I’m cooked. On paper, I’m done. I’m a 73 year old man with no options left. The IRS is after me, debt collectors are sending demand notices that allow me to see “Pay to the order of” in the window of the envelope just so I’ll open it. Nice try.

The bank where I have my car note is getting an itchy trigger finger. It’s a chest tightening situation.

The job market is a gauntlet.

For more than a year, I’ve been groaning myself awake. I groan myself all the way to the coffee button. I’m totally isolated and I have a fugitive mentality.

I sneak up on my mailbox and I never pick up any of those long white envelopes. The condo I live in is so secluded it wreaks of “Witness Protection”. Sometimes I drive right by it.

I turn my computer off at night, so in the morning, in my darkened mood, I won’t be able to delete anything I’ve written until after a very lengthy boot up. At which time I might have come out of my mental basement.

My only respite is running. My religion.

Running releases energy, it doesn’t solve problems. Sometimes it makes things worse.

It was just after midnight last night when I got up. I think my groaning woke Izzy. The stories that my mind generate are stoking my adrenaline and have made my feet go numb.

The curse of an overactive imagination.

It is freezing. Good. I ease out of my front door at 1:10 am determined to run my demons off. At mile three, it ain’t working. Actually, I’m worse. I pick up the pace to stave off hyperventilation. No help.

When I get to Wells Fargo, I don’t take my scheduled right, I keep going. Taking that right would get me home sooner, but that would only put me face to face with someone I’ve been trying to avoid…me.

I cross R.H. Lawrence, heading to an epiphany or an early, earthly exit. At this moment, I don’t care.

A mile into unfamiliar territory, while gasping for breath, a word leaps into my consciousness…. surrender. Surrender.

Innately, I knew what it meant. I should surrender. Not because I’m tired or weary or disgusted or bored. I should surrender because I honestly don’t know what to do at the moment. I’ve done everything I can. With everything I can.

The outcome is not up to me anymore. It’s out of my control. So…I will surrender.

I stop and start walking a big wide circle on El Camino. Then everything lets go. Water everywhere. I’m howling now in joyous release. Lucky I was in a business district.

Surrender, what a beautiful word. In that moment, my shoulders drop and I realize…. I’m not a loser, I’m enough, I’m worthy, I’m supported, I’m complete, I’m connected, I’m whole and deserving.


I felt peace as soon as I said it.



Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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