I've already slipped from youth to adulthood to middle-aged. But now I am slipping into inertia. I don't care much about the age thing. I suppose I wish I had done more, realized more, and tried more when I was young. But, I don't have many regrets. I am happy in middle-age. It fits me. I suspect it fits a lot of us that don't fit the ideals of beauty and desire.
But, I can't abide the lack of caring I feel too often. I used to care so much. Sure, I cared about the wrong things, and dumb things and hockey way, way, way too much. But I cared. Too often I am unmoved.
That is the problem.
I am not in a place of serene non-attachment. I am unmoved by inertia and malaise and a general lack of fucks given. I used to move. I used to try. I am threatening to be beaten by life. Of course, life eventually wears us all down. Life is undefeated. Time will fuck us all over. I don't mean that. I mean I am succumbing to the subtle dance of time and stress and expectations and outcomes.
I am talking about.....
I am talking about....
I am mostly talking nonsense.
Mostly, I need to remember to move. I need to remember to do. I need to remember to get up and go and do what I need to do to feel the way I want to feel and not wait to feel the right way to move.
I expect I'll forget this reminder by tomorrow.
Hopefully, I'll remember to write again then and remind myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment