the secret of life

It’s taking me way too long to figure out how life works. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a little slow or because I’ve leaned toward cliff-jumping: when in doubt, take a gamble.

The understanding that other people seem to have been born with evades me. For instance, am I really so busy or just incapable of keeping up with everything I stuff my life with? What about those years in my thirties when I did practically nothing? Was it really the blank it seems to be? Does it seem to have been idle only in comparison with now? Was I revving up for one crazy run up the ramp of the rest of my life? Or, most likely, was I recovering from a cliff-jump, hunting for my life, and finally, finding a job, buying a house, and starting to write books. Now that I think about it, not exactly nothing.

But now seems busier. I’d like to believe it’s because I really have reached some sort of activity peak. But I don’t think that’s the reason. I’ve always been capable of slacking off and now I can excuse it with this or that little ache or pain, a marriage I love, the feeling that maybe I’ve worked too hard all these post-thirtyish years and deserve a break. That’s all well and good, but if I take a couple days off, it’s hard to catch up.  And then I wonder if I’m getting old and would have had no problem catching up 25 years ago. And then I catch myself and say, not mentally, don’t you dare age mentally. And then I catch myself again and say, but you forgot entirely to do thus and such.

The more I do the more I want to do and the more I want to do the more I think maybe I should take a nap.


2 Responses

  1. Not to worry, Shelley. Just go take that nap, and when you wake up I promise you’ll feel much more optimistic about your life and yourself.

    • And I thought I was being funny! Guess not. I think confusion is universal and optimism is life.

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