Saturday, November 04, 2006

One of My Last Transfers

I was wondering. Contemplating things in general. Reviewing the overall status quo. It dawned on me that yes, it is same shit different day. But somewhere for someone else it isn't. Somebody is catching shit, losing out, or winning the lottery. Life today is an about turn from yesterday. Their comfort zone invaded by events beyond their control or consideration.

Just who decides, hands out these detours anyway? We all take turns I guess. Go to the front of the line. And it doesn't really matter if it's God, your neighbor or by lucky chance. At some point something will drag us out of our SSDD day into nightmares or fantasies. The trick is to remain sane in between.

I have taken different approaches over the years to remaining sane. I cannot count my time as a child. As a child I spent all my time finding out what sane meant. As a teen and young adult I determined nothing was sane. No sense to any of it. Self medicating myself to an uneasy equilibrium, I spent too many years in disconnect. I snapped out of it in time to settle down and perform my survival of the species schtick. Marriage, mortgage, and a kid forcing sanity down my throat.

Now the home and hearth stand quiet. The rush to make it this far is over. I am noticing fewer loose ends. Challenges have been met or denied. I realize that what I might have wanted to become is not even close to what I became. Intentions have turned into consequences. I am facing a tighter range of choices now. My timeframe is shrinking. A deadline is on a horizon that creeps closer every day. I now realize my sunset is not just possible but certified for sure gonning to happen. The irrational overwhelming fear of it I felt as a child learning what that meant has been replaced with grudging acceptance.

But you know what? I have no regrets. Even though I could have done some things differently, smarter, kinder or not been so very serious. It is a waste of my time dwelling on the woulda coulda shoulda. Anquishing over spilt milk, not hearing opportunity knock. Especially now that I know for certain where there was once a beginning, there must also be an end. All that seems less important now. All that seems so over with, fruitess to cry about.

My nest is empty and my mate grows old next to me. I will embark on the time that is left with all the gumption I have. This bus trip is not over , but I have cashed in one of my last transfers.