I think turning 50 is messing with me.
I don’t consider myself someone who has trouble enjoying their “now,” but I do know myself as someone who thinks often about their “next.” I have moments where I’m saturated in nowness, and I think sometimes I think the final next is going to be all-time that; all-time in-the-moment mindfulness. But I think that’s probably impossible for me, every new now will have its new nexts for me to think about. It’s how I’m wired, I think.
I sometimes wish I was better at finding/ascribing meaning/value to real-time things, because I think I tend to assign meaning more in retrospect. Occasionally I’ll recognize the gravity of a just-happened thing, but I feel like it’s something I do more upon reflection than instantaneously. I bet this is a thing, like in some psychology handbook or whatever, and that I have that thing.
50 is the beginning of some stuff I think; the end of some stuff, too; also probably just some stuff. I want to try to see all three with equal clarity. The stuff of this very minute and second, the stuff that came before, and that stuff that hasn’t happened yet.
Also written on this day...
- run over by the wheel - 2009
- weekending - 2008
- that stupid 9/11 fee - 2005
- 60GB flavor - 2004
- thank you mr. axworthy - 2003