The Trench Take Goes on Hiatus

Leo Carrillo Beach, LA
January 2009

There are 220 individual pieces of writing here. Some short, others chapter length. Two years worth (which I am ever so gradually editing into a book which is approaching 400 pages in length). Perhaps these inventions have lead to the point of this purposeful hiatus.

Rather frequently, I have strayed from my intended blog track – living small, off the grid, with voluntary simplicity and a resource conservation mentality – a process we have been on for some time and hope to fully realize in our lives. The nightmarish event? The first federal government bailout in September of 2008 (Ed. 6/6/11: The crime well-depicted in Inside Job), which signaled America's arrival at a crossroads, and abruptly reminded us to consider our concept and pursuit.

Today, I know that we are not alone. No fear in our hearts. Peace of mind. There is nothing more I can write, or say, about flagging institutions and systems or thinking collaboratively and inventively, living small with voluntary simplicity. We're reading from a pre-ordained book of history. What will happen, will happen. Make an effort or not, we are forever connected with each other and Nature. Our very survival depends on openness, the free and constant exchange of ideas. It always has.

To the few, with whom I am closest, my family, their turn has arrived. I am fully engaged on their behalf, writing up a life story – quite an amazing process.

As a college classmate recently told me, he has a method for accepting new consulting work: he does so on "conditions." A peripatetic organizational consultant, he has earned that prerogative and donates much of his time. I like his approach, as well as the paraphrased suggestions of high school alum, author Tom Wolfe: [When writing a book, write 2,500 words a day. No matter what. Wait for inspiration and procrastination will arrive.] How true. Or, decades of experiences will grow mountainous.

Adapted, I am voluntarily sequestered from mass media news, talk shows, sundry interruptions, gossip, or worthy projects to write an autobiographical work and help produce a father-son documentary. Near solitary confinement calls upon this fun-bunny of a distracted writer, especially for this kind of narrative recollection and text which arrives not so effortlessly as a Trench Take instinctive response to current events, research, thought, or personal conversation.

A dream, an idea, a promise can linger in a mind, be the topic of truant, redundant and boorish dialogue for over 25 years, and suddenly and automatically appear as passionate pursuit, perhaps owing to life's ultimate trigger. Limited time. Amid this seemingly mad world, all other priorities are gradually dissolving into stillness in order to honor wistful familial requests and writer intention.

So, for now, I bid you a fond farewell and begin an overdue, joyous sojourn of unknown space and time out here in the wilderness of imagination and invention. My prayers are with you and your families. May you be close.