What If I Told You She Still…

“What would you say if I told you I think the cards are just a prop you use as you tell people what you think they want to hear?”

She smiled and asked me if that would make me feel better.

“Would it make what I hear any less true or you any more capable of accepting my words? Would you feel better if I said she never really loved you or would you rather hear she never stopped?

If I told you that you could be a professional writer but only if you make the choice to do the work would it make a difference?”

I intentionally remained silent because there is power that comes with it. Most people will not sit with it and if you give them time they will fill in the gaps.

But she didn’t mind silence and it soon became apparent there was no discomfort for either of us and I recognized soon I would have to decide whether to let it lie or to take what had been given to me and to do something with it.

What If I Told You She Still…

“If you said she still loved me I would believe you and if you said I could be a professional writer I would believe that too.

But neither of those are statements are things that you cannot have devised from the conversation we had.

Granted I did not mention a woman but how hard is it to guess that a man of my age might have had a relationship or too.

I’m certain I mentioned something about my degree so it would be reasonable to suggest that I might have interest in using it professionally. Hell, I already have.”

This time she smiled and said we all have free will and can make choices based upon the information we have or do not have.

We spoke for a few more minutes and this time I asked some pointed questions to which I received answers that made me wonder if maybe there was truth in there.

Truth that I could listen to or ignore because it was up to me to choose whether to respond or react to what was given.

If Sarte were here we would dig into what it means to be our choices and discuss the impact of time upon that.

There was a time when I planned on being a sportswriter and a time when I thought it would be good to be a lawyer who specialized in Constitutional law.

And let’s not forget the years in which my choices were focused upon playing for the Dodgers.

Some of those choices are no longer choices because of things that I have done or things that others have chosen, but not all.

There are opportunities that I can pursue if I choose to go down certain paths.

It is unlikely that I’ll become a pro ball player at 50 plus, but it is not impossible to become a lawyer or a novelist.

Those threads still exist.

What Awaits Me In India?

Sometimes I think about taking a trip to India because ancient places always call out to me.

When I think about them I hear voices calling out to me, beckoning me to come find them. Those voices might be real and they might be imagination, but I never care.

It doesn’t matter to me whether I am just hearing things because there is adventure there and adventure means stories.

Stories are about experiences and no one can take those away from you. Experiences aren’t like material possessions that can be stolen, sold or worn out.

They are locked in the vault and can be accessed as you want or need them.

I am a collector of experiences and that is a big focus on the coming second half of my life.

My body may not act as it once did and there may be some harder moments dealing with little niggling issues that weren’t challenges before.

Mystery aches, strange pains and bruises may come along from time to time but they aren’t enough to stop me from following the song I hear.

I am cognizant of sometimes living in my own world and of being able to focus in a way upon somethings that others find troubling.

But I don’t care.

I am who I am and you can take it or leave it.

*****

India, Scandinavia, Africa, South America–so many places to visit and see.

The idea is simple, when the end finally comes I want to turn this body in to the rental company and have them wonder what the hell went on.

I want them to see it can’t ever be used again because the tires are bald, the spark plugs are sparkless and the tranny busted and broken from use.

If it happens as I see it there will be one hell of a smile on my face.

Maybe even a satisfied yawn.

Along The Winding Road

Sometimes I wonder if there is a celestial GPS that shows where we are upon the long and winding roads of our lives.

Would I change how I live if I knew I had more or less time?

I don’t know, I can’t really say.

Tomorrow I’ll do laundry, work around the house and try to catch up on the things that didn’t get done because I had to fix the furnace.

We’ll probably go to the Chanukah candle lighting tomorrow night so that we can help show there are more than a few of us MOTs around here and to make sure the kids see there is a community for us.

Somewhere along the way I’ll boot up my work computer and try to get a jump on the coming week.

This last one was brutal and it sucked all I had to give out of me, but looking back I realize that I can be pretty damn effective even in the middle of a storm.

I am proud of that, not everyone can stand in that kind of wind.

But then again, if I knew where I was on that GPS of life maybe I would look at the last week and shake my head.

Maybe I would see it as a waste of time, or maybe I wouldn’t.

We are our choices, aren’t we.