One thing I’ve come to understand as I age to perfection is this: It’s my blog. It can take a vacation any time I want.
Used to be that I was compulsive about showing up. If I said I’d be there at 8:30, I was there at 8:25. If I committed to helping take tickets at the gate, I was going to be there. If I decided to write a blog about aging and post at least once a week, then it shall be done. Period. There was no wiggle room. Ever.
Not even for the freight train that insisted on blocking my way at 8:20. You know the one that has two locomotives pulling 1000 cars stacked with automobiles and tanks and other heavy things. Slow things.
My breathing would get heavy and my palms would become slick with sweat as I sat in agony waiting and counting cars, my anxiety level rising as the count clicked along the rails. The world was going to come to a screeching halt if I was not THERE at 8:30.
Or if the world began to spin and tilt a little crazily for me as the holidays approached and my blog posts got farther and farther apart, the blog police were going to reach out through cyberspace and slap me silly. Or take my blog space away from me.
Not so much. I know better these days.
The train stopped everyone else in their tracks, too. Including some of those who were supposed to be at the same meeting at 8:30. Plus, I have also learned that the one who gets anywhere on time usually stands there alone for about ten minutes until everyone else starts to wander in. Clocks don’t seem to mean as much as they used to. What was I so harried about?
Or as much as I like to believe you all are waiting for my next blog post with great anticipation, I know from six decades of experience—plus a few extra years tacked on now—that you are just as busy and frazzled as I am. And you don’t need me telling you how to get from one end of your day to another, anyway. Our time together is happy, I hope, but we each set our own course through life.
Oh, I can put things in a new, sometimes quirky, light for you and we can chuckle together on this mysterious journey, but in the scheme of things, you’re doing OK on your own.
So, about a month ago I realized I hadn’t had anything to say for a while. My first reaction, as happens to most of us, was to revert to familiar behavioral patterns. For an instant I was back at that railroad crossing and couldn’t get by all those cars.
I caught myself, though.
So, here I am, just like that little paper clip guy that taps on the inside of your computer screen to help you out when you need it. Life has calmed down and it’s time to get across those tracks as we head into 2013. I hope we all have a good one.
“It's my experience that most folk who ride trains could care less where they're going. For them it's the journey itself and the people they meet along the way."