Category: Just sayin’

See what’s become of me

April is fleeing. The year is almost one-third past. I am one-twelfth of the way to my 74th birthday. Time, time, time measures the fleeting numbers of our days.

It can feel like the days are flying by — how is it possible we are already this many years old? 

But a long time is still a long time. If I get my dad’s 96 years of life (and that’s a big “if,” as no other man in my family lived that long), I have around 22 years to go. That is a long time, long enough to grow a human to adulthood, and that is not a swift process.

Twenty-two years ago I had published none of my 17 books, and I was barely one-quarter of the way through my long association with my dear Red. I had been editor of the venerable Door County Advocate for less than two years, and the paper had not yet been sold to the corporation that would gut that wonderful newspaper. All of that is a lifetime ago, so I may have as much as a lifetime to live.

I’m on my 32nd journal in 11 years; if I were to live another 22, would anyone ever read through my 96 journals? What a thought.

Will I look back someday on the completion of my Dimensia saga? (And wouldn’t you like to know what that is?) I know every day ends with boxes left unchecked on my to-do list, and so I expect my life will, too. Some days, even the “write in journal” box is unchecked.

Time is a-wasting, too. I have fewer miles to go before I sleep than I have already traversed, and that is always cause for some anxiety. We know what “should” be done today and we tackle it head-on — what work we should do on the tomorrow and next-year tasks are a little fuzzier to determine. What steps should I take today to reach what destination next April 27, or five April 27s from now? How can I know? It’s only a guess, a hope and a prayer what I will be doing in 10 minutes. All of our plans are a guess, a hope and a prayer, though, aren’t they?

And yet here I am, relatively safe and comfortable after 73 years of guessing, hoping and praying. If that seems like a long time, that’s because it is. Never mind that it was about five minutes ago that I was reading a book about the far-distant future called 1984 and watching a movie about decades from now called 2001: A Space Odyssey. 

Renewal and revival

May I interest you in a little dystopia? Big Brother is watching you. War is peace. Ignorance is strength. Freedom is slavery.

Oh, but the sun is shining and the mayflowers have emerged after their long rest. Who can look up into all that blue and scream that the sky is falling? I cannot. I refuse to see any darkness on the horizon. A month ago this green grass was brown and gray, and we couldn’t go outside without layers. Dystopia, shmystopia.

There is music everywhere, pulsing rhythms on a cosmic scale, gentle birdsong, and no, this world is not going off the rails.

That guy you’re telling me to hate? Those people you want me to despise? I don’t see them. What I see are people who want a better world — is that a bad thing? They’re trying to give their kids more than they had growing up, trying to leave the world in better shape than they found it, just like you, just like me. Oh my goodness, the problem is that they’re in that other political party? Are you serious?

That man who just died, what did he sing again? “There ain’t no good guys, there ain’t no bad guys, there’s only you and me, and we just disagree.” You don’t see eye to eye on everything — that makes you and him human, not evil. Good grief.

I dreamed we all were all right — what a lovely dream it was. I dreamed a man who was more than just a man said we should love our neighbors, and on this little speck of dust in an infinite universe, everyone we meet is a neighbor — so I love you, man. That doesn’t seem to be such a hard thing to do when you look at it that way. 

And if you can’t love somebody because they’re not like you, you’re in deep trouble, buddy, because no two of us are alike. Everyone you meet is different from everyone else, so you can either love them or live a very lonely existence.

Oh, but he’s wrong about so much stuff? That’s OK. When I said it’s not about good guys and bad guys, I didn’t say somebody can’t be wrong or think stupid things. 

This may come as a shock, but some of the stuff the other party talks about is right, and some of the stuff your party talks about is wrong. That doesn’t make them evil; they just see things differently.

Why are we even talking about this? Haven’t you noticed what a beautiful day this is?

And, by the way, war is war. Peace is peace. Ignorance is ignorance. Strength is strength. Freedom is freedom. And slavery is slavery, even when nobody’s watching.

A surge of entropy

This is a wanna / don’t wanna day. I want to do all the things that must be done, and I want to crawl back into bed. When will I mate the desires of my heart to the actions of my body? I’m ready to erect wondrous structures and grow fabulous gardens, but I seem to have erectile dysfunction. How do I push through the mope? If the certain knowledge that time is running out doesn’t motivate me, then what’s it going to take?

Once the biological clock ticks past 70, most every morning is a reminder that you have more mornings behind you than ahead. Everything is still doable, you just need more rest after the doing — but the urge to keep resting is powerful.

One foot in front of the other, and repeat, repeat, until it’s automatic and you’re in the zone and in the rhythm, a-rocking and a-rolling, feeling capable of anything. But then comes the resting, and the resting is so comfortable. Maybe I can walk those miles tomorrow and a little more on the day after tomorrow.

This much I know: I don’t know much. All the knowledge I’ve accumulated over the years is a fraction of what there is to know. And anyway, if I’m so smart, why ain’t I rich? Yeah, yeah, I know, I know I’m wealthier than most of the world’s humans by accident of birth. I was born on third base and I think I’ve hit a triple and all that.

And yet I still worry about the bills and the gimpy knee and how am I going to take care of this and that, and yes I know about the lilies of the field and the sparrows, so maybe I should seek the kingdom so all of these things will come. Yep, that’s what I’ll do, I’ll seek his kingdom, right after I rest for awhile.

And that’s how to just fade away, my fellow old people. Let that be an example to you young ’uns, too. No life is wasted, you can always serve as a bad example.

This is the season of verdant green. The flowers’ yellow is visible at the end of their stems, and they may burst at any moment, perhaps even today.

Last summer’s remains are covering the new growth and eager to be swept away — let my arms do the sweeping — I’ve rested enough, time for spring cleaning and the fresh coats of paint and all the other doings to be done!

This first cup of coffee still waits to be finished, though, and I have my morning puzzles ahead. Yes, just a little more rest, and before I know it, day is done and time for bed.

I’m exaggerating. Miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. The nice part about seeking the kingdom of God is you don’t have to look very far to realize you’re already living there, if you know where to look. And in springtime it’s all around us.