houses where the demo is either underway or complete. I can almost understand why these houses are often offered for sale at that point. This is when we look around and feel overwhelmed. To be honest, this stage can be difficult for anyone. You’ll always find something you weren’t expecting. This is the only thing we seem to have in common with the popular HGTV shows; someone is always going to say, “You may want to come in here and have a look at this.”

Only we don’t get to cut to a commercial. And this will happen almost daily. We’ve learned to deal with it. You cannot let these things get to you; putting a sign up at this point will result in a loss.

Speaking of dealing with it, Bill has learned how to estimate any job and his method is the most accurate method there is. We’ll look at a project and Bill will ask me to come in and give him my estimate on the total costs. He nods and says, “Okay, I got it.” He doubles my guestimate and that has proven to be almost exact in every case. This is where having a good ol’ boy and a business major from UGA works out great.

I wish I had known to do this when Susan and I built our own home. It ended up costing almost exactly twice what I said it would; I didn’t know to double it back then.

The Upside

 

Experts are saying that inflation has hit Americans harder than expected; if someone did not see this coming, I don’t know why we’d call them an expert.

The feds are definitely going to pull back on bonds in the coming weeks. And in the summer of 2022, interest rates are going to start going up. Houses will be selling like hotcakes through the month of June and then it will begin to slow down. Prices, however, will not be going down. Prices only go down when money is worth as much as the printed value on it; that’s not the case post-inflation.

Incomes will be greatly improved by the summer. This has nothing to do with policymakers pushing for higher, minimum wages; it’s going to be fueled by the demand for workers. Employers who want to survive this transition are going to have to pay much higher wages and give up a lot of their bottom line. The upside to doing so will be the ability to remain viable until inflation catches up with the reset. Absolutely everything is going to cost more; much more. Every retailer or service provider will have to make rationing decisions and slow their own growth so as not to become kindling for the changes in the markets. Wages and prices will need to go up. Any employer who refuses to raise wages will not recover their workforce and without a workforce, they’ll fail.

Home prices will continue to go up. So will everything else. As wages are increased, affordability will meet the new prices. Personal, fiscal growth is still going to be doable, and small companies could capitalize by hiring the best workers while the huge, super-retailers refuse to give up massive profits they typically enjoy by paying very little for products, and paying very low wages.

This could be the end of huge department stores and the beginning of a new kind of opportunity for startups. Quality is key. Hire the best workers and pay them well. Sell the best products and provide the best services and build a strong, small company while the mega-stores struggle to find people who will work for almost nothing.

Just a few years ago, most mom-and-pop companies had to sell out or give up under the pressure of super-chains. I think we may see the opposite scenario taking place soon. Workers are holding out for better wages and consumers are looking for higher quality and better services. These ideas go against everything that makes a mega-store or a monopoly.

This is not gloom and doom… unless you are a Superstore that was doing really well when you could buy really cheap products and have them shipped for very little, while paying your workforce just enough to buy some of the junk you were peddling.

 

 

Navigating

 

I am so thankful to be here. After an illness last week, my entire perspective was jolted. It came just as my dear friend David, was being lowered into the earth. Those events, when coupled, caused a spike in my awareness. While the events are dreadful, I hope I can keep the energy of this spike. It feels so wonderful in my soul.

I think it is a good idea to give the self some things to do. Many of today’s teacher’s call the self; ego. For some reason, I have yet to embrace that. It carries a connotation that maybe the self has to be selfish. This may not be so. I think we may be able to train the self.

When I think of the self now, I think of it as my thing. The self is a subordinate to The I AM. What has only just come to light for me is that the self is very unaware of its status as a servant. The self is not a power-grabber, but all of its thoughts assure it that it is doing everything own its own. One way to think of this is to consider other people you know. Do you feel a separation from yourself and those other selves? You probably do. I know I do. But then, let us consider the category, Life. Are those other people a part of Life? Are you are part of Life? Somehow, while we think of ourselves as individuals, at the same time, we accept the fact that we are also a small part of a bigger picture; whatever that picture is. I am not Everything, but I am a part of It. With this understanding in mind, let us come back to the self and simply observe any self at all. As an Observer, it is very easy to see that every self has its uniqueness. One characteristic present in every self, is the mind in the mechanical room of each self. To say that the mind is unaware is not really fair. It is extremely aware of the functions of itself. However, it is not the duty of the mind to grasp what is “out there”. Think of the self as having been trained to operate the machine that gives it life. It is not unlike legs, hands, eyes and so on. If you have two legs and if you are familiar with walking on them, you can see that it serves you best if your legs only concern themselves with the body perched above them. Can you imagine trying to make your legs aware of other bodies that may also need mobility? Your legs would lose track of their mission and, in their confusion, they’d fail you in order to see what they could do for others. So the self, running all of the controls in the mechanical room of your individual machine, constantly works to keep the machine running. One by one, it will solve problems without worrying about what may exist aside from its machine. In fact, it will actually attempt to put everything in a logical, local category. Give it a word and watch what it does. This can be entertaining. The self in every individual is a decorated soldier. This soldier is trained to be extremely disciplined. The self does not cry. The soldier in you can tell when you are crying; he rolls his eyes and causes your hand to reach for a towel. He sends commands like, “Stop. Focus. Regroup. Straighten up. Get a grip.”

That is his duty to the machine. The self does not care what it is that is making you cry. This proud, decorated soldier calls it a storm and he starts yelling commands to every hand on the ship of your experience. With every surge, the soldier says, “Stay with me; we’ve got to get through this.”

Throughout your life, you will find yourself in waters like this and, if you will observe carefully, you can see the work of the soldier in real time. Your eyes may fill with tears and you may feel tremendous heartache and you may hear yourself saying, “I don’t know why I cannot stop crying.”

In such a moment, you can see two distinct characteristics present within you. One is filled with grief or sympathy or empathy or love. One is building a resistance to these categories as quickly as possible. You’ll notice that there is something about yourself that says, “We cannot remain in this dreadfully raw place and function in this real world.”

At the same time, you will probably notice The I AM saying, “Fine, but the feelings will remain. I’ll just try to spare the self from as much exposure as possible.”

In every case of grief, the self eventually emerges. He has saved his ship. Oftentimes you will hear someone say, “I am still standing!”

When someone says this, they are not saying that they’ve overcome the sadness; they are saying that the machine has been refitted to carry on with the new information.

That’s right; to your soul, it is not just information. Your heart has broken. Your life has changed. There is sadness. But to the self, a few new boards are brought in and a wall is thrown up to hold back the emotional part of this new situation.

You’ll see this in your own experience when a loved one dies. At first, it has the capacity to cripple your ship, but you know you mustn’t allow the situation to take you to the bottom of the sea. In most cases, day by day, you’ll find yourself engaging in routine events again; in spite of the fact that the loss is still very real.

As The Observer you are, you can hover over this situation with The Light of Awareness and you can see how both sides are getting on. Shining the light on the self, you’ll notice new safeguards and supports in place. The self may gather friends and ask for support in order to regain the ship and this is a very good idea. Then if you take the same Lamp and shine it on The I AM, you’ll see that the feelings are all still there. The emotions are there. The I AM is also relying on the support of friends, but It needs and wants to get to The I AM in them. The pain and rawness of the event recolors the water around your ship and it may even appear red to your Awareness. You see this color changing the very Ocean of your own existence and you know it has begun to reshape the entire Ocean forever. The waves will be different now. The tide may be different. Your “I AM” has affected the entire experience for yourself and everyone else; forever and throughout all space. In a case where you’ve lost a loved one, the very buoyancy of your own ship will likely increase; making navigation easier on the self; that determined soldier in your wheelhouse.

This is how our loved ones remain with us forever. In the physical sense, we can observe the ship and notice their absence, but if we allow a look by The Observer in us, we will see our loved one’s impact on The Sea of Life. If we are honest with our mighty soldier, the self, we cannot ignore the changes in The Sea. The self has the data too. That’s why, if you consider the machine you are riding in, you’ll notice more resilience in certain, affected areas. A good soldier will guide you around your own ship and say things like, “See, I made it through that day without tears.” And later on, “I’ve been through a lot and I am stronger as a result.”

These are the words of your captain. Without him, you’ll go mad. Let him do his job. Let him reach for towels and let him have friends. It is not his job to file any kind of emotion at all. It is his job to stop those files from contaminating the machine. That’s healthy and normal. The captain will make yourself stronger.