Funny title. Of course I know what it looks like. I keep looking back and seeing what is not. That's what the past tells me, what's not present in the here and now. The past held much for me. Now there's darkness, fear, failing at trying, and the aging of body, mind, and soul. Those are the tennis balls I juggle each day dropping one that ends up under the bed. Out of reach laughing at me since getting up off the floor is an olympic event.
There's more to the past that's not memory and emotion driven. Since Donna's death I wrote a memoir (Donna, A Photo Memoir of Love and Loss) I started an ersatz form of journaling. Keeping notes, making notes, hearing words/phrases, and just general hmmmm I like that. So there are the juggling tennis balls of my life today. There are these captured moments etched into paper. The funny part of the paper and the 25 pages of captured things in my Notes Appis they may speak to me in ways that will engage me again. I need to look at all my journals, notes, and idea musings hold it up to the tennis balls. Make a Venn of the past and present. See if there's an overlap that enlightens. God knows I need that so much these days.
I don't revisit the captured words etc because of embarrassment on my part to face, huh I wrote that. Seeing me in print, is a whole other level of yikes I really am all I imagine I'm not. On the other hand there is great curiosity to see what I thought was meaningful, smart, and interesting. To see its trend line to today. Some of those entries can become new journal entries here as opposed to rambling. And become a different here and now.
Right now in the present the entire world of meaning and purpose is fraying at the edges. Kinda like those jeans you've owned for decades and the hem at the bottom of the legs are just stringy white threads. Dirty looking. Time to buy new jeans. That right there is my work around for no meaning and purpose, doing things. Any things. Because boredom is my kryptonite. It will spiral me into places that are dark and self destructive.
All the writing, cleaning, cooking, chasing dust bunnies like Elmer Fudd, etc etc on to infinitum is loosing it's value. Part of it is the future vista of my life is cloudy. Hiding it's hope potential. The daily aches and pains of aging shouts "Good morning, not so fast". Reinforces that today is yet another day of diminishing returns. The curve of life slops down to the right. Between the age of 45 and 60 it's all about sudden death. After 65 it's the erosion of all our chronic bits and pieces. Our bodies and minds going rouge.
I am here doing this ersatz journaling/blogging. More beating the boredom back. To what end? What outcome? The false belief that it will achieve some durable outcome for me? For place in the world? All of that is false god of 'Comparison is the thief of joy'. Do this for some self knowledge. Awareness. Self-actualization. Fuck ya if that is even possible actualize me.
Let me see where this goes.
Let’s see where this goes. Here is an excerpt from October 2020 'Animating My Grief Like A Pixar Film'.
“Death doesn’t burden your life. It animates your life.” Stephen Jenkinson
Ever wonder if you are going to find peace or a place in life after a loss? Wonder when there will be resolution of the grief or sadness? If you are a reader or a follower you know I have been batting the entire grief, loss, mourning puck around for a few years. Yet again this avatar is changing.
Approaching the anniversary (August 7) of Donna’s death I have been harboring a sense that my writings and podcasts on grief and mourning are the boring ramblings of an old man lost in the struggle to find meaning as I limp toward my expiration date. And truthfully you three loyal readers have been kind and patient with me and this scratched record I play. I felt as if I was coming to the end of this, not because the grief has expired but because who gives a shit. But as with most reflection something appears in the periphery of life that reframes it all. Some new knowledge appears that adds to our consciousness and changes one's outlook and opinion.
There you have it new consciousness and outlook from then. Years later I’m taking the time to look again. All my previous musings were boring. Or so I thought. Today, they still may be boring but, they are for me. To embrace, hold, and learn from. To find growth.