Grand Island, NE House Concert Review

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The Spencer Family were my Hosts in Grand Island, NE

Steven Spencer and the family were so kind as to host me in Grand Island, Nebraska for this tour I just arrived home from a few days ago.

Steven wrote me an email with a review of the show. I was so stoked to finally have the opportunity to read it today.

While I may not make this painfully honest: my world and my dreams of playing music and telling my stories definitely hinges on the kindness of those who are willing to listen to them. My hope is that those who do listen, find humanity in my stories. The humanity is the story. It is the story of all of us.

I have no doubt where my place is in the world. It is doing what I am currently doing. Thank you Steven, for painting my endeavors in such a colorful and favorable light, as you have done here. I am immensely grateful to you and your family.

Here is Steven’s review of the concert:

I maintain that I am a somebody, who is a nobody, trying to be a somebody. I am immensely grateful for all the folks I meet along the way and who show me love and kindness and what it is to be a good person. I learn more on that with each of you that I meet. I hope to follow your course myself, in that trajectory, towards the heavens of good grace.

SOCIAL MEDIA

UPCOMING SHOWS

The Den Den—or Ver.

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I am currently in the Denver, Colorado. Arvada to be precise. It’s a gorgeous bedroom community just outside of Denver. A hop, skip, and a jump—perhaps one verb’s length further away in distance from the city. I wonder inwardly what the people of Denver call their fine city, in some sort of local colloquialism. Do you know what I mean?

People in the Bay Area call San Francisco “The City.” Maybe Denver has something like that too? Something to put inside quotation marks when they write down the name of their home in written English. Maybe in their local circles, they refer to their mother city as The Den Den. Or just Ver. I’ll work up the nerve to ask the locals when I get tired of typing words.

Maybe they just call it home. That wouldn’t surprise me. I’m typing this at a Starbuck’s a few blocks from the home of the house concert host I am playing at this evening.

Faulkner—smoking a pipe. Not Truong. He doesn’t smoke pipes.

Truong is his name. He’s a great guy. He’s an economist. His bookshelves are full of volumes of Economic Theory, Philosophy, History, and a skosh of Literature. You might imagine that they smell of Book, Cedar, Leather, and Scotch. They don’t—well, how do I know? I wasn’t smelling his books this morning, like a weirdo. I swear.

I saw one fiction book. “The Sound and The Fury” by William Faulkner. I’m willing to bet he came from a time when men took pictures with pipes—Faulkner, not my host. I don’t think he smokes a pipe.

We can wager next time. You shouldn’t have took that bet, reader… and I need to exercise better grammar. Truong doesn’t strike me as a gambling man either—then again, he is hosting a musician from Los Angeles tonight at his house concert series. Sounds a bit like a gamble. I could suck, or at the very least, be very low on the entertainment spectrum.

With that being said residents of Den Den: y’all should come hangout tonight. Everyone is gathering at 6pm at Truong’s place of residence. Music starts at 7pm. Shoot me a DM on the social media sites. Tonight. Tonight being Sunday August 13th. Bring your pipe, and maybe some alcohol, incase I’m not entertaining—or incase I am.

This is the last date of my tour outside of California this summer. Stay tuned for my Fall Tour in October and November of 2023 down yonder.

TOUR DATES

SOCIAL MEDIA

Mark Twain | A New Single August 18th 2023

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Samuel Langhorne Clemens

My next single is being released on August 18th on this year of our Lord, 2023. It is probably the most convoluted story I have ever told—perhaps beside The Incredible Shrinking Brain—but we will save the later for a different day.

Mark Twain. It’s a brilliant pen name for Samuel Langhorne Clemens. It’s riverboat slang. It was also the pen name of another riverboat pilot who wrote for a Riverboat Almanac. Samuel Clemens stole the idea from him. He admits to this notion in his book entitled “Life on the Mississippi.”

Regardless, it is a brilliant pen name if you examine it for what it is and what it represents. Mark Twain is a measurement of depth. Sounding boats and sounding poles were used by those navigating the murky waters of a muddy river that we are all familiar with as American Citizens: the Mississippi River. It has no rocky foundation to its deepest depths. It is a muddy river. It constantly changes in depths and sizes naturally due to this proclivity endowed to rivers of such quality. However, because of this—it is dangerous. A riverboat can easily run ashore, or find the unwelcome sand of a shoal, if not constantly checking the depth of the river using sounding boats and sounding poles. This is where the notion of marks and numbers come from. These depths would be shouted by those using the sounding poles, to measure depth, to those listening for their instruction as they piloted the vessel.

The Mississippi River in Hannibal, Missouri

Mark Twain means two fathoms deep. It is the cut-off between dangerous and safe passage. Mark Twain is the shallowest depth in which a riverboat may pass without peril or hazard. Mark Twain is the convergence of safe and dangerous; it is the point in which these two opposing outcomes meet.

Moving forward with this as a title—I found a curious story regarding Samuel Langhorne Clemens and Halley’s Comet:

Halley's Comet appeared in the sky when Mark Twain was born in 1835. The comet moves in a seventy-five or seventy-six-year orbit, and, as it neared Earth once again in the year 1909, Twain said,

I came in with Halley's Comet... It is coming again ... and I expect to go out with it... The Almighty has said, no doubt: 'Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.'

Hannibal, Missouri. Samuel Langhorne Clemen’s Childhood Home

Sure enough, he died on April 21, 1910, just as the comet made its next pass within sight of Earth.

I was born on April 21st 1979. That has no relevance to this story, and I’m sure it is quite coincidental.

This song, that I am releasing August 18th, tells the story of Halley’s Comet and our Sun. It also, can stand for something completely different. It can be representative. Metaphor. Hyperbolic. Whatever the case may be: I am proud of its words and music and to be releasing it as I hear it in my head. It is a tip of my hat to someone I admire and a love letter of sorts to a romantic idea. I can’t help but be carried away by the trade winds of whimsy. I prefer it, as I can’t imagine life without my creativity to put wind in my sails in the first place.

For you.

May we all be friends and find the beauty in one another, no matter how difficult or easy that proves to be, ultimately. Perhaps—perhaps there are intrinsic links that bind us all to one another, if not just within the matter which makes everything, the gravitational forces caused by mass and its manipulation of spacetime, and the loosely understood physics of such.

You can pre-save the song at this link:

PRE-SAVE LINK

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UPCOMING TOUR DATES

Who Is Mike Vitale?

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Mike Vitale (Photo Courtesy of Monika Lightstone Photography)

I spent hours yesterday updating this website. Good golly, there is so much that needs to be updated. Who would have thoughts its such a busy job updating when you are busy updating simply creating and living life without talking about the fact that one is creating or living life? Here is my latest bio update. One more serious, and a second—less serious:

Mike Vitale is a singer-songwriter based out of Los Angeles, CA. He is currently out touring the United States in support of a full length album called φ: 12 new songs written by Vitale over the course of the past several years, as well as 11 new singles he is releasing over the course of 2023, that will eventually lead to a complete 12 song album called DESERT DOGS.

The third single from DESERT DOGS was released on May 27th 2023 and is entitled "Coyote." It's a tip of the hat to the great cowboy country writers of the 1940's and 1950’s, to Mark Twain (quite possibly one of the funniest people I have ever read), and to the end of a long pandemic—finally being able to appreciate the fact that I can tour again, and to count the many blessings of good health and the freedom to roam that which has never been explored by me. I am so very lucky. We are all so very lucky to live in such a beautiful country full of natural splendor.

The fourth single from this record is being released Friday July 7th. Capturing the feeling of deep attraction when seeing a beauty across the bar from the narrator, "Drunk on Your Mystique" is a summer vibe, frothing with the energy and excitement behind a crush on a total stranger. It's music and lyrics convey the Caribbean local and estuary of a port city where people are free to indulge in the fantasy and reverie of romantic whimsy. I plan to play this song all over the U.S. on my tour that starts this week and to promote on socials and playlists.

DESERT DOGS is immediately available as a BANDCAMP download to anyone who would like to contribute to Mike’s 2023 tours through his GoFundMe page: https://gofund.me/e6dcc0b9

LESS SERIOUS?

Mike Vitale is a Singer-Songwriter/producer/forward-slash enthusiast, based out of Los Angeles, CA. Eagle Rock to be precise (come by for a cup of coffee with him). When not preoccupied with speaking in third-person about music related stuff, he enjoys short walks on long beaches with his two border collies, Border and Collie. He is certain that this sentence is useless, but also doesn’t believe in absolutes. The dogs may or may not be fictional. All the other stuff is probably true, especially if it involves putting one word in front of another while simultaneously singing those words over-predetermined blocks of music. Totally his idea (don’t steal it).

TOUR DATES

Verse 26 | Tao Te Ching | Tranquility and Seductions

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You will see many discrepancies with the translation of this verse. THIS is why I have so many copies of the Tao Te Ching, translated by various people. Translation—it's a strange strange beast. It's everything to truly understanding what is being conveyed.

Wow, this verse kicked my ass. I am very much guilty of losing sight of my tranquility. I could say that I let others take it from me—but that is not true.

I take it from myself. It does not matter what a person does or says: the response should be... nothing. Kindness. A smile.

I was just in a situation recently with an individual who pulled my ego out of me. Jung would refer to this, as an integrated shadow most likely. My shadow stood up for me. However, there are arguments to other courses of action. Choose-my-own adventure. That is life.

No matter what a person does or says to me: I need to be in control of my emotions. I need to draw my own boundaries when I feel that I am being pushed around or taken advantage of, or any number of other attributes or situations where my tranquility is being upended. My tranquility is my responsibility.

I have much to learn. I am also proud of myself for drawing boundaries with people. When someone says something to me that I don't agree with. Let them know, politely. Truth, my own truth, can be delicately laid. We do not need to be friends with every single person we meet in life. They deserve our respect, so long as they also respect us. If they do not, then there is no further conversation needed. Move on. There are 7.888 Billion people on this planet. Enjoy the company of another one of those from that lot.

What does Wayne Dyer have to say about this Verse? Let me skim and find out. Hold on. Well fancy that. He says much of what I just said:

LIVING CALMLY

"In this chapter of the Tao Te Ching, you’re being advised to maintain a sense of serenity regardless of what you may see taking place around you. Moreover, you’re being told that the true master knows that the ability to stay calm is always located within. From this perspective, there’s no need to assign responsibility to others for how you feel. Even though you may live in a world where blame and faultfinding are endemic, you will own your feelings and actions. You will know that circumstances don’t determine your state of mind, for that power rests with you. When you maintain a peaceful inner posture, even in the midst of chaos, you change your life.

The wisdom of this verse of the Tao Te Ching prompts you to know that you have a choice. Do you want to be in a state of confusion or to have a tranquil inner landscape? It’s up to you! Armed with this insight, the Tao master doesn’t allow an external event to be a disturbance. Lao-tzu tells you that assigning blame for your lack of calmness will never bring you to the state of being that you’re striving to attain. Self-mastery only blossoms when you practice being aware of, and responsible for, what you’re feeling.

This particular part of the Tao Te Ching is one that you’ll probably want to immerse yourself in repeatedly. After all, what could be better than the freedom of going through life without feeling that people and circumstances control you without your permission? Are you depressed? Irritated? Frustrated? Exhilarated? Ecstatically in love? Whatever your current state, if you believe that a changing economic picture or a tapestry of events taking place around you is responsible—and you then use these external factors to explain your inner state of mind—you’ve lost touch with your root. Why? Because you’re allowing yourself to be “blown to and fro” by the shifting winds of circumstance.

The solution for a life of unrest is choosing stillness. The quiet of the Tao is oblivious to any turmoil in the world of the 10,000 things. Be like the Tao, advises Lao-tzu: “The still is the master of unrest.” You have a choice in every moment, so you can decide to be a host to God and carry around with you the calmness that is the Tao, or you can be a hostage to your ego, which insists that you can’t really help feeling disorderly when you’re in circumstances that resemble pandemonium.

Here’s what Lao-tzu offers to you in this profoundly simple passage, from the profoundly simple life he chose 2,500 years before yours:

Vow to seek a calm inner response to the circumstances of your life.

In the midst of any kind of unrest—be it an argument, a traffic jam, a monetary crisis, or anything at all—make the immediate decision that you will find the calm center of yourself. By not thinking of what is taking place, and instead taking a few deep breaths in which you opt to empty your mind of judgments, it becomes impossible to mentally “flit about like a fool.” You have the innate ability to choose calmness in the face of situations that drive others to madness. Your willingness to do so, especially when chaos and anger have been your previous choices, puts you in touch with “the master of unrest.” There was a time when I thought this was impossible. Now I know that even in the most troublesome of times, my reaction is to choose stillness . . . the way of the Tao.

Don’t lose touch with your root.

With a written declaration or picture placed strategically in your home and workplace, remind yourself that no one can make you 26th Verse lose touch with your root without your consent. Affirm the following often: I have the ability to stay poised and centered, regardless of what goes before me. Then vow to put this new way of being into practice the next time a situation of unrest crops up. Do the mental work in advance and you’ll achieve the self-mastery that Lao-tzu refers to in this verse. More significantly, you’ll be in harmony with the Tao, which is your ultimate calling.

Verse 26

Dale translation

Inner strength is the master

of all frivolities.

Tranquility is the master

of all agitated emotions.

Those who succumb to frivolities

have lost their inner strength

Those who succumb to agitated emotions

have lost their tranquility.

The wise cultivate

inner strength and tranquility.

That is why they are not seduced

by addictive temptations.

Verse 26

Dyer Translation

The heavy is the root of the light.

The still is the master of unrest.

Realizing this,

the successful person is

poised and centered

in the midst of all activities;

although surrounded by opulence,

he is not swayed.

Why should the lord of the country

flit about like a fool?

If you let yourself be blown to and fro,

you lose touch with your root.

Verse 26

Mitchell Translation

The heavy is the root of the light

The unmoved is the source of all movement

Thus the master travels all day

without leaving home

However splendid the view

she stays serenely in herself.

Why should the lord of the country

flit about like a fool?

If you let yourself be blown to and fro,

you lose touch with your root.

If you let restlessness move you,

you lose touch with who you are.

Verse 26

Wilson Translation

The heavy fabricates the root of the light

The tranquil fabricates command of the flurried.

Therefore the sage puts one foot

in front of the other the entire day

But never leaves his heavy pack behind.

Though there may be glorious sights at hand,

His course remains high and detached,

as smooth as the flight of a swallow.

How will a lord of ten thousand chariots fool

with his empire as though

he himself has nothing to lose?

Act lightly and you lose your rootedness.

Act in a flurried way and you lose your command.

Verse 26

Walker Translation

Heaviness is the root of lightness

Tranquility is the master of agitation.

That is why the sage travels all day

without ever losing sight of her baggage

She may live in a glorious palace, but

she isn't attached to its pleasures.

Why should the lord of ten thousand chariots

behave lightly in the world?

One who acts lightly loses her foundation.

One who becomes agitated sacrifices her mastery.

Verse 26

Kwak, Palmer, Ramsay Translation

What holds, what you can trust

Is the same as this quietness—

and it is lighthearted.

This quiet light-hearted silence

Is the key to being free from emotion

The sage never abandons the Tao,

he never lets its weight out of sight.

He may live in a fabulous house

But he never gets caught up wanting to—

And through there are always temptations,

He stays unswayed, and smiles.

So why is it that our rulers

Seem so bright, but are

Glib and unsubstantial?

Losing the weight of the Tao

Means you lose your root;

And when you can't sit still

you lose

The source.

WHO IS MIKE VITALE

I am a storyteller, singer, songwriter, music producer, traveling musician, Jungian dream analyst, all-around curious fellow (Spiritual, Mathematical Historical, Scientific), Taoist, and much much more, based out of Los Angeles, California. I’m constantly releasing new music, in all sorts of different genres. You can listen to me below, on Spotify:

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An Open Letter to Myself (Fifteen Years Later)

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Side-note:

I found this on my hard drive this morning. I probably wrote this fifteen years ago? Sure. 

I know I was living in Anaheim Hills at the time. I wish I could tell you why I'm posting it—again. Perhaps because it's a time capsule, retrieved from its nearly two decade long slumber to remind myself how much of an idiot I am, even if I am making myself giggle uncontrollably as I write things— like this. I was having the time of my life. I assure you.

Side-note, with a side of note:

I was innocently (innocently) looking up briefs underwear—and I found these this morning [pictured above]. What is that? They come in multiple colors. Here is a purchase link. I am just the messenger:

https://www.amazon.com.au/ZONBAILON-Breathable-Spandex-Tagless-Running/dp/B09ZL1TGPD?th=1 

Dear Mike,

I want to be a bit more upfront with you about the way I’ve felt lately—and I know that you feel the same way I do considering how close we are, both figuratively and physically. I need you to know that the decisions you make have a profound effect on my happiness and general comfort level… and I must say, your decisions as of late, have inevitably led to a great deal of discomfort and unhappiness on my part: hence this letter (don’t bother trying to understand the logistics—yes, I’m left-handed).

You see, it all started with your latest purchase: a pair of briefs—underwear, at the local designer clothing store. For years now, you have done right by me, taking great care in purchasing what I prefer: boxer briefs. Generally, and in my humble opinion, I think you look far more attractive in them; they are loose and casual, comfortable and dynamic in their flow and adhesiveness—I feel quite at home in them.

Now, I am all about self-exploration. I mean, come on! We’ve had our fair share of creative shenanigans together. You remember that time with the rubber bands?

I certainly want you to try new things, or in this particular case, re-retry new old things that you used to do 20 to 25 years ago when you didn’t have a choice (Christmas was always socks and Fruit of the Loom briefs from mom and dad—hi mom and dad), but I digress.

Look, I was fine when you came home with the first pair of brand new designer briefs from the store a week or two ago, but then, as if to add insult to injury, just a few days ago, YOU. BOUGHT. TWO. MORE. PAIR! What on Earth were you thinking? I feel dizzy and sweaty just thinking about it. It’s like I’m stuck with this decision in much the same manner as I am your leg and I don’t like it!

It’s like my creativity and general comfort level suffocates, as the borders of your briefs draw closer and closer to me with every wash and dry cycle—those 100% cotton abominations of nature! YOU! You should be ashamed. That wedgie you are feeling right now up your fault line is no fault of mine and you know it. Think of the cocoa brown stains that could happen if you weren’t thorough! What would a lady friend think of that? Answer me!

[deep breath] I’m sorry…

I need to know: is it something I did or said? Look, I love you, and I want you to be happy. Talk to me. We can work this out. I just want everything (specifically, underwear) to be more like how they used to be—when the things between us were young, new, fresh, more boxer-brief like, and consensual.

Sincerely,

Your Testicles

Verse 25 | Tao Te Ching | Naming the Nameless

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I've been told that this is one of the most widely known and popular verses from the Tao Te Ching. It is no exaggeration to say that it has me tearing up a bit reading it. Life is very good, when we let it be good—when we get out of our own way.

Verse 25

Dyer Translation

There was something formless and perfect

before the universe was born.

It is serene. Empty.

Solitary. Unchanging.

Infinite. Eternally present.

It is the Mother of the universe.

For lack of a better name,

I call it the Tao.

I call it great.

Great is boundless;

boundless is eternally flowing;

ever flowing, it is constantly returning.

Therefore, the Way is great,

heaven is great,

earth is great,

people are great.

Thus, to know humanity,

understand earth.

To know earth,

understand heaven.

To know heaven,

understand the Way.

To know the Way,

understand the great within yourself.

Verse 25

Kwok, Palmer, Ramsay Translation

Before the world was

And the sky was filled with stars...

There was a strange, unfathomable Body.

This Being, this Body is silent

and beyond all substance and sensing.

It stretches beyond everything

spanning the empyrean.

It has always been here, and it always will be.

Everything comes from it, and then

it is the Mother of Everything.

I do not know its name. So I call it TAO

I am loath to call it greater than everything',

but it is.

And being greater, it infuses all things

moving far out and returning to the Source.

Tao is great.

Tao, the Great!

It is greater than Heaven,

Greater than the Earth —

Greater than the king.

These are the four great things,

and the ruler is the least of them.

Humanity is schooled by Earth;

Earth is taught by Heaven,

And Heaven is guided by the Tao.

And the Tao

goes with what is absolutely natural.

Verse 25

Dale Translation

What preceded life? The earth.

What preceded the earth? The universe.

What preceded the universe?

The soundless and shapeless, origin of origins,

ever transforming and having no beginning nor end.

This mother off the universe is boundless, and nameless.

But if we wanted to share with you anything

about this remarkable non-executing executor,

we must invent a name for it.

We will call it the  Tao because Tao means great.

Incredibly great because it occupies infinite space,

being fully present in the whole universe, and in

every infinitesimal particle.

Because this Great Integrity created the universe,

and the universe created the earth,

and the earth created us, we are all incredibly great.

Life derives from the nature of the earth.

The earth derives from the nature of the universe.

The  universe derives from the nature of the great integrity.

And the great integrity is the omnipresent, omnigenous omniform,

the universal material and spiritual substance

and the holoversal interlinkage and coition of existence.

Dyer's thoughts on this verse:

Many of the scholars who have written about the Tao Te Ching over the centuries consider this 25th verse to be one of the most significant lessons in the entire manuscript. In my research, all the translations of this passage actually include the word great to describe it.

This verse tells the story that even before the beginning there existed “something formless and perfect.” It goes on to say that this formless perfection is the “Mother of the universe.” Even though it’s nameless, it’s called the “Tao,” and it’s synonymous with what is great. That is, there’s nothing within the Tao that is the opposite of great—there’s nothing that’s puny, insignificant, weak, unimportant, or even average.

The story appears to want the reader to realize there’s a pure, timeless energy that’s within everything on the planet and that remains uncontaminated by the solid appearance of form. The conclusion is a directive to the student, who is you, the reader. To know this formless perfection, you must “understand the great within yourself.” You’re the central character in this wonderful saga!

Since you’re animated by the eternal Tao, this tale’s message of greatness invites you to change the way you live and to see the life you’re living change. You can begin to do so by examining thoughts and ideas that are inconsistent with this phenomenal observation made by Lao-tzu, which has been echoed by others throughout history. In her book The Journey, which was published in 1954, Lillian Smith describes it like this:

The need that one feels every day of one’s life, even though one does not acknowledge it. To be related to something bigger than one’s self, something more alive than one’s self, something older and something not yet born, that will endure through time.

That enduring “something” confirms your greatness, your absolute connection to the infinite. There’s a sense of being permanently aligned with a sort of senior partner that is greatness itself.

Lao-tzu advises you to notice the planet, its people, and the heavens and see greatness. Next, look at yourself and see that you’re a component of them all. That is, befriend what appears to be the great mystery of creation by discovering the greatness within you, then bask in the joy of noting the greatness you share with heaven, Earth, and all of its people. By persistently hanging on to your own “greatness heritage,” you ensure that the always-present Tao is consciously available. From a perspective of greatness, only greatness can emerge from you; from an inner perspective of inferiority, you only attract events that align with those beliefs.

Your greatness won’t be found in a classroom; an apprenticeship; a teacher; or flattering comments from well-meaning family members, friends, or lovers. It is within you. It’s crucial for you to become conscious of the greatness that constantly flows through you—to do so, meet it in meditative moments of gratitude, and cease to be influenced by contrary points of view.

In particular, watch and listen for the critical comments that originate from your own inner dialogue. When such thoughts emerge in your mind, let them tell you what they want. If you allow those not-so-great notions to speak, you’ll always discover that what they really want is to feel good. Give them the time they need to trust that there’s no payoff for their existence, and they will happily merge into the greatness within you. Accessing this quality allows you to participate in the greater whole, where the power of the Tao flows unimpeded by fearful self-judgment. Change the way you live by tapping into this greatness, and the life you’re living will literally change.

Following are the thoughts that Lao-tzu would have you adopt as he wrote out this verse of the Tao Te Ching some 25 centuries ago:

Trust in your own greatness.

You are not this body you occupy, which is temporary and on its way back to the nowhere from which it came. You are pure greatness . . . precisely the very same greatness that creates all of life. Keep this thought uppermost in your mind and you’ll attract to yourself these same powers of creation: The right people will appear. The exact events that you desire will transpire. The financing will show up. That’s because greatness attracts more of its own self to itself, just as thoughts of inadequacy act upon a belief that ensures that deficiency will become your reality. Affirm the following to yourself over and over until it becomes your automatic inner response to the world: I come from greatness. I attract greatness. I am greatness.

Look for beliefs that contradict your status as a being of greatness.

Catch yourself in the midst of any utterance that reflects your belief that you’re average. Silently speak warmly to that belief and ask it what it wants. It may think it has to protect you from disappointment or pain, as it probably did earlier in your existence. But with continued accepting attention, the feeling will always eventually admit that it wants to feel great. So let it! You’re good enough to withstand the passing disappointments and pain that afflict life on this planet—but trying to protect yourself by believing that you don’t embody greatness is overkill.

Look for these misbeliefs and give them the chance to transform to what they (and you) really want. Whatever you desire to become or to attract to yourself, make the internal shift from It probably won’t happen for me to It is on its way! Then begin the process of looking for even minute evidence that what you desire is indeed on its way. It’s crucial to keep this ancient axiom in mind: I get what I think about, whether I want it or not. So think about how fortunate you are to have greatness located within yourself. Now you can live the ultimate paradox: You can be greatness and be nobody, simultaneously.

WHO IS MIKE VITALE?

I am a storyteller, singer, songwriter, music producer, traveling musician, Jungian dream analyst, all-around curious fellow (Spiritual, Mathematical Historical, Scientific), Taoist, and much much more, based out of Los Angeles, California. I’m constantly releasing new music, in all sorts of different genres. You can listen to me below, on Spotify:

SOCIAL LINKS

UPCOMING SHOWS

Verse 24 | Tao Te Ching | Excess and The Ego

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I have been lost.

I have also been found.

I have asked myself on occasion: what is my ego?

While I may not have a clear answer on this question—it would appear that this analogy seems to do a better job of displaying my feelings on the idea of an ego. Excess Ego.

I imagine a teeter totter.

On one side there is pride and ego—and on the other side, there is selflessness and charity.

Perhaps the ego protects us to some small degree—our fortitude—our resolve... it is a boundary that we occasionally draw in the sand to protect us from being taken advantage of by others. If it were to have a purpose... perhaps that is what it is there for.

Additionally, perhaps we find a firm foundation in the balancing of this teeter-totter.

What I can say, is that my ego, my vanity, my self-worth... it can make me ugly.

There is a line in a song that I admire; I feel it displays this notion beautifully.

"Vanity is a tiger that you raise from a cub, that'll one day, split your face."

Wild. No matter the amount of effort to tame or domesticate—it is still wild.



Verse 24 | Tao Te Ching | Avoiding Voids

Dale Translation

Standing on tiptoe will only make you tipsy,

Walking with long strides will not allow a long walk

Shining the light of yourself will never enlighten you

Being self-righteous precludes you from being right

Boasting about yourself will never boost your eminence

Parading yourself parodies leadership


Tao Consciousness avoids

the cultivation of all these ego-bloated voids


Verse 24 |Tao Te Ching

Mitchell Translation


He who stands on tiptoe

doesn't stand firm

He who rushes ahead

doesn't go far

He who tries to shine

dims his own light

He who defines himself

can't know who he really is

He who has power over others

can't empower himself

He who clings to his work

will create nothing that endures


If you want to accord with the Tao

just do your job, and then let go.


Verse 24 |Tao Te Ching

Ames and Hall Translation


Blowhards have no standing

The self-promoting are not distinguished

Show-offs do not shine

Braggarts have nothing to show

The self-important are here and gone


As these attitudes pertain to way-making (Dao)

They are called indulgences and unseemliness

Such excess is so generally despised

That even those who want things

Cannot abide it.


Verse 24 |Tao Te Ching

Dyer Translation

If you stand on tiptoe, you cannot stand firmly.

If you take long steps, you cannot walk far.


Showing off does not reveal enlightenment.

Boasting will not produce accomplishment.

He who is self-righteous is not respected.

He who brags will not endure.


All these ways of acting are odious, distasteful.

They are superfluous excesses.

They are like a pain in the stomach,

a tumor in the body.


When walking the path of the Tao,

this is the very stuff that must be

uprooted, thrown out, and left behind.


Verse 24 |Tao Te Ching

Walker Translation

A man who tiptoes can't stand

A man who straddles can't walk

A man who shows off can't shine


A man who justifies his actions isn't respected

A man who boasts of his achievements has no merit

A man who brags will not endure


To a person of Tao, these things are

excess food and superfluous behavior

Because nothing good can come of them

he doesn't indulge in them


Verse 24 |Tao Te Ching

Scott Translation

If you are up on tiptoes, you will not stand with confidence

If you move along straddling a road, you will be unable to put one foot in front of the other

If you make yourself seen, you will not be illustrious

If you consider yourself right, you will not be taken as a model

If you denigrate others, you will get no credit

If you consider yourself the grip of a spear, you will never become a staff of support


Those who abide in the way

call such things

"leftover food" or "warts of your behavior"

Thus, those who possess the way will be found elsewhere


Wayne Dyer, in his book, "Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life" offers these thoughts on Verse 24.

Living Without Excess

In this verse, Lao-tzu advises that the path of the Tao needs to be cleared of any weeds of excessive personal importance. After all, accomplishments derive from the all-creating Source that Lao-tzu calls “the Tao.” Everything that you see, touch, or own is a gift from the Tao; thus, it is your duty to suspend your ego and seek an attitude of gratitude and generosity for the Tao’s creativity. In this way, you walk the path of the Tao by becoming like it is, which is always existing in a state of unlimited giving. It is to this state that the 24th verse of the Tao Te Ching urges you to return.

Notice how the natural flow of the Tao operates: It asks nothing of you as it provides you and everyone else with unlimited supplies of food, air, water, sunshine, land, and beauty. It is always creating for the benefit of all, and it has no need for prideful boasting or demanding something in return.

This poem by Hafiz bears repeating here to illustrate this point:

Even

After

All this time

The sun never says to the earth,


“You owe

Me.”

Look

What happens

With a love like that,

It lights the

Whole

Sky.

The sun symbolizes the Tao at work: It offers its warmth, light, and life-giving energy to all, illuminating the globe without any demand for recognition. Imagine if the sun needed attention and demanded accolades for its efforts—it would shine only where it felt most appreciated or when it received payment for that life-giving energy! Soon the world would be partially shut off from the sun’s magnificence, and ultimately the entire planet would be covered in darkness as wars erupted over ways of appeasing the “sun god.” It’s easy to see why Lao-tzu refers to such inclinations to be boastful and self-righteous as “odious” and akin to “a tumor in the body.”

Walk the path of the Tao by being a giver rather than a taker, providing for others and asking nothing in return. Then view your desires to brag and seek approval as weeds appearing on your journey. Seeing yourself as important and special because of your artistic talent, for instance, is walking the path of ego. Walking the path of the Tao means that you express appreciation for the hands that allow you to create a sculpture.

This is how Lao-tzu advises you to walk the path of the Tao, free of your ego-driven desires to be recognized for all of your efforts and accomplishments:

Change your life by consciously choosing to be in a state of gratitude.

The journey of your life will change when you emphasize gratitude for all that you are, all that you accomplish, and all that you receive. Practice silently repeating I thank You throughout your waking hours, and as you fall asleep and awaken. It really doesn’t matter whether you’re thanking God, Spirit, Allah, the Tao, Krishna, Buddha, the Source, or self, because all those names represent the great wisdom traditions. Give thanks for the sunshine, the rain, and your body, including all of its components. Have a brain-, heart-, liver, and even a toenail-appreciation day! Your practice of gratitude helps 24th Verse you focus on the real Source of everything, as well as notice when you’re letting ego dominate. Make this a silent daily practice: Give thanks for the bed, the sheets, the pillows, and the room you sleep in at night; and in the morning, say I thank You for what lies ahead. Then begin the beautiful day doing something kind for another human being someplace on the planet.

Change your life by examining your urge to boast and be self-righteous.

When you’re about to brag to others about your credentials or accomplishments, momentarily sense the urge and recall Lao-tzu’s advice that “this is the very stuff that must be uprooted, thrown out, and left behind.” On the Tao path, inner approval is healthy and pure, while self-righteous boasting is simply superfluous. When you notice your gloating habit, you can choose to get back on the Tao path by remembering this 24th verse of the Tao Te Ching. Pomposity and self-inflating comments can then be seen as weeds you really have no need for. By returning to radical humility and seeing the greatness within everyone, you’ve then cleared your life of excessive self-importance . . . and this is the way of the Tao.

WHO IS MIKE VITALE?

I am a storyteller, singer, songwriter, music producer, traveling musician, Jungian dream analyst, all-around curious fellow (Spiritual, Mathematical Historical, Scientific), Taoist, and much much more, based out of Los Angeles, California. I’m constantly releasing new music, in all sorts of different genres. You can listen to me below, on Spotify:

SOCIAL LINKS

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Verse 23 | Tao Te Ching | Sincerity

in

Dale Translation

Speak few words, but say them with quietude and sincerity,

and they will be long-lasting,

for a raging wind cannot blow all morning,

nor a sudden rainstorm last throughout the day.


Why is this so?

Because it is the nature of the sky and the earth to be frugal.

Even human beings can not alter this nature

without suffering the consequences.


When we sincerely follow the ethical path,

we become one with it.

When we become one with the ethical path, it embraces us.


When we completely lose our way, we become one with loss.

When we become one with loss, loss embraces us.


When we sincerely follow the great integrity, we become one with it.

When are one with the great integrity, it embraces us.


But when nothing is done sincerely,

nothing and on-one embraces us.


Walker Translation

Nature is sparing with speech

a whirlwind doesn't last all morning

a rain shower doesn't last all day


What causes these? Heaven and earth.

If heaven and earth can't make something

furious endure, how could man?


Concentrate on Tao and you'll experience Tao.

Concentrate on power, and you'll experience power.

Concentrate on loss and you'll experience loss.


If you won't trust, you won't be trusted.


Mitchell Translation

Express yourself completely,

then keep quiet.

Be like the forces of nature:

when it blows, there is only wind;

when it rains, there is only rain;

when the clouds pass, the sun shines through.


If you open yourself to the Tao,

you are one with the Tao

and you can embody it completely.

If you open yourself to insight,

you are at one with insight

and you can use it completely.

If you open yourself to loss,

you are at one with loss

and you can accept it completely.


Open yourself to the Tao,

then trust your natural response;

and everything will fall into place.


Dyer Translation

To talk little is natural:

Fierce winds do not blow all morning;

a downpour of rain does not last the day.

Who does this? Heaven and earth.


But these are exaggerated, forced effects,

and that is why they cannot be sustained.

If heaven and earth cannot sustain a forced action,

how much less is man able to do?


Those who follow the Way

become one with the Way.

Those who follow goodness

become one with goodness.

Those who stray from the Way and goodness

become one with failure.


If you conform to the Way,

its power flows through you.

Your actions become those of nature,

your ways those of heaven.


Open yourself to the Tao

and trust your natural responses . . .

then everything will fall into place.

WHO IS MIKE VITALE?

I am a storyteller, singer, songwriter, music producer, traveling musician, Jungian dream analyst, all-around curious fellow (Spiritual, Mathematical Historical, Scientific), Taoist, and much much more, based out of Los Angeles, California. I’m constantly releasing new music, in all sorts of different genres. You can listen to me below, on Spotify:

SOCIAL LINKS

UPCOMING SHOWS

Imago

in

It is a very old word—with several meanings. 

In Biology, Imago is used to describe the very last stage of an insect's life cycle. It is the stage of maturity. The last phase of its ultimate development and its final metamorphosis: the imaginal phase.

In psychology, it is used to describe,

n. an unconscious mental image of another person, that influences the way in which an individual relates to others. 

Have you ever thought about that?

We create mental images of people... and despite our best efforts, we might never be operating from a place of fully formed knowledge on a person, especially when we start casting judgment.

It is a term that can be used to make differentiation between what we might perceive verses the objective reality of an individual. It is extremely subjective—personal to each of us—and is very much filtered through our unique experiences and history, growing as a human being and as an individual.

If we are to make a distinction between actuality and the way we perceive it, an image or representation of a person is the best we can do.

Perception.

Perhaps our growth, our maturity, our metaphorical metamorphosis in which we emerge from our chrysalis, lightly brushing our wings, preparing to take flight, begins with the notion that we are all completely clueless, and that we know nothing, especially in so far as it pertains to someone else.

There is plenty of inner space to explore—a lifetimes worth, and perhaps through that exploration of oneself, we may better communicate with those around us.

UPCOMING SHOWS

What are Dreams?

in ,

My actual dreams. Yes, I have aspirations—and I am doing my very best to will those into existence: from thought to actuality. But I also dream, and I remember these dreams that I have at night while I sleep. I don’t always remember them, but I do quite often, especially when sleeping flat on my back, with my spine aligned.

I’ve been keeping a dream journal. I started journaling entries of my dream content sometime before the pandemic—it was around the time that I moved to Los Angeles. I think it has been one of the most profound experiences of my life trying to derive meaning from them.

I started reading a lot of Carl Gustav Jung last year, and with a bit of guidance in terms of his theories on how to interpret my own dreams, it has been incredible what I have found. Profound. It is changing my life as well as my outlook on it. I’d love to share some of these dreams with you at some point, in a one on one conversation. I have always enjoyed personal conversations with people. Perhaps I will have the privilege of getting to know you under those circumstances one of these days. In equal measure though, I am so busy with all my aspirations (ironically), that talking about my dreams one on one with a person is a rare privilege for me (should the individual have interest in such subjects) so forgive me if that never happens.

I have turned some of these dreams into art pieces. They become songs or even short works of writing that I share on my Patreon page and on my website. Here is an example of one.

As a beautiful article in Time Magazine pointed out, “Modern psychologists and neurologists, armed with imaging equipment including PET scans and MRIs, have taken things to a deeper and more technical level, speculating that dreaming is the brain’s way of dumping excess data, consolidating important information, keeping us alert to danger and more.”

This may also be true. Stranger yet still: all of these notions could be true.

Regardless of your current outlook on dreams: a vast majority of the population have the exact same type of dreams: flying, teeth falling out, being back in school taking an exam, driving a car, being chased by animals, being naked in a public space in front of people, not wearing pants, and so forth.

I find Jung’s theory for this correlation, to be the most interesting of the lot. He speculates that the portions of the brain responsible for dreaming predate written language and deals and communicates in symbols. A portion of our cerebral cortex, called Wernicke's area and Broca’s area (slightly behind and in front of the ears, approximately), is responsible for language: the use of language and the comprehension of it. The cerebral cortex, from which these two regions are a part of, are the most recent evolutionary addition to our brain structure.

Jung’s theory continues that the older portions of the brain, such as the cerebral cortex, the hippocampus, the limbic system, the amygdala, and so forth, provide us with a symbolic and emotional compensatory monologue—a monologue without words: symbols and metaphors using memories and the rich construct of human experience that we all contain in an area called the collective unconscious. Think of the collective unconscious as something akin to—instinct—yet different and unique. It is a collection, a pool of symbols and meaning and archetypes throughout our continued development as a species.

However, his largest contribution was the idea of compensation—that our dreams are often (but not always) compensatory to our conscious waking life. He illustrates this notion, often, in many of his essays, using experiences with his clients. For the sake of brevity, I will use one such experience that can be found in this article: (https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4217604/)

“Jung was seeing a patient, who was a highly intelligent woman. Jung’s analysis with her dream went well at first, but after a while he got stuck with the interpretation and noticed a shallowness in the dialogue with the analysand. Jung decided to communicate this to the patient. He then had a dream the night before he was to meet with her again. The dream is as follows:

I was walking down a highway through a valley in late-afternoon sunlight. To my right was a steep hill. At its top stood a castle, and on the highest tower there was a woman sitting on a kind of balustrade. In order to see her properly, I had to bend my head far back. I awoke with a crick in the back of my neck. Even in the dream I had recognized the woman as my patient.

The interpretation of the dream was immediate and crystal clear to Jung: if in the dream he had to look up at the woman, his analysand, then in waking life Jung had probably been looking down on her both intellectually and morally, as according to Jung, ‘“dreams are, after all, compensations for the conscious attitude”’. Jung shared his dream and interpretation of it with the patient and it produced an immediate positive change in the effect of her treatment thereafter.”

It is a deeply fascinating rabbit hole of curiosities. However, please, “you don’t have to take my word for it,” as Lavar Burton would say.

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Chili in Fort Mill

in , ,

Fort Mill, South Carolina (while on my walk)

If there are reasonable amounts of chili to be consumed, I know nothing on the subject. It only occurred to me after 10pm rolled around and I felt a bit drowsy. I had worked up quite the appetite on my five hour drive between Woodstock, Georgia and Fort Mill, South Carolina, which is nestled slightly below the community of Charlotte, North Carolina—right along the border of the two states: this is where my aunt hangs her hat. My aunt Ruth. It’s around 8am at the moment, the next day. She has a lovely home and I’m thankful for her being kind enough to allow me a place to sleep, for the good company, and naturally, the enormous bowl of chili that greeted me, nearly the moment I arrived. I have been fairly religious about maintaining a ketogenic diet while on this tour—however—exceptions have been made in some sort of slightly freckled fashion on my clean bill of health in that dietary department, if one were to subscribe to such beliefs. The diet seems to work for me, however, I also enjoy chili, cowboy toast, and a few slices of pie from time to time.

There was probably a 17 year stretch where the two of us did not see each other, because she moved to the east coast, along with my younger cousin Ryan. On my first United States tour last year, they both came out to see me perform while I played in one of the bedroom communities surrounding Charlotte. I drove to North Carolina on two separate occasions last year. Once this year. Three times of visiting is a gift.

My house concert in Woodstock, Georgia. Thank you brother John for having me.

It feels of fall here. It’s around 47 degrees outside at the moment. I have spent the better portion of the past several weeks in the lower south, where it still feels of summer water amusement parks, shorts, flip-flops, tank tops, koozies, BBQ, and the like. There were a few occasions of folding lawn chairs to enjoy an outdoor concert, or to dip one’s feet in the warm water of Gulf Coast. My bare feet now, are cold, as I write this. I am thinking about hunting for my socks in a moment, while I ruminate on the next several words to put in front of the other. The cold is not uninvited, unwarranted, or unwelcome to me. I can recall purchasing a jacket, mere weeks ago, while in Austin, Texas, waiting for any opportunity to wrap it around myself, should that opportunity had ever arisen in the first place; Austin had other plans, none of which involving jackets.

Apache Junction, Austin, Houston, Mobile, Panama City, the pan-handle, Leesburg, Dunedin, St. Petersburg: Fall almost seems to be a rumor in such places—maybe even a lie told to those with cold cold hearts. I have been reading about it in books—well, for the sake of accuracy—listening to it from narrated books. It has been a lot of driving, and a lot of listening.

Because no great story ever started with someone eating a salad.

I just devoured what could be one of my new favorite books of all time: “The Passenger” by Cormac McCarthy. This has revitalized my interest in his cornucopia of literature I have yet to read. So, after the two day consumption of this new book of his (it was recently released on October 25th 2022), I went back to the year 1992, and started to read his classic “All the Pretty Horses.” There is much talk of Fall, Winter, snow, and the many traits that are cold weather in there—so I know it exists; well, from his literature—and my cold feet. More importantly: Cormac McCarthy is a national treasure. Someone give the man a Nobel Prize. He deserves a monkey trophy. His writing is beautiful. His story telling is exquisite. His conversations are organic and deep and unbelievable, yet within the realm of possibility. I can’t stop thinking about what he writes, for days on end after consumption.

I have decided to take a long stroll around the neighborhood—if just to walk off the copious amounts of chili and pie—and, perhaps to garner a remedy for cold feet. Excuse me for a moment.

This wouldn’t have been an issue yesterday in Woodstock, Georgia. However, there is news of a hurricane in Florida; yet another, above and beyond that of which was previous and has since disappeared with a wake of destruction: Ian was its name, if memory serves me correctly.

No, this yet still, a new hurricane, the one that is brewing over the entirety of Florida at the moment, is a Category 1. It has a name from what I understand, as well: Nicole. I hope Nicole is a lady of easy demur, and that she smiles with only light tears over the coastline. Her breathiness could be to a minimum, however, reports are suggesting otherwise. No matter: I cross my fingers for those who are in its headlights as it drives up the interstate, along with myself. There is no doubt that the cold storm I am feeling on my feet, are a result of Nicole’s currents. May the weather buy a vowel using Wheel of Fortune rules, and give us all the sweet currant of fruitfulness, rather than the rags of battered sails, as we both traverse together.

Some of my extended family in Mobile, Alabama

And yet, only the day before my arrival in Woodstock, Georgia, I found myself in Mobile, Alabama—along the Gulf Coast. I could have sworn that it was swimming weather, sure as it was, also a day for Church for the residents of the area. Even the Flora-bama had a service, flanked as it may be, by the endless shelves of alcohol, to be dispersed shortly after service had concluded (maybe even during for all I know). Speaking of church services held in a bar, and subjects that straddle the line of propriety. The Flora-bama: it straddles the line of the Florida and Alabama border, right along a coastline, freckled with high-rise resorts and the whitest of fine demolished sand one will ever have the privilege to crawl between their toes while walking the beaches of a red neck riviera. I found residents apologizing to me about a place I had yet to visit, and others continued such a trend, well after I had visited the place. I rather liked the joint. There where multiple stages for music, and quite the well-spring of libations to socially lubricate even the most rusted jointed gates of good times to be had. The remnants of feminine approval to musicians world wide, hanging from clothes lines above one of the audience congregations adjacent the stage: enough bras and varieties of which to fill a department store inventory.

Me at the Flora-bama on the Florida/Alabama border.

There was a 1.9 billion dollar jackpot for Lotto, and line of folks standing in line to buy tickets at the Florida/Alabama border. Alcohol and Lotto, given equal billing on the sign outside of the establishment. A line of Alabama residents, buying tickets, as the Lotto is not a legal privilege in their state. Loop holes. Good on them.

It was a jackpot, having the opportunity to play for my friends and family in Mobile, the night before. Playing music I wrote, for cousins I didn’t know that I had, save for the past several years. My cousin Mia, is a musician herself and is very supportive of all my musical whimsies and storytelling tendencies. I love my family dearly, and between you and I: my family is not as close as we used to be. I wish it were not the case. I have tried to make it not the case, through choice phone calls to an aunt, voicing my concerns that we are not getting any younger, and are only becoming more comfortable in our own bubbles of social interaction. This rings true of not only my immediate family, but also of my extended family, much to my chagrin.

The Frog Pond. A house concert venue outside of Mobile, AL.

Were I man of more means, perhaps I could invite them all over to my place for dinner. I am hesitant to think that they would make the trek to Los Angeles, albeit being 4 hours away from my home town of Visalia. My younger brother and I both live here in southern California. My mom refused to make the journey to visit for Thanksgiving. I spoke to her yesterday, and she is open to being picked up by my brother and driven to southern California to stay with him for a week, before the Christmas holiday, something that excites me a great deal (she hasn’t been here to visit me since I moved to southern California to go to college in 2002, and when I graduated from college).

Perhaps the key to this discussion between family, is to truly try to understand the schism between all of us—or that we were never really that close to begin with… I am uncertain. I do know that the cost of being close, is our time and our energy. While I may not be very rich, I do have time and energy to provide to anything that fills my heart with joy.

I am not here to complain either, or to point fingers. I take responsibility for myself, and also wish to make as much effort as possible towards accomplishing whatever I can. I am not afraid to work hard. I am not fearful of being the first to reach out. I do that often, whether it is in friendship or insofar as family is concerned. It does get a little tiresome feeling like no one meets me halfway, but I suppose that is relative—if not also my responsibility to recognize when I am overexerting effort on the wrong people, or that my love is not being put in good places.

Parallel lives. It was something that someone said to me once when I apologized for not reaching out more often. He simply said: no worries my friend; parallel lives.

I can dig that also.

There are numerous ways to look at life. I do my best to choose the methods that feel good, and do not create suffering, where it is unnecessary in the first place. Believe you me: we create our own suffering.

Perhaps we should simply be thankful to be greeted by a bowl of chili and to hug our aunt and our cousin when we can. Be thankful when our mother comes to visit. Be thankful when we discover we have cousins we never knew about. Try our best to get to know our family—and be accepting of parallel lives as well.

I am not a perfect specimen. But then again, neither is anyone else around me, either.

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$1,016 to the Wind & Suddenly in Charleston

in , ,

Charleston, South Carolina

Life changes in a heartbeat. On the flip of a dime. At the whim of my next lousy and trite analogy. Point that moist finger to the sky to gauge the course of the current. It only takes a single moment for opportunities to shift—for the wind to lift contents from my own hands—one’s hat and his right-handed grip on a deposit envelope—the lending towards quick decisions.

Then there’s the loss of a nearly $800 show guarantee because my car retreated into “limp mode” on a foreign Interstate freeway in the middle of Florida. Perhaps it was a problem with the transmission? Perhaps it was the car’s computer acting in self-preservation? Who’s to say these days? Not even the Honda dealership knew for certain, and they created the thing. What they did know is that the car wouldn’t move, because they couldn’t mobilize the now over-glorified-four-wheeled art piece of plastic, metal, and glass into their workspace. I ascertained that symptom as well, while driving on Interstate 75; I was in cruise control—and when I removed my chariot of fire from cruise control, the gas pedal reprioritized itself to a device meant solely to rev an engine that was not in gear. I watched the R.P.M.’s roar across a dial as if I was a little further northeast—in Daytona. Alas, I was one hour and thirty minutes shy of my house concert in Dunedin, Florida—and I never made it there to play. A nice slow goodbye wave to currency, but more importantly, to all the people who were kind enough to be there to see me.

The Animal Kingdom at Disney World Resorts

One might realize he has no road-side assistance, although he could have sworn he did. This insurance was procured during the pandemic, so it also doesn’t surprise me that I was caught with my pants down—or that my hat was lifted suddenly away by a hurricane current. One might watch $1016 be carried off in a mighty gust of wind, flopping and dancing towards the wide and hungry mouth of massive storm drains in a Houston metropolis skyscraper complex.

I was in Houston looking for a credit union co-op ATM that takes large cash deposits. The goal was to eliminate all the worry having such large amounts of cash on my person. Ironically, it was the witches brew within a cauldron of chaos that led to the contents of a deposit envelope being thrust into the open gust of a mighty breeze funneled through the endless span of tall buildings peppered about downtown Houston. I watched in shock and horror as the countless amounts of money did tiny somersaults, or sailed like a vessel, dancing macabre in the currents of air, free from their neatly ordered and cramped deposit envelope. Scattered to the wind as the old saying goes—and I was in hot pursuit, as the contents of that envelope were nearly all that I had to my name at that very moment. While there may have been curse words I didn’t have the chance to get to, I’m fairly certain none were emitted from my vocabulary in those moments, that became an hour of hunting for money I had, and then lost.

Savannah, Georgia River Walk

That is, besides the precarious stack of belongings packed into a 2015 Honda Civic—ordered in some half-hazard manner like Tetris blocks, so that the affects of my business, a touring songwriter, may all neatly fit within the confines of such a small space.

At the moment, I imagine my car, and its contents are ten feet off the ground on a hydraulic lift in a Honda dealership, while the good people of Leesburg, Florida try to ascertain its dilemma as a now stationary and non-moving vehicle (this assertion, point-in-fact, was incorrect, I regrettably inform you, dear reader—I was hopeful as I wrote those words—now, I am simply smiling and pragmatic from a coffee shop in South Carolina).

I wrote those non-parenthetical words, pockmarked as they are, within a Microtel not far from the dealership. It’s not a fancy place. I can’t afford fancy. It does however, have Internet, A/C, power, a warm bed, and enough niceties like continental breakfasts and fresh towels, that one should never complain. I deeply and truly, try not to complain.

I, in the past, have found myself complaining. Perhaps we all do from time to time. I don’t want to be that person any longer. I try not to be that person. I fail sometimes at being that person. I also, recognize, that there is nothing wrong with complaining in some reduced capacity. We, like a steam engine, need some sort of release for the welling of emotional burden percolating and brewing in its fleshy tank—albeit, a steam engine with no destination, is just wasting its steam and its reservoir of momentum.

Savannah, Georgia River Walk

My decisions have brought me to this point. There are also, perhaps machinations within the seemingly mechanical? Or perhaps I the writer and you the reader, subscribe to freewill. Things are bound to occur and do happen. Am I the type of person who feels he can control the wills of people or the outcomes of seemingly chaotic events? That is never a possibility insofar as I can tell. This thought was echoed by a gentlemen sitting on a curb, near a minimart gas station, in Leesburg, Florida, asking for me to buy him a few Swisher Sweets to roll a blunt. We talked for quite some time.

Does my fear of the unknown cause me to feel anxiety within uncomfortable situations, or is it the compulsion to control that causes me to cry when things get hard—realizing that I have no control over the current outcome of a verdict-less existence? Maybe yes, and maybe no. Consistency in action would seem to provide answers. Truth for all of us, is also moot and plural. What I can say is that I do the best I can with what I have available to me.

Anymore, difficult situations for me are treated the same as me walking a path. I put one foot in front of the other. I am putting on my jacket, one sleeve at a time. I have countless fragments of problems that arise from one problem, so I deal with each problem, one at a time, until they are accounted for.

I try to picture myself lucky. Perhaps in a manner that is not yet completely evident to my flimsy understanding of reality, The Universe, it’s concoctions, or better yet, my own for that matter.

It is also easy to say things such as, it is God’s path for me—and perhaps that is true as well? However, I move under my own will—just as the wind does, if not with my own unique purpose. Who is to say precisely that wind moves with what particular purpose? No sooner do I say that, than someone reading this mouths the words of what that purpose might be.

We don’t see the wind. We see it act itself out in the nature of that it pushes about: $1016 for example. I watched it sail and scatter and disperse itself into an economy of pavement, sidewalk, grass, flower gardens, parked cars, and moving traffic. I can feel the wind. However, I can’t see it, aside from what it motivates to move.

Charleston, South Carolina

I can’t see the future either.

I can be hopeful though. I can try not to worry.

My car payment went from being $338—to $580, now, with a used vehicle that I drove off the lot of a Honda dealership. I am in South Carolina at my friend Jasmine’s place in Charleston.

I was telling her about a dream I had, shortly after this debacle:

It had to do with deodorant. I was searching for deodorant, and I found it. I swiped copious amounts of it under my armpits. I can’t remember precisely, whether I felt relief over its application to my person. However, my dear friend Josh, appeared in my dream next, telling me “You see? It’s too much.” On his hand, was a copious spread of deodorant, in a rich-red-colored hue, that he was exemplifying his statement with.

House Concert in St. Petersburg, Florida

Perhaps my unconscious mind was trying to express something to me. Maybe the car is too much? I had little choice in the matter though, and little time to work within. I was hemorrhaging money. I had already lost $800 in donations, and who knows how much in merchandise sales, from my car breaking down the night before. My hotel room that night costed $115, and the tow to Leesburg was $167. I had yet another house show to get to in St. Petersburg, Florida, two hours away from Leesburg and its Honda dealership. There was money to be made and one month of touring still ahead of me. I acted in the best capacity I could, with what little time and option I had before me.

We wear deodorant trying to cover up the natural fragrance of our person and its perspiration—perhaps because we worry as to how our body odor would come across to others. Worry is the optimal word. Perhaps I am full of worry. As I write these words, I feel calm and collected.

I don’t feel worry or anxiety at the moment. This may change later as my responsibilities, my fiscal obligations, rear their burden more closely in my face.

I have a beautiful new-to-me car. I suddenly care about its shiny nature. It being clean all the time. It’s interior.

I also care whether I am living outside my means.

Oddly enough, my friend Taylor told me, as I was purchasing the car that just took a dump on me: “The Universe doesn’t throw anything at you that you can’t handle.”

And so I put one foot in front of the other, and then another, and then another.

Janice and I in Panama City, Florida. She was kind enough to host me and have me pay her backyard the night before my car broke down.

It’s starting to get a bit chilly from the wind outside, rustling the leaves and the trees. I put on my jacket, one sleeve at a time, and continue my journey forward into the unknown.

Perhaps my dreams are like that breeze. As I sleep at night, I collect my unconscious mind’s observations. It is always there: watching and observing. Perhaps it has insight into my behavior. After all, it is me, and I am it.

But perhaps most of all, it is like the wind. You can’t see the wind without its interaction with the world around us, and likewise, we can’t see our unconscious mind, without its interaction with the world within us.

I only lost $22 to the wind, out of $1,016 being carried off by it. I found all the rest of it.

I lost my old car to who knows what, but it was replaced by yet another.

I am trying my best not to worry, and to just be. To smile. To have gratitude. To appreciate the wealth of everyone around me, both friend and stranger alike. I work to not have any strangers in my life. I fail at that sometimes as well.

I’m in Charleston, South Carolina at the moment. I am writing this now, from Jasmine’s dining room table. She’ll be moving with her husband to Ireland, shortly. This opportunity may never happen again. I stare outside, through her dining room window at the leaves on all the tall trees, moving with the breeze. Tears roll down my face as I write this.

It’s a good life, and Bob Marley was probably right.

Don’t worry about a thing… because every little thing, is gonna be alright.

FIND ME ON YOUR FAVORITE SOCIAL MEDIA

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Austin, Texas

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S. Congress in Austin, Texas

Austin. Austin City Limits. Being within Austin City limits—literally, not so much the hit musical phenomena that encompasses and personifies the great city in which I speak. It’s magic. The city is pure spectral spectacle.

I would live here. I have a feeling I will live here.

Growing up playing music, I was entranced by stories of Stevie Ray Vaughan, and his brother Jimmie. Willie Nelson. Johnny Winter.

These days, you can find murals and statues that celebrate the music of Stevie Ray Vaughan. He died young, but he made a lasting impression on his adopted home of Austin, Texas—who lifted him on their shoulders in celebration of his music and his passion for the blues.

An acquaintance of mine in Long Beach (another musician), once shit all over the name Stevie Ray Vaughan, saying that he couldn’t stand that white horse shit that passes as blues. It bummed me out hearing him rant on a guy whom he never met… nor have I for that matter—however, I carry his spirit in reverence, much as I do Eric Clapton as well, for they helped to introduce me to wide variety of African American talent that contributed to years of truly authentic American Culture and American History. Yes, they were white: but, they loved black music and carried it in the deepest reverence and respect, which showed in their craft. Furthermore, they brought black music to me, a kid in Visalia, CA, who passionately researched who Stevie Ray Vaughan’s influences were, and then listened to them, hearing all the riffs he lifted from their repertoire: Albert King for example. You can listen to Albert King and hear his inarguable influence on the playing of Stevie’s.

Then again, what does a guy in Long Beach, CA know about Austin, Texas? What do I know about Austin, Texas for that matter? Nothing. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I keep coming back. I keep returning because the place is pure imagination and sorcery on my senses.

There are more music venues here than I have ever seen in my entire life. There is talent of such a caliber, that it constantly has me questioning not only my own merit as a musician, but also my sanity in continuing to create music as a songwriter—that is until I meet said musicians after they have proceeded in tearing my face of with their talent, and politely handing my facial features back to me at the end of the night: feeling their genuine sense of connection and intolerance for being overly vain insofar as it is concerned with themselves—their curiosity of my own music, their kindness in listening to it, and in showering me with compliments.

I was connected with a local musician and guitar player in the area named Phil Hurley. He is a Los Angeles transplant as well, who has been living in Austin Texas now for around 14 years. He has lived all over the place. He has played guitar for countless people of merit and distinction, and has operated within bands and musical acts who were signed to major labels, from an early age. We became quick friends and I am astounded by his talent and generosity.

He was kind enough to make time to meet with me, and to show me around a bit, to take me to some of the coolest hangs in town such as Donn’s Depot on a Monday night. There is a weekly residency that has been happening at this old venue, constructed from the remnants of 5 old train cars, nestled politely and sheltered within the entrance of tall tall buildings and sky scrapers. Chris Gage has been playing piano and singing there on Monday nights for nearly 27 years. Phil brought me down to Donn’s Depot, and shared me with the all of the wonderful folks who are a community. They haunt that establishment every week, and listen, in deep love, of what Chris Gage provides as a musician and pianist.

As we walked around these 5 train cars, everyone greeted Phil Hurley, as he was acquainted to nearly every individual in that place. Chris Gage recorded and produced his latest record, which is available to listen to right now on all the streaming services. Phil and Chris quickly began catching up with one another on one of Chris’ breaks from playing, and Phil asked if we both could come up and play a few songs, to which Chris was beyond receptive.


I met more beautiful and wonderful people in Donn’s Depot in one night, then can possibly be expressed in words—or good intentions for that matter. There are good people here in Austin, and Donn’s Depot is just a small subset of the greater whole that is this beautiful city. Don Emmons for example. A photographer and gentleman, and scholar. Or, the videographer Jay Curlee, who was a Hawaiian transplant—him and his wife both, who have been living in Austin now for 7 years. Don Emmons came from New Jersey, if memory serves me correctly (we were having drinks—quite a few of them).

Performing with Chris Gage at Donn’s Depot in October of 2022. Photo courtesy of the winker with an eye, Don Emmons.

A place is always the people who live there. Austin is exceptionally lovely.

Truth be told: most places I have the privilege to visit in order to play music, are exquisite and lovely—because they are full of good people who let a ragamuffin such as myself, stay and play some tunes he wrote about life. They listen to my stories. I am the luckiest man alive—and my brood (artists and musicians most specifically) are thankful for the love, gratitude, kindness, and open hearts being displayed by individuals who understand that we just travel around trying to spread some love. Sure, now and then, we all get a little lost sometimes—but love is most certainly the answer to nearly every quandary asked… and gratitude is the doorway to happiness… and happiness is work. It does not come easy to us. We work for it and we work at it.

A deep and special thanks to my friend Scott Spencer. He is an Austin native. I met him through my brother from another mother, Frank Reina. Both of these gentlemen are Texas natives. Scott, has shown me more kindness and support than I could ever hope to repay to an individual in a lifetime. Nonetheless, I hope to one day. I suppose the first step in that endeavor would be success at what I am trying to achieve. I will focus on that notion with all my might—and swing back to previous when I have more to offer this world than the love in my heart, the songs that I write, and the stories I tell. In the meanwhile, may those suffice my friend.

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Come see me live on my 2022 FALL TOUR around the UNITED STATES

Santa Fe, New Mexico | Santa Fe Brewing Co. & Desert Dogs Brewery

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When in Rome—or Santa Fe, New Mexico for that matter. I had the pleasure of visiting with my friends Brenda and Dave here in Eldorado Santa Fe, New Mexico for the past several days, while playing a few shows at the local breweries Santa Fe Brewing Co. and Desert Dogs Brewery—the later of which shares the title of my newest album, being released July 11th 2023.

I met both Brenda and Dave while living in Long Beach, CA. They recently relocated here to Santa Fe, New Mexico after having visited here on several occasions. They have been making their dream home in a rural suburb of the greater Santa Fe area, nestled within the rolling hills of high desert, 7,000 feet above sea level. A future full of four seasons: sunshine, snow, the color of leaves changing—an atmosphere somewhat far removed from the daily life of those from Southern California. It’s own unique history and culture.

Red and Green Sauce, lovingly referred to as Christmas style Pozole. A spicy and delightful soup: pork, verde, hominy; a side of finely shredded cabbage, cilantro, diced red onions, and tortilla chips.. A perfect dish for cold, rainy, and dreary weather, which apparently swooped in with me, as I visited Santa Fe for my first (and hopefully not my last). Local residents assured me that the amount of rain they were experiencing currently was very much out of the ordinary, however, to me, a visitor, it felt nice and complimented my soup, my desire to wear a poncho, and my brand new hat.

Brenda and I shopped in the downtown area in which I found that perfect hat and poncho, almost immediately. It was a mission that I chose to accept, arbitrarily, as if it were necessary—and for all intensive purposes as far as I was concerned: it was.

Insofar as the gigs were concerned: bars are always hard. People are not necessarily there to see me specifically, so it’s an effort to find new ears and minds that enjoy what I do: to find new friends and to connect with them in a capacity in which we will see each other again in the future, whether that be through a mailing list or through a social networking service. This might mean that I need to warm people up with a few familiar covers, before politely asking if I might play a few of my own songs. I find that this works nicely. I also find the conversations after my set to be the most important part: this is when we have the opportunity to connect on a level that is meaningful.

I am up for the challenge and I welcome the opportunity for friendship. I am so immensely thankful for anyone who finds anything to like in my music.

I play Desert Dogs Brewery this evening from 8:30pm to 11:30pm.

Perhaps in some ways, I am a burro with a load of wood, waiting in the alley. In other ways, ways which are far more abundant: I am a free spirit, traveling where he pleases, making friends along the way, and enjoying every damn minute of it. I have been ruminating on the idea of purchasing an RV and getting rid of my apartment in Los Angeles. I am thinking about touring year round, seeing as much of the United States as possible and to play as many places as I possibly can. It sounds like a spicy proposition. It sounds like the life of a steamboat pilot, who as Mark Twain pointed out, were the freest people on the planet. I like being free. I like rowing my boat gently down the stream.

Merrily, merrily, merrily…

- Mike

PS

I met Brenda at 4th Street Vine in Long Beach, CA. She is a lovely lovely human being and I am thankful to know you. Congratulations to you and Dave on your dream home. May the blessing you desire be found in your new home. It’s a gorgeous and stunning place to live and I am so thankful to have had you open your home to me for a few days and to offer me the comforts of your place and your company in the future. My heart is full of gratitude.

Come see me live in the United States while I play out in October and November of 2022