The past few days I've been hunting for my center so I could identify something to write about. The centering I was seeking was more like a bagel hole. All around that hole is warm chewy textured flavor. Just a hole within me. I know my centered self is there but I couldn't taste it, feel it, tear it apart to butter it, and devour. Maybe I've exhausted myself.
As I mulled this moment I recognized there are small moments of my days. The random musings in my head are the connective tissue of the day, the week, and me that is my center. These little hits of oh that's going on within me hints or points to the picture on the box cover of a jigsaw puzzle. That I need to spill on the floor and look at each piece to see where it fits with another. So here are my recent rambling.
Aging sucks*. Plain and simple. All our parts are feeling the wear and tear. Not just the physical parts of us. The emotional and psychic parts. There's a causal relationship. We get old we hurt. I've had some recent physical issues, all minor and repairable. Not like my near death TBI in 2012 which at that time required a long rehab. Being pissed off it happened I came at my rehab and healing with a vengeance. And that right there is a counter point to today. My recent minor health crap weighted on me differently. It pulled me under. It is the small daily erosions of life that hints, the end is nigh. Or better said enough.
The mornings are less bluebirds singing. Bright sunshine streaming though the window warming my face. Where I raise both arms, stretch, yawn, rub my eyes, and say good morning little birdies. Nope it is more I wake feeling all the various minor aches. Feel all the major emotional pain that has accumulated like a water in a rain barrel. I say loudly Donna. I think softly I just can't do this again. Can't do another day of playing hide and seek with my life. Looking for things to do that will give me meaning and purpose. How long can I faux live?
In my defense I do find things to do. Less meaning and purpose more busy hands keep me from self harm and self loathing. Like this writing. I do this for me. To see me from the inside and put it on paper hmmmm okay now. All done in isolation. Which I don't regret because like anyone who wants to listen to this must be more bored than me. That's not fair to them. TBH I'm just not one to share this level of whiny rambling. I hear it and recoil in horror that I have become the poster geezer for all that is called old age. Like my face is on a carton of aging milk. Souring.
Went to the gym. Got some reps in. Which entailed leaving the house. Seeing others. Cleared some of the above from my mind. Listened to a Podcast about Kids Not Flourishing. Exercise does do wonders for the cranky mind. Here are two observations that speak to direction.
Learning that the destruction of attention/focus in teens is directly related to the SM, phones, quick dopamine hits from SM, and the loss of social in person connection spoke to my being easily bored. This may be why I need to keep moving and bouncing from something to something. Have I fallen victim to the dopamine rush of SM? I do know I've forever had the attention span of gnat. Whereas Donna could sit and drill down for hours in complete engagement and focus. So jelly. What can I do to get there? Or better at it.
2. The here and now. The present that I'm not a fan of. This is a reality. A reality I live in. Accept it. Work with it. Donna when asked if she would get work done to look younger would say, "Nope, work with what I got to make it work for me as I see me." Perhaps within that is my here and now. Work with it to make it work. But, I will not surrender nor be passive with all the insults life throws at me. Fuck no. I guess as I did with my TBI I will be deliberately vengeful with all unwanted that rains upon me.
This was sent to me from a buddy. "Frank Lloyd Wright completed 1/3 of his life's work between the ages of 80 and 92." Nice try. Does not make me feel any better to see you have to live to that age to over come procrastination. I look at that and think 2/3's? He did a lot before the final 1/3. Not sure I've done anything. Oooops self worth self appraisal strikes again.
*I promised myself and those who know me this entire Boomer bitching about their health, healthcare, and aches was just crap. I refused to participate in it with others. Here I am doing it. Fuck! This is less that here and more about it's internal dialogue within me