Bloc

From deep

My thoughts slide sluggish

Like aching legs

Kicking hopelessly through

Cold water

And I wait

As the sound

Catches up to an image

That struggles to find sharpness

Words never come

And I blink slow

I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you.

I’m shocked at how little fun I actually have. This isn’t to say that I just sit around and mope, staring at walls and watching paint dry. Quite the contrary. Those closest to me know that I’m almost always doing something. If I’m not doing something, I’m on my way to doing something after having just come from doing something. Somehow, amid the whirlwind of activity, I haven’t taken much time to evaluate whether or not I enjoy doing any of it.

Weird. I can’t say I’m unhappy but I can’t say I’m happy either.

Somehow, I’ve constructed a life in which I’m always content. I’ve incorporated activities that make me feel like I’m doing something of worth, I have the right friends in the right places, I have a girl friend that is beautiful, kind and talented… and none of it makes me happy.

This post isn’t a pity party. I’m not proclaiming that life sucks or that shit is hopeless and have no reason to carry on. In fact, it’s the opposite. I’ve realized that happiness isn’t about the things I’m doing, the people I know or who I’m dating. Happiness is something I have to work at. It isn’t as easy as doing things you thought once brought you that happiness. It is, at lease for me, I a process in which I allow myself to question what it is that sparks joy in me. More importantly, I have to give myself the room to allow things to change.

Nostalgia is so dangerous. It keeps us so firmly cemented to a time and place. The occasional backward glance is useful, and even healthy, but living in it means you lose sight of where you are and care even less about where you’re going.

Once a year, I’ll go through some of the things I disliked when I was younger just to see if my tastes have changed. It’s a good check point that allows me to look at my own happiness objectively. This year’s early results are as follows:

  1. I still hate eggplant. It’s a texture thing.

  2. Goonies is far more brilliant than I remember it being when I saw it as a teenager

  3. Yup, I still love Air Supply despite the level of corniness, which I would tolerate from no other band.

Eve

What a year it’s been. It’s tough to know where to start so it seems only appropriate to start at the end. This year, more than any other, I find myself looking back far beyond the last 12 months. I catch glimpses of laughter and loitering, lingering long past the end of parties, and pondering this and that. Many faces flash past and I find myself zooming to hear and now. So much of has changed. So much has stayed the same. And I catch my breath long enough to laugh again. I have so many wonderful people in my life, seen so many amazing things… and I feel like I’m just getting started.

It’s probably normal to intro/spect far beyond normal in the years that large milestones are reached. 40. Crazy. I’m an old man and I love it.