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Dan Caiola

@card042

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You always said people don't do what they believe in, they just do what's most convenient, then they repent

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These days, if I feel like adding anything to the void, I invariably sneak in cryptic musings about life and mortality, and drone on and on. Most of the time I say nothing at all, with the thinking that the world would be better if more people did the same, as silence can be misunderstood, but never misquoted.

And so then, some leaven to my usual dour programming.

A celebration of what is, on the bright side. by @card042

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2 years ago

"Travel and tell no one, live a true love story and tell no one, live happily and tell no one, people ruin beautiful things."

These two embody for me the best parts of one of my favorite quotes. They've always been too busy building a wonderful life together to bother worrying about anything else.

Their day yesterday was absolutely wonderful, and I'm several sorts of happy and grateful that everyone got to peek through such a lovely little window into the world they've built for each other, and of course their amazing little man Mason. by @card042

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2 years ago

It was always later than it seems. by @card042

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3 years ago

You hear a lot of talk about fresh starts and new beginnings this time of year. It's easy talk. Cheap talk. Take those people with a grain of salt.

The truth is, you were someone the day before today, and all your days before that as well. Today is comprised of nothing more or less than yesterday, except that it's 'now.'

If you're on a good streak, keep at it. If you're feeling stuck, or lost, or worse; remember you're in good company, and the important thing is to keep swimming.

It doesn’t matter so much how you got here, just that you remember you're the one in charge. You're the one writing your story. What comes next is up to you. Whatever you’re wanting? Get clear on it. Draw a circle around it in your mind. And then step towards it, in some way great or small.

And carry this thought with you: when given a choice, pick the things that'll work out better for you in the long run. Keep at it, and soon enough, you'll find you've built something solid out of all those choices. You’ll trust yourself too, which is an incredibly underrated feeling in this mad world.

Sure it'll still rain, there'll be bad days and bad breaks and all sorts of nonsense – that’s never gonna change. But come what may, rain or shine and tomorrow, you’re the main character and the author of your life’s story. Be active in deciding how that story goes. by @card042

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3 years ago

by @card042

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3 years ago

As this year - and all our years - draws to a close, and the silent snow blankets our worlds with a hush, I hope we find the courage to reveal our true selves. I hope you show your scars, I hope you share your stories without fear. It's in this spirit of truth and vulnerability that I extend from the quiet corner of my little world to yours, a Merry Christmas.

With all the sincerity that words can convey and the silent understanding that they often cannot,

-Dan by @card042

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3 years ago

In the heart of winter's shadow, in the deepest darkness on the shortest day; the Oak King of Celtic lore triumphs, heralding a silent promise.

Here, in this ancient dance, the dead season relents, and whispers of rebirth.

As is foretold the Holly King yields, and so too does the night, as we, standing in the cold stillness, await the slow, sure return of light.

It's in this stark, unyielding moment of change where hope stirs and kindles life anew, as recorded the same by countless civilizations of antiquity. A testament to the resilience woven through the fabric of nature itself. by @card042

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3 years ago

'Whatever the hell happens, you say, "This is what I need."' That was Joseph Campbell's lightning bolt when Nietzsche clicked for him.

Giants, both.

Me, I'm having a party of one in this kitchen making cocktails fated to live and die nameless, music turned up as loud as it can go.

Cheers to me, and each of them.

But in my defense, I'm thinking about a collection of books I saw once at an estate sale. I would've liked to have met that man, who'd spent his life chasing and thumbing through the pages gathered there. I would've asked him what made him smile most as he read.

Meanwhile so many are afflicted by the thought-disease that looks and likes will change our lives - and they don't even know or like the followers, and they're trying to impress them and collect them just the same.

A crazy game to play. Lives wasted currying the affection of people we don't even like.

Far better to have five people in your life you'd kill for than the passing acceptance of all the strangers lined up on end. And in case you were looking for something else, it's the connections and lessons we carry that'll give you that full feeling the moment you realize you'll never buy another calendar.

And if there is a hereafter, I can't imagine a single soul that'd be more interested in counting cars at their funeral than the people they miss, or the ones they're finally seeing again.

Cheers to that too. by @card042

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3 years ago

This is the book I'd like to write, for anyone who has ever asked.

A jumbled pile of envelopes full of scribbles; different sizes, and torn and ungainly. I particularly like that it wouldn't make any sense to print or put together, a limited run of one.

My nod to Kafka, who left explicit instructions to burn everything he wrote when he died, for all the good it did him. His fate sealed to remain eternally above reproach in his sincerity. by @card042

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3 years ago

Being a fitful sleeper at best, it’s no strange thing to begin a long put-off project at all hours. On this particular evening I was gathering to turn in when I heard a knock at the door, only to find no one there.

Now awake, I decided I felt compelled to begin hanging mirrors in the stairwell, the windowless one. As I worked, the knocking I may have imagined became my metronome; and with each placement it felt like the knocking was growing more insistent. Only when the echoes of my work fell silent would the knocking stop - or so I imagined - until there were seven mirrors, and silence.

And then there was the unmistakable sound of the door below opening, and then closing. And then, nothing.

Just me, in the hush I stood – amid reflections upon reflections. But what lies beyond the threshold of all these reflections? And in this cascade of infinite gazes, what truths am I really seeking? And who looks back through this interplay of light and shadow; what specters peer through the glass, are they wishing to understand their reflection in this world? And now in this stairwell of footfalls and shadows and echoes, who is the visitor and who is the host?

What gazes back when we look into our mirrors, or is it only us, and our imaginations? by @card042

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3 years ago

I asked a girl once about love, what it meant to her. "I want to feel like I belong," she said. "Love should feel like home." Me, I hear music in moments like that. And I daydream about the places I've been and building worlds. It unfolds like a Wes Anderson movie, except it's calamitous and disjointed. Now here's a word I use a lot when there's a whole bunch of feelings but the puzzle pieces don't fit right. Synapses firing but not wiring.

The seasons in my life are no different. I'll spare you now a very morbid but essential premise to everything Camus came to know; but it's curiosity, that's what keeps me going. One day there are dreams of world-building, and then the decline away from every great moment that follows. Those same quixotic journeys solely to get lost, because our thoughts are really always of home, aren't they? We'd know nothing of the world if we didn't start there, to have something to compare it all to, and to take it all back to after the fact.

And don't we all want the same things? It's just the words and the pictures and the plans, it's all so hard to get right. And always it's another season.

"To become what one is, one must not have the faintest notion of what one is... The whole surface of consciousness - for consciousness -is- a surface - must be kept clear of all great imperatives. Beware even of every great word, every great pose! So many dangers that the instinct comes too soon to 'understand itself'"

That's Nietzsche, and the jist is really that we shouldn't pay too much attention to anything really, or anything that grows just for a season. Not words either, or grand gestures, or who people are busy pretending to be - and that includes you and me too.

That's what the seasons are for, sweeping away all the figuring and changes and spurts of disjointedness. It's a material-gathering for what we'll point to once it clicks and she's home and all of my words match my roads and my music and everyone nods back. Because it should mean something different for you as well. by @card042

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3 years ago

Christopher Hitchens said one time about how life as he knew it then was like a party. I've been to my share and they all wind down eventually. The thing about this party, the living kind, is you're deep in talk, the room's warm, and the music's good. And then there's a hand on your shoulder, a man leans in close, he whispers that it's time to go. And the party goes on - laughter, music, the whole thing. Life doesn't pause for anyone. The music keeps playing, the same laughter, the same jokes, the same smiles. Someone is making plans for next summer, a door closes. He was talking about dying.

What’s that got to do with these pictures?

Well this was purgatory once, being there, and I knew it. I wrote it in the sand, I said it out loud, it was all over my face - for all the good any of that would do. Onward. Regardless of the song or the scene or the sunset, that's our lot.

And I think I've lived through whatever that feeling is at least seven times now that I can count - I wished one morning to get a whole year back - always wondering about why does it go like this? But what else is there?

You go on, no matter the tune, the backdrop, or the color of the sky. That's the bargain, and the best I can offer is that perspective is the closest thing to an antidote for all the things we can't understand, slow down, change, or stop. None of it can make sense until it’s over anyway, and so you keep moving forward because it's alright, and that's the only way. by @card042

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3 years ago