Emotional GunSlinger

It's 2:49 AM, Pacific Standard Time. I'm in Scottsdale, Arizona. I'm awake because I want to be. Because I choose to be. Because of my burning desire to write. Not because I can't sleep. 

Writing often feels like drumming to me. Both are co-creations between, Me, You, and Source. The UnHoly Trinity. I play drums, I write, as a means to express myself. As a way to communicate. As a way to connect. To Myself. To You. To Spirit. When I drum and when I write, I let you see me. I open up and let you peek inside. When you watch me drum or read my words, you engage with me. Even if I can't see you. I can feel you. Like a circuit of High Voltage Energy, we give and take with each other, perpetually. Energetically. Spiritually. You participate in this dance. You are indispensable. 

Writing, and drumming, without sharing, has it's place. Honing skills in private allows us to develop the magical repertoire we need to shoot from the hip. And shooting from the hip is essential. There's thought to it, yes, but it's not about thought. It's about heart. I'm an Emotional GunSlinger. And, like a GunSlinger in the tradition of The American Western, we get it on from the inside out. We fire from the heart and go with our gut. 

I'm not much for small talk. I'd much rather know what we feel, what we think. I want to know what turns you on, what you love. Who you love. What excites us? What makes our blood boil? What ignites our passion and fires our intensity? What could we talk about all night, the next day, and into next week? What are we so curious about that we always want to know more?  

I get this trait from my dad. He hated small talk. Even if he just met you, if the conversation didn't evolve into something more interesting than the weather within fifteen minutes, he would get bored and disinterested. That doesn't mean you had to get heavy with him, but you had to get real. About something. Actually, if you love talking about, say the weather, that would work for him. If you are passionate about meteorology, he would pick up on that and jam with you. I'm a huge weather freak. Not the "What a nice day it is!" Kind, but the kind who's deeply fascinated by the science behind it. Like a kid who could spend the whole day playing with Legos, I'm insatiably interested and curious about the what, the why, of the weather. And lots of other things.

During treatment in transitional living, I had the opportunity to meet with the director of The Camden Center (the facility I was at), Dr. Jason Shiffman, twice. That's rare, because most clients don't get any one on one time with him. I had a situation that presented the chance to meet with him on two occasions, and we got on like a house on fire. His dog was with him the second time we met, and his dog's name is Io (pronounced "eye-oh). I recognized that name as one of the four Galilean moons of Jupiter, and we started riffing about astronomy. He asked me what I did, and I told him I was a drummer. Jason is a musician as well, and that lead to a long talk about drumming and the fact that he met Stewart Copeland, the drummer for The Police (and one of my biggest influences).

I told Jason that my friend, and former Genius Coach, Otto Siegel, once asked me, "Clint, do you know a lot about a little, or a little about a lot?". I immediately told him that "I know a lot about a lot". That's because of my passion and my curiosity. It drives me to dig deep, and it drives me to dig deep about what fascinates me. And a lot of shit fascinates me. So I'm driven by both depth and breadth. 

The point here is that because Jason and I got real with each other quickly, we connected right away. We were both passionate and fascinated by mutual subjects, and when we talked about them, our mutual fire burned hot and bright. The half hour we spent together was not only incredibly pleasant for both of us, but it went by in a heart beat. But, in that heartbeat, we felt each other. We saw each other. We got each other. And there is nothing more beautiful to me than that. 

One of the most painful consequences of opening up so that another can get you, and allowing yourself to get someone else, is, if that relationship ends, there is big sense of loss. The deeper you dive with another person, the closer you get. And the closer you get, the more connected you feel. So if that connection gets broken, for any reason, there is an energetic loss. There is now a hole inside of you that that person occupied. Sometimes, it's a big hole. Because that person meant the world to you.

I'm feeling that right now. About someone who I was going to share my life with. We were both Emotional Gunslingers with each other. I never felt so connected, to anyone, before. And she's gone. That hole is still there. It fills slowly.

I keep shooting from the hip. I keep laying it out there. It's how I roll. Roll with me. If you read me, stick around. I need you. 

©2017 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.