do it your way

DO IT YOUR WAY

I have an hour before I step out in traffic.  Am assembling a fast-fact-sheet, for my own assessment.  Top of the list I inquire:  “What’s a person to do when it is obvious Tiger Woods, a great golf player, is not going to win the Master’s Golf Tournament in 2015.”  The list is spontaneous, but have decided if I write it down, it will be kept and recorded, not as an official record of a promising life, gone sad; but rather will be a lot like the blogs I write, A transcript of a human, soon to be forgotten.

There was a time when I was totally dedicated to the written word.  Stone Tablets.  Thought they were sacred.  Learned some geography in hopes it would help me, later on in life.  It didn’t.  Now the words come back as triggers for PSTD or some other affliction of living too long.  The words I thought important no longer are.  As an example of some of these words, I make it @2 on my list.  United Arab Emirates.  Qatar.  Iraq.  Jordon.  Red Sea.  Saudi Arabia, Mecca and Medina.  Once important, now forgotten most of the time now that I am retired and left on my own to just be.  And this gives me room for expansion. Time out for an expansion joint.   Time to contemplate the list and what might be on it.  Like I said, I have an hour to kill before I step out in traffic.

 

My mind urges changes.  Subtle hint that I am not satisfied with my current state.  Upon inspection by a 3^rd party, am not sure what the final determination will be.  Too close to the source of my inner thoughts, and is  buried by years of sub-conscious and embedded training.  Learned to read at an early age.  Now I question, “What good came of this.”  Learn to read.  Get educated.  Do what is expected.  Get a job.  Get drug tested.

 

And that is a different list, but it goes on and on.   Subtle changes and over time the world I grew up in has changed.  Now I am retired.  What I think or do is seldom recorded.  So in some way I want to change that.  In 2006 I started blogging.  Had no clue what a blog would do for me.  Blogger and Blog Sphere were new vocabulary.  Nothing to look up, we were basically starting with a blank mind and page.  Last generation and I think my father could read and do math, but he never went to college.  Went to war.  Had children on his days off.  Came back .   Got divorced after 10 years of being out of the army.  PTSD.  What do we suffer after a war?  Put that on my list.  What is the consequences of being at war most of my life, and yes.  I think about it.  Am over 70 years old now.

Time is running out.  Started this blog too late.  Now it feels incomplete, as if I am distracted by a previous schedule and commitment and am not giving this effort full attention.  Then I recall:  Read.  Write.  Math.  And at this stage of the game, it doesn’t all add up for me.  Not sure I am getting the right answer.  But then again, am in a solitary state of mind, have isolated myself from others on the outside.

Of course, that is only partially true.  I write a blog.  It doesn’t have to make sense, even to me.  I write.  I post.  I check back later to see if there are comments and feedback.  It is a blog and not face-book.  So the comments and feedback are somewhat different.  But do notice the element of white page silence or an indicator that somebody out there has hit the like button.  But no words.  Like button enterprise and it leaves me with a smile.  Maybe this is what goes on when time is running out and you are responding to a total stranger that you have no intention of sitting down face to face and having a cup of tea and a social interaction.  But that is not really my main concern for today.

 

I have decided changes need to be made.  Mostly this has to do with I expect in my small world and locality.  State of mind and quality of life, and it has a lot to do with how I want to spend my month of April.  Last year I had plans.  Now I don’t.  Not saying reality sucks, or that I am truly disappointed.  Count Down.  Lift Off.  Noticed some dude is headed out in orbit to the space station with a Russian.  Not sure the details.  Will spend a year in close quarters with Mr. Russian Man.  Maybe a lot like spending time in Blog Sphere.  One year.  And it makes me wonder.  Do we speak the same language.

 

Self-fulfilling prophecy set in motion by the circle of energy I create by putting it in writing.  Later now, and I can look back.  Stepped out in traffic around 2 pm, so yes I did find myself out of the house and in the neighborhood.  Bought some flowers, but not for my grave, as it was not yet rush hour so the threat of vehicle manslaughter was minimal.  Out in traffic, but never in the way you imagine it to be.  Took care of business and now just before midnight on the same day, have Ally McBeal, and Netflix on, with the sound turned down.  Ready to maneuver between reality and imagination, so I can tell you how my day turned out.

Gap and mind-change and so now the tone of this blog is at a level I don’t even recognize.    Same blog, but feels different now.  Like we have pulled the plug on any topic about stone tablets and reading and the art or science of blog architecture.  Lost in time, and never restarted, the noise of the people out in the street with me, is now muted.  Horns and beeping at the intersection of   cell phones and green light sound indicators, keep us safe.

 

Returned home.  Have unfinished business.  And it is late.  By the time this blog is completed and posted, it will be the next day.  And that in itself says it all.  But maybe that is only partially true.  Time is running out.  I need to end the anxiety that comes with a day spent out in traffic.  Consequences are minor and hence I report.  “Had a good day.”  Matters not what I am not telling you.  Another day.  Another blog.  Self-fulfilling prophecy and that’s the blunt impact of all of this.  He talks.  He writes.  He makes lists.

Nothing to look up and nothing to remember, he shuttles off to bed.  Puts the reading light on.  Makes nice with a book and celebrates the activity of reading by turning another page.  Still asking:  Do we still speak the same language?  Makes a memo for the List Department.  Does it matter if a computer is now driving that car, coming directly at me?  Puts the inquiry way down on his list.   Won’t matter unless there is a misstep or a malfunction, and because I am going to bed, all of that is in the future. Has very little or nothing to do with me.  Self-fulfilling Prophecy.  Nudges his NYC buddy and whispers:  “Forget About It.”  So I wave goodnight.  Realizing that I am running out of time and my day is almost over, I adjust the pillows for maximum comfort and close the window on my mind, preventing any more thoughts from becoming yesterday’s words, soon to be forgotten.