Poem

When happiness makes its rounds
back to me again, I lean into it.
I don’t mean marginally happy.
I mean the kind of joy that stops
you in your tracks and halts
any action that was moments
ago needed, for one thing, or another.
And there you stand, sit, or lay,
looking at a blade of grass with
the sun shinning and the wind
blowing just enough to whisper
your name as you tilt your head
in an attempt to catch the message.

-M. Taggart

In case you were wondering

I look back at my childhood and pull the good from the not good. There was plenty of both. Somehow I’ve become a success in life. To me, happiness is success. But to much of society, prosperity is the measure worth looking at. I wish it wasn’t like this. Reading a book outside with the sun touching the pages while listening to Spring-time birds, all while thinking nothing other than the book and the sun and the birds, that is a measure I use to gage my happiness.

Yet, somehow, even with my bad portions of my childhood, I am a success on other levels as well. I am a father. A husband. A business owner. A college graduate. I have been elected President and owner of a new company set to explode. We are building a new building in a city which contains Maine’s second largest population. I picked the city. It’s diverse. I like diversity. My company will bring new jobs to this city. As I told the city officials, my goal is to enhance the community we enter. I will do exactly that. Our store will open later this summer.

I bring these points up because, based on only my writing, it’s possible for someone to assume that I am hobbled in a dark hole spinning around in circles. That isn’t the case. It’s simply easy for me to remember the bad and to write about the bad. Just as easily as it is for me to write about morning coffee.

When I was a teenager I wanted to be a writer who lived in Maine. At that point I lived in Massachusetts. I’ve lived in a few different states, however, I am now a writer who lives in Maine. I always wanted to be a father and husband. And while sitting in a jail cell in my early twenties, I knew I’d be a loving father and husband. My will was never broken nor in question.

My childhood trauma does not define me. I use it as motivation. And through my freedom of expression that motivation lives nearly in tangible forms. I set my goals long ago and now I’m setting new goals to will into being.

I can’t wait to see what the next ten years will bring. I am blessed. I am thankful. And please keep in mind, I may write about some awful situations, some of the darkest of places, and of thoughts no one wishes upon another- keep in mind that I am fine. More than fine. It’s important the bad is not forgotten with my abundance of good in the now. Much like the photo below. Taken a month before my father’s passing. I knew he was dying. I was on a bender, I look beat up, tired, real. I remember taking the photo and staring at it, taking in all of its reality. I know I don’t look my best, but I feel the thoughts that I had during the moment, simply by viewing the photo. This game of life is something to cherish. All of it.

Matt

ps- Thanks for being here.

poem

I don’t assume that homeless
people are unhappy
or miserable

It’s not for me
to decide how they feel

My cousin is homeless
I believe he’s given up on
the societal push to be
”successful“

I don’t think a patch
of woods
or a brook has ever
misguided him

I miss him
I hope to talk
with him
about woods
and streams
and about his
favorite place to sleep

-M. Taggart

Poem

I guess I’m lucky like that.
I can find happiness in the
dropping of a pine cone.

In the city. In the woods.
From the edge of my office chair.
In a crowded pub with a corner window.
A book in hand, and there I am,
lucky enough to raise my eyes.

-M. Taggart

Pros

Ecstasy begins one compromise at a time;
Without this ability one will never experience
true happiness, only a matrix of self-doubt
layered with hidden meanings.

-M. Taggart

Books and Brews!

Easily among my favorite days. The book signing was an incredible success. Even though my hands were shaking while signing the first few. 46982E77-AFA4-45BC-9691-E7BEDDCCDAA2

Summarizes my priorities. Me looking at my family.

What a memory! I’m one lucky man.

Cheers everyone!

Matt

Make your own

It’s 30 degrees. This is literally what I’m doing right now. Mid-day, Friday November the 8th. We’re burning downed  branches on our property. Megan just went inside to take a shower. And yes, that’s whiskey in the background.

I live an enchanted life. If my childhood torture taught me anything, it’s that societal rules don’t actually exist.

Make your own.

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Hello WordPress World!

Good morning, evening, or day! Depending on where you’re currently sitting.

I’m having a great morning and wanted to spread the feeling to anyone who stumbles upon this post.

And just in case you might need a bit of a pick-me-up, here’s this:

  1. You kick ass as you.
  2. You don’t need permission.
  3. You are loved.
  4. You are strong.
  5. You’re one step away from the next.
  6. Look up, the sky sees you, you are never alone.
  7. Close your eyes. See it. Get it.

 

Cheers, everyone!

Matt

 

I’ve always loved the different

Not to bore all of you. But what the fuck. I’ll do that. I gave Gavin a bath this afternoon and after that bath I placed him on our bed, tucked in towels the best that I can, which is nothing compared to how Megan does it- but there he lay, on our bed watching a documentary that he picked from YouTube. The documentary was an hour and a half long documentary about balls being displaced from one area to another via small leverage cranes and elevators. It was much like watching chalk slowly remove itself from being anything. There, Gavin, our soon to be four year old, lay watching a boring chalk show. Happily. He’s a bit different. I’ve always loved the different.

 

Cheers everyone!

Matt