Less Flappy, More Happy

Follow-up to I am Presently Failing – Part 1

To recap where we left off, I had been overclocking at an accelerating velocity over the possibility my little flight into writing had been booked on Icarus Airlines. That had crescendoed in a vivid waking dream Sunday morning where I was trapped in a cave with an opening too narrow to escape knowing I needed to find a way out; and then that dream had lingered even after waking up.

Let’s pick the story up there.

The dream hadn’t felt like just a dream. It felt like I was supposed to actually solve The Cave Riddle.

It sounds sort of amusingly crazy/new-agey-message-from-the-universe now but at the time, it literally felt like I was supposed to solve the damn thing. So, I left the house without any plans and reflexively headed to get coffee; and then equally reflexively headed for a corporate office park nearby.

Now, my last day actually working in an office building was November 2^nd, 2007… and yet, I reflexively drove to one.

(See what I’m doing here? I’m building up the intrigue.)

Unfortunately, I can only build it up so much because there’s no intrigue. I just like to walk around parking lots. Office parking lots. Not malls or restaurants or parks. The parking lots at office buildings. And, occasionally, train stations.

That started over COVID but only became an informal routine a couple months ago. One day, I had woken up stuck with a narrative problem in something I was writing. The day before, I had somehow managed to write two halves which no longer met in the middle. I needed to find some way to bridge the two and I didn’t have one. I had gone to bed spinning my wheels and had woken up knowing I needed a fix and only had a few hours to find one.

So, after dropping my son to school, I went and parked in a lot; got out of the car; and just… paced about. I just sort of Roomba’ed around the lot randomly.

And then, as if it were a leaf released from somewhere high in the golden canopy of the God-tree of Writing, the answer just floated down to me… and then settled gently into my cupped hands; and with it in hand, I got in my car and drove off to write.

The next time I got stuck, I did the same thing:. School dropoff; drive to parking lot; Roomba about the place… And then the same thing happened: Golden leaf. Outstretched hands. Yadda yadda.

With parking lots then cemented (Pun intended) as places where I think easily and clearly, I started doing these morning pace-abouts routinely. They were a bridge. A transition from the morning bustle into the settled required for writing. And now, I love them. These damn parking lot walks. I love them.

Sunday’s walk was to be the most serious test to date of The Parking Lot Method though.

So, fast-forward back to that scene…

It’s, like, 7:00 in the morning or something… I had already been hardcore overclocking as it was and now I’m all wound up about some damn dream riddle which may or may not have been some either subconscious or astral nudge to arrive at great enlightenment… and I’m pacing about an empty office park.

So, I’m ambling about thinking about the damn cave puzzle…

The dream-me had already thought through all of the very linear first thoughts ya might have in that situation: Is there another way out? Can I somehow make the opening wider? Is there anything I can use?

I had nothing. I mean, this entire puzzle was contrived and the information was incomplete but at this point, I had myself pretty solidly invested in solving the sleep riddle sent from beyond and was getting pretty bent about not doing so.

So then I was like “Dude, WHY do you care so much about the damn cave thing?”

The answer was because I thought it was a proxy for my real-life problem: not being on a trajectory to make a go of this and needing to find a way to pull up.

I thought The Cave Riddle descended as a celestial allegory so as to allow me to solve both it and my actual problem. Get out of the dream-cave, get out of my own.

I know it doesn’t sound entirely sane now that I write it but it was really early and I hadn’t slept well and I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately so just go with it.

Anyway, having admitted to myself that I was looking for a proxy to my own problem, I then Roomba’ed about some more thinking about whether The Cave Riddle was actually that. Was it a good proxy? It felt like it. I mean, the dream feeling was absolute dead on for how I have been feeling in my current little midflight stall.

Was the setup right though? A cave. A narrow opening. Is that the actual position I’m in?

And then… right at that very moment… there upon the sweet morning breeze lush with the sweet perfume of spring came a golden leaf.

Down, down, it gently flitted…

…until it landed…

…right in my outstretched hands.

And the problem was solved.

Somewhere off in the distance, a lone clarion trumpeted the news. (No, they didn’t.) And then great rejoicing rang out across the quiet campus! (It was really just me but I yelled a little. That part happened.)

The Parking Lot Method had solved both The Cave Riddle and my own…

ALL HAIL THE PARKING LOT METHOD! LONG LIVE THE PARKING LOT!

That golden leaf unlocked the riddle and the answer led to my solution for where this Substack feed goes next…

To keep these short, I’ve broken those two topics into separate entries. You can decide whether you want to read one, both, or neither. The entries:

1. Solving the Cave Riddle – arriving at the answer that flitted down like a golden leaf

2. Hoarse Whisperings 2.0 – the plan I have in mind for the next iteration of this Substack - to be published tomorrow, Thursday.