Beautiful Minds

If a super-smart geneticist were to study the genome of my family - our little group of artists, writers, thinkers, dreamers, and reality-stretchers, they might be amazed. Or they might scratch their chins and squint in confusion at the results.

And we'd laugh. We siblings have known this for a long time.

At family gatherings, brother and sister in-laws would huddle separately in a protective, collective quiet. They'd raise eyebrows and spin fingers against their heads. Roll their eyes.

Who cares? We've always known we were right. That we're leaders, communicators and creators. Among us, Indian headdresses all around, no single feathers.

Give us the ball. Get out of the way. We need space. Step aside. For your own good.

In our sometimes churning wake, there are waves. They're kinda cool - but not for everyone. Maybe best chronicled by a professional storm chaser. They are warm and Caribbean - but eminently capable of capsizing the passing sailboat or innocent sea turtle.

It is there, in that synaptic storm, that my mind lives. I am idealistic, determined, disjointed, confusing, clairvoyant, creative and powerful. I can rock your world. Spin you around.

Love you. 

After all, God gave me an amazing three million lines of special source code.

Sometimes, I wonder about finding someone else like me out there. The best I can do is look for someone willing to hide with me under the overpass, in awe of the purple clouds, lightning, and tornadoes. Someone willing to lie in the sand at sunset and wear out my iPhone battery playing music. To look across fall fields and imagine tents and tepees.

Someone who wants to incessantly take iPhone pictures. Love me enough to smell my breath and look into my eyes and see my mind.

Might be tough. These John genes - they're God's overtime work. They're artistic and lyrical. And sometimes puzzling but kinda cool. They're the Yellowstone. The special blue of turquoise that can only be seen staring at Caribbean waters, with the sand between your toes. The Appalachian mountains and their trails and mysteries. The Hudson River and New York City.  Sleepy Hollow.

And they're not for everyone.

Perhaps that's why I'm waiting to find someone on that same ether. Someone who wants to live within storms and sunsets; inside colors and sounds and feelings. With passion, change, and beauty.

Kindness, understanding, love.

As I wait, I'll be on the beach, listening to music. Looking for inspiration. Hoping for purple skies and lightning.