I almost started this blog entry with an apology to readers for delving too much into thoughts and not enough into actions lately but only because I’m looking at a set of stamps entitled “MUSCLE CARS: AMERICA ON THE MOVE,” which invites me to jump behind the steering wheel and burn rubber.

A song jumped into my thoughts this afternoon: “I Heard It On The Grapevine.”  What a doozy!

I have a business plan to complete tomorrow and a video to record later this week as my Kickstarter campaign nears its launch date.  Not sure which parts to include as part of a robot construction package.  Also, should I have a combined campaign or launch a separate project on PledgeMusic?

My mechatronic children are going to miss their new playmates, I can tell you — a desktop lamp has its shade pulled down in sadness, for instance.

But that’s okay.  Change is good.

With only 13401 days to go, I’ve got some significant fundraising to promote.

I can no longer sit on the fence and watch the world rush past me at this crossroads of life.

I admit that sitting here is scarier than taking action, action which takes up my energy and reduces me idle thoughts.

That’s okay, too.  Variety is good.

I can slip in and out of the colloquial without noticing.

What I’ll discover is the difference between a person who hugs politely, a person who hugs for comfort and a person who doesn’t hug at all.

Just like the fact that land wars are declared in order to test new technology and deplete the stock of old technology.

For whom are the lyrics of a song written?  What undertones and undercurrents are designed into the melody?

I know if I want the brass ring, it’s not going to jump into my hand, no matter how far outstretched it may be, then I better make the grab while I can.

The person who can jump in and tell the story with me the quickest — that’s what I’m talking about.

A true model citizen.

What are you looking for in the long run — a single person to be your one and only or a plethora, a cornucopia of tastes?

I hope to make everyone I meet a better person than before, whatever better may mean in the moment.

How many of us can keep putting ourselves out there and give and give and give without end?  How do we recycle energy to keep recharged?

What defines us?  Our vocation?  Our social network?  Our possessions?  Our family?

When you’re talking alone with someone, is your conversation any different than when someone else is in the room?

The years of chronic pain in the tensed muscles of my shoulders hunched over in anticipation of being beaten by my father are slowly dissipating.  I no longer have to fear his passive-aggressive love, never sure if a hug was coming or a smack in the face, physical and/or verbal.

Hugging someone without fear is a tremendous feeling.  So is dancing with someone without fear while letting my emotional state and set of thoughts rest in my fingertips, palms, forearm, biceps, shoulders, neck and back.

The passive-aggressive relationship with my father is partially tied into the relationship between my wife and me and it is damn hard work to overcome old habits tied to responding to passive-aggressive people as a chameleon personality.

Maybe I should summarise this blog in a single phrase: dancing is mental AND physical therapy.

Abi, as our dance instructor, is like my father — I’m never sure from moment to moment if she’s going to praise or criticize me.  Last night, when I saw a deep-seated fear briefly flash in Jenn’s eyes, I realised that the old fears of my father were showing on my face and in my reactions to Abi, and wanted to run as fast and as far away from the dance studio as my legs and lungs could take me but I was attached to Jenn, who herself seemed to have withdrawn a little.

It was a revealing moment for me, if not for her, showing me why dancing with her was so much different when only my wife was watching us than when Abi and my wife were watching.

Enough of thought set reconfiguration, although it is fun to write about what goes through my thoughts in these personally enlightening moments to complete the circle of the mental/physical therapy.

Time for action, assisting my wife, Abi and Jenn get whatever it is out of me, this humble set of states of energy, that makes them better than they were before, maybe even happier — some of our goals are aligned but not every single one of them, as it should be.  Hopefully, I’ll be better and happier, too.  I sure plan to be!