First things first: your October playlist. Brought to you by yours truly.

We all search for a muse, some find it in the comings and goings of external entities while others find it in the flora and fauna of a life, well-tended. We all seek inspiration but are stirred by very different forms of inspiration. Is it structure, function, finding, losing, asking or answering? Is it delicate order or disarray that we find more compelling? Is it an idea or an image that attracts us...or are those two interchangeable?

Sometimes muses are hard to come by, perhaps that is why most beget obsession or possession. How can we be fully ignited and enthralled, yet separate, from these muses? How can we engage and participate in the narrative that unfolds yet recognize the reality. The reality that any muse merely mirrors that which exists in the bystander. So when you find something, someone, some place, some day that ignites a certain creativity and freedom, simply thank it for unlocking that which existed within you. These Muses, I call keys, for they are the tools with which an internal space is unlocked. Those spaces can hold truth and value and beauty. Can you imagine never taking a step into them? Never realizing that they were there all along? As we build these keychains we create worlds with all the unlocked rooms and while we have no need to worship these keys, we hold them close and are reminded often of the unlocking--They deserve our gratitude not our praise.

Revel in the journey it took to see more, do more, be more. The expansion has taken your whole life up to this day and will continue for the rest of it. Pieces aren’t lost, just gained. That child you were is just as present as the grandparent you will be. That apprentice you embodied exists within the mentor you become. We begin to see there aren’t beginnings and endings, just evolution. As we evolve we begin to understand that there may not be one grand arrival, nor should there be. We arrive and depart in a thousand ways everyday. When we learn to revel in this gradual expansion we can begin the process of seeing ourselves as the greatest Muse. We are, after all, the creators of that which we see. A flower cannot be beautiful, nor the sun radiant, nor a breeze cool without a witness to perceive these supposed qualities. But then an unavoidable suspicion comes knocking…of otherness. That the existence of the world and its contents are not subject to our perception, even though their qualities may be. There is a world without us, apart from us, in spite of us, and It is here that we surrender any silent omnipotence we may have collected along the way. The created can create but must not mistake itself for the creator.

All Hallows eve (high brow way to say halloween) has me in some sort of stream of consciousness

Stay with me. Buckle up and stay with me.

October 31st is inevitably accompanied by some sort of embellishment on death. Death brings the concept of aging to mind because, after all, most of us die as a result of many years in one body-- unless we live in a Sleepy hollow, Disturbia, Psycho universe. In which case, say hi to Shia Labeouf for me.

Our world seems somewhat perplexed on the concept of aging. Do we defy it? Do we accept it? Do we mourn it? Do we lowball our age so that people don’t think we are “too old” or highball it so that we suddenly look impeccable? Between the subtle nip and tuck and the memberships and the creams and the motionless faces it seems like figuring out age is occupying far too much time for far too many of us,

So what is our alternative? other than hermetism...hermitage...hermantics... well…becoming a hermit.

Can we pursue aging as we did when we were on the cusp of adulthood, or When we were about to jump into that higher grade or when we caught attention from those stylish, funny, inspiring, older kids? At one time we couldn’t wait for the next year. We wore each day like a badge of honor because we saw the addition of years not as an inhibitor but as a catalyst to— respect, knowledge, repute, experience, and opportunity. 

Somehow, down the line, we begin to believe that age is to be avoided like the plague. Like a dream-crushing, passion-stifling, momentum-halting… plague. I don’t want to avoid age in myself or others, I want to see age as an enhancement, a blooming, and a GAIn. I want to seek it out like young Squints sought out mature Wendy Peffercorn.

I want to see age as synonymous to living and living as the greatest good.

I don’t want “plenty of time”, I want “time is of the essence”.

I don’t want a blank slate, I want a full plate.

Full of people and places and love and loss and laughing and crying and loneliness and togetherness and learning and teaching and savoring and releasing.

Bring on the wrinkles, the achy bones, and the depends. I’ll use sunshine to achieve that youthful glow, and cold rivers to soak my weary bones (plus I can pee in the river...so that’s a two-for!). 

And Speaking of a full life…

Can we have peace in the prospect of death yet feel so much love for life that we wish it wouldn’t end? And Can we have peace knowing that there will be things left undone but that doesn't mean it was all for naught?

Moral of the story: If you find the dinner conversation on this all Hallow’s eve to be dull, bring up death. The possibilities for where that conversation will go are endless. 

And that, my friends, is my full-circle, Halloween stream of consciousness. Ta-da!

Nothing Gold Can Stay

"Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day

Nothing gold can stay."

-Robert Frost

This Fall has me in a Gilmore Girls trance. What can I say...I knew exactly what I was doing when I pressed season 1 episode 1...but I did it anyway.

The town of Stars Hollow provides an autumnal escape and the amount of literature and film references rival any other show I have watched. I present you with some of Buzzfeed’s best work… A comprehensive list of Movies and Books mentioned in the beloved Gilmore Girls world that most of us know, love, and wish existed.

I find most days that I am in search of le mot juste: “the perfect word”. 

You know that feeling when the next word is on the tip of your tongue but you haven't quite selected the verbage yet. You don’t know exactly what you are looking for but you know what it will feel like when it is spoken.I have decided that I will call Those seconds or minutes before choosing the word, my “le mot juste moment”. I will not move on or surrender in this noble quest to find the “perfect word” because it is a great success when you do land on the one that fits the occasion just right.

What will happen this month? what will happen tomorrow when we wake up? What will happen when I utter these words, when I look over there, when I stay right here? Our moments are filled with mystery, anything could happen and that is thrilling. But somehow we lose sight of the thrill and become immune to the magic of possibility. Maybe it’s because we think we’ve been here before. But we haven’t. We have never been here, ever before.

Have a thrilling October, It is the first one you have ever lived.