“What does it feel like to be 50?”
“The end of the beginning.”
“What does that mean?”
“It is the end of the beginning of my life.”
“You realize you’re middle aged and have been for a while.”
“Nope, I am not. I just finished the end of the beginning of my life.”
“You can call it what you want, it doesn’t change things.”
“Doesn’t change it for you, I don’t live by your rules.”
“Do you have to be so difficult?”
“Do you have to be so foolish?”
“Why are you fighting with me?”
“I am not, I am tolerating you. There is a difference. This is the end of the beginning of my life, unless I am surprised and die sooner than I expect. But I have no plans for that,of course I don’t have plans for much of anything.”
Been blogging the night and day away in the spaces and places I normally do as well as other more private spots.
Sometimes I press publish and sometimes I press delete.
Been fighting my way out of a giant paper bag that is laced with plastic wrap and though it has been slow going,it has been going.
The words help light the pathway and provide a map and focal points that I use when I can’t see my Northstar.
Some days I feel like my air has been choked off and I struggle a bit more and sometimes I am surprised by a moment where it feels like I was just injected with it in liquid form.
I try to run with those moments and be prepared for the unexpected opportunity when it presents itself.
Those are moments where I sense a different kind of disturbance in the Force.
I imagine when it happens you see me raise my head…just a little and watch a small smile creep across my face.
There is no logic nor reason attached or tied into these moments or these ideas. Very few have any inkling of what this refers to but I suspect more than a few might recognize the magic if the magicians opened their bag of tricks.
But not all are granted access into that giant black bag so there is nothing more than hints and allegations of thoughts and ideas that have no shape other than that given by imagination.
Shadows touch and light dances across the surface of the water while the ships sail on by, destinations unknown or maybe…unshared.
The end of the beginning is similar to the start in that it requires learning how to walk again except this time around muscle memory aids the process of moving while reminding us how far we have already gone.
That wear and tear upon the body taps me upon the shoulder and reminds me how much I have asked this bag of bones of to do by sending a mix of mystery aches and pains to say hello.
So today I visited Dick’s and grabbed a new pair 0f shoes knowing they would provide more cushion and support.
Though I could power through without the support I see no reason to do so and have no need to prove my might.
It is one of the best parts of being 50.
You can like me, love me or adopt a different position if you like.
Kind of funny because as I write this Exile is playing on iTunes, singing about Kissing all Over and memories of sawdust covered floors and hot pizza with garlic rolls float on through my mind.
Old Jukeboxes, cigarette machines and no smoking sections that forgot to tell the customers that smoke can’t read nor follow directions join them.
Might be a good time to put on those shoes and see what adventures they accompany me upon during the end of the beginning.
It is time.
