The conversation wanders here and there and I wonder if the other party is interested in knowing more about me or just wants me to listen to their words.
I don’t know if they recognize I am willing to share more or appreciate it is not something I do with most people but I am not about to volunteer it either/
If the moment comes it comes and if it doesn’t well that will be fine too and we’ll never know if it’s their loss, my loss or our collective loss.
I am in a particular kind of mood and comfortable with it.
“Are you the iceberg or the Titanic” is the question I ask myself but don’t bother to answer probably because I already know the answer for me and am pretty sure I know for them too.
Midway through my walk I notice I am huffing and puffing and that breathing is a little more labored and wonder what that is about.
It happens repeatedly and I ask the family if they have noticed anything and they all tell me I am a noisy breather.
Dr. Google suggests it could be a number of different things some of which are of no import and some which are of a more serious nature.
I try taking a deeper breath and it sort of reminds me of life 40 or so years before when the air in LA was a little thicker.
Could be the pollen count. Could be extra padding around the middle or something else.
Close my eyes and think for a moment and recognize I am not worried but I am curious. Averaging about four miles a day so it seems to me that if I keep doing it I’ll get some answers.
Passed by a Copperhead during the most recent venture outside and took a moment to ask him to step aside or be choked out.
“Dude, I had a crazy Monday. I went way outside of my comfort zone and worked on a major project that I think I just might bring home so slither away or see what happens.”
The snake says nothing which is a relief because if it said anything back that I could understand I might be concerned.
****
Two types of adrenaline rushes pass through me.
The first comes as part of the big project I am working on and the mix of confidence and anxiety that come with it.
It feels like I am strapped into a fighting chair and I am wrestling with a Marlin. Part of me feels badly for the fish and part of me feels like I imagine I would have felt 100,000 years ago fighting bears for food.
Mix of will, determination, brute strength, skill and a little luck are what I count on to pull me through it.
Tomorrow I’ll wade back into it and see if I can finish what I started. I smell blood in the water and sense potential and if you know me that drives me.
The second rush comes during the walk and even though I wonder about the breathing I feel that surge that comes with exercise and it feels like years are dropping off of me.
Technically I am 51 but if I didn’t see myself in the mirror I might forget. It almost always surprises me to see my reflection because I every age and wonder how I got to be this one.
There aren’t many wrinkles and the hair I do have is still quite dark but I see the miles and think about what it means if I only have another 25 years or so.
The plan is to have far more and for them to be healthy but on the other hand, what if 25 is about all I get.
How do I want to live?
I think I about it often.
