Confession

Confession: I am having anxiety about writing on the blog.  It has begun to stress me out.  I don't really have anything to say or show, though if you look at the last few blog pictures, you might notice a color theme.  I took all the photos on a little walk on Sunday and decided on that.  But they are not photos that you will remember in the morning.  I'm certain that no one has even noticed.  As far as having nothing to say, of course I mean currently.  My life is routinized depression and worry, the description of which I deleted yesterday.  I wake in the night in a terrible state.  

Most of the time, anyway.  Once in awhile I have the sort of dreams which would be unsavory to describe here.  Not unsavory.  That is not the right word.  They would be too savory, perhaps, and too revealing.  

I've thought maybe of writing about the past, telling stories I haven't told before, but I have resisted that as the territory of old men; however, that may be the direction in which we are headed, stories of small victories and terrible losses.  I'm trying to be honest with myself about my life right now and not blow too much smoke up my own ass.  I've overperformed and underachieved and vice-versa.  I've soared to mediocre heights above the heads of the hoi-polloi below.  Considering what most people "achieve" in life, that is easy.  What they accomplished, I eschewed.  

And in the end, here I am. . . and there they are. . . and the gulf is wide and deep.  

One version of "The Chinese Curse":

May you get what you desire.

Of course, there is the Faulknerian bromide, too:

Most people don't know what they want.

C.C. says most people only know what they don't want.  

When we do, on occasion, want something, we are not committed enough or willing to sacrifice what is needed to garner it.  Maybe that is not a bad thing.  The CEO of the company I worked for was, I always felt, a great example of that.  She KNEW she wanted to be a CEO, and so everything she did in her waking and sleeping hours was done to attain that goal.  She was not a person people wanted to be, however, at least not the people I liked.  She achieved, but the sacrifice seemed far too great.  

It was Trumpian.  Trump is probably the best example I could give today.  

Ambition is not all that pretty.  Case in point?  Name a great artist you would want for a parent.  Sacrifices must be made.  

And so we muddle on in quiet desperation.  

I have come to a greater appreciation of the old man piddling in his garage, however.  Contentment may be more attractive than greatness.  

Acceptance, maybe.  I don't know.  

But I've certainly laid out some thematic bones here to inform my tales of adventure and daring.  Don't start the journey until you've envisioned the endgame or you'll end up like that Trump shooter.  

WTF was he thinking?  

Where you end up will never be certain, of course.  Even a great captain can get lost at sea.  But that doesn't mean you should throw the charts overboard.  Do what you can to get where you're going, kids.  

"Dude. . . get a grip.  We're going wherever the winds will take us."

Let me know how that turns out.