In an attempt to challenge myself, I joined a personal essay writing workshop through Inprint last month. (which may or may not improve my writing) While I have been writing more, I haven’t been updating the blog like I want. Anyway, I wrote a piece on the concept of the mid-life crisis last week. I’m posting another tiny bit of it here (since I already posted some of it on Monday) that wasn’t totally ripped apart.
I’m still taking in suggestions from the teacher and class, and revising it as we speak. (may post later) But for now I’m cheating, and getting my two post a week requirement out of the way.
Maybe I would feel different about it, if there were fewer things on my life’s to do list that were already scratched off. First, I would need to come up with an actual to do list of things I wanted to do before I could start scratching things off. All of a sudden there was a tug in my belly, telling me that time was quickly running out.
Running out of time, that’s the spark isn’t it? It’s like realizing that the starters pistol that sounded when your mother birthed you into this world, is just now being heard thirty-five, forty, forty-five years later. You look down at your feet and see them still in the starting blocks, that thin crack in the sky has finally triggered a response, and your muscles won’t move as quickly as they used to, but your mind does, and boy does it go.
After years of waiting, no one came – Thom Yorke
Way back when, when the best years of my life were still thought to be in the not so distant future, anything seemed possible. The Rolling Stones were some old jokers even back then, and hearing them sing about how time was on their side, I thought time was going to be a friend to me too, well, at least be on my side or something. Little Orphan Annie was in on the time is your friend thing too. She sang about tomorrow, with all of this expectation and energy, and how she loved it, and it was only a day away. Things seemed possible, never mind the fact that I didn’t have any solid plan or any hint of one. Great songs do that, communicate an idea so effectively that you almost forget that, that beautiful and sunny tomorrow that Annie so deeply loved, will most likely be as shitty as today.
Today, tomorrow, the next day, they start to look and feel the same after a while. I wasn’t unlike most people who thought they could grab the world by the tail and do what I wanted. I did things my own way and I did them at my own pace. My pace, despite a relatively consistent punctuality, could be characterized, as one job performance review put it, lacking urgency. Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans right? The plans, ideas, and dreams that I once held so closely, and thought so much about, sat in Father Time’s waiting room, hoping to get cleared to participate in the big dance.