Sunday, November 25, 2018

What next? Just some thoughts on aging

11/23/2018

 So I passed another birthday a couple weeks ago. I won't say the number, but I'm eligible for senior discounts. This, while welcome, is at times alarming. Even so, if people want to give me swag because of my having a certain number of years, who am I to object?

 Yet in so many ways, I'm a kid, so if that kid's body has more years than kids normally do, I'll go with that.

 First, I hate any sentence that begins "at your age." Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do "at my age."

 I'm healthy (well, there's a trick knee going on right now, but overall...)

 I have some favorite activities: swimming, writing--running if legs are both working, which isn't the case just now, but it will be.

Not as well organized as I'd like to be, and as I read different how-to pieces about blogging, I see that I'm supposed to give advice about something I excel in. This is difficult. 

 I don't really excel in anything much. 

 This isn't to denigrate myself. Focus has never been my biggest strength--but curiosity fills in where focus is lacking. I want to explore new possibilities, even if in the end I don't reach any level of expertise. And I don't like telling others what to do. You're adults. I won't even tell you to do what makes you happy because then I'd be contradicting myself and telling you what to do. :) 

 It also isn't to say I haven't accomplished some worthwhile things: My longest swim was 8 miles and I've done some personally significant shorter swims as well, including the Great South Bay (6 finishes of 7 attempts), run 7 out of 9 attempted marathons, including Boston (qualified in 1995), published some writing (and not just here, not that here is so bad), received a Ph.D. So I've done a few things, but I'm humbled by the immense achievements of friends, which I celebrate, because they're invitations to me to aim high.

 I still (from the time I first came upon it) love Virginia Woolf's vow to "go on adventuring, changing, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one's self, let it find its dimensions, not be impeded." This was from A Writer's Diary (location 206, par. 1).

 Some things I haven't done with my life that I still want to do (and if you want to offer help, I won't mind, but don't worry if you're not so inclined for any reason. You're welcome to read and enjoy)...

 Swim ten or more miles (with a wild pipe dream of maybe someday swimming the English Channel--beneath all this though I love to swim, so welcome your swimming adventures and suggestions.

 Write a book...maybe a good way to finance the above, but I'm not betting the electric bill. Many books written--only a small proportion become best-sellers. It's okay. If I write a book and it's not a best seller, it's still an achievement.

 Running: I used to think I'd run a 100 mile ultramarathon, and "never say 'never'"--but my interests have changed. 

 Own my own home 

 Have a car

 Last two are unlikely since I haven't the cash flow. 

 But this isn't a go-fund-me page, and I've gotten along fine without either for a very long time, so no need to take it to heart. 

 If you're going to give, there are so many without homes at all and trapped amid wildfires or in abusive relationships or major illnesses (don't get me started about health care in America). They need your money more than I do. 

 Maybe the benefit to you of this blog is for you not to feel terrible if you haven't hit your hoped for milestones. We're alive. There's time. Let's keep at this and help one another.

 Maybe we just need to figure out how or whether. If you always thought you wanted to do something, you can still go for it...or you might change your interests and go for something else. All good.

 Work Cited
Woolf, Virginia. A Writer's Diary, Being Extracts from the Diary of Virginia Woolf, ed. Leonard Woolf. Harcourt, 1954. Kindle ebook file.

posted by DPMcManus @ 8:11 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

So many experiences, so little time--here's a poem about being a supernumerary in the opera "Sky on Swings"

So it appears I've been neglecting this blog--so much goes on Facebook--I think it's time that more work goes here. While this spot doesn't get the traffic that Facebook does, the saying "If you build it, they will come," from Field of Dreams, might apply here. Stay tuned! Meanwhile, my most recent poem...

Sky—Diary of a Supernumerary

In the Kimmel Center, I wait, words slipping

my mind. Waiting in line, I gaze up. An endless ceiling fades

into space. I walk across stage on cue, fade off.

I am presence only, appearing to have Alzheimer’s

(pretense aided by memory lapses. There is no

singing. Is there a swan song—maybe mine?)


We come in different colors, all of us

fading into space, wondering.

(Has our fade begun?)
Who are we? We cross life’s stage, then gone. We are here,
however, always, walking, walking, weaving
into and out of lives, maybe noticed, always
present. Have we lived? had spouses? children? jobs? Or faded
over years, no connections, no one to choose us as their first and only? born
to roam? remind you that we live
and eat and sleep and die under your eyes?
We live. That much is true, the world our poem, the universe our music.

Where after that? We are a line, stretching

into space, connected  threads,

the universe, the atoms, protons, quarks, interwoven

to make us, disperse

us, and we keep coming, which is our prayer.


Where are we going? We become

the afterlife, the before life, the during life, the lives,

marching across the universe, reminding you,

you are that line. You too march across years and into the void,

or into the light, or into the heart of someone who falls in love. We are

forever, no end, no beginning, like God or so we’ve heard of God.

God marching with us across time, across space, into the firmament, into your heart,

where you fall in love, maybe have children,

the chain that takes us from now

to forever amen,

from now to forever amen.

posted by DPMcManus @ 11:49 AM 0 comments