Sunday, April 30, 2017
It is April 30th... Tomorrow May begins, and in three weeks time I will be finished with spring semester, 2017. The year has flown by quickly, which is nice because there's nothing sweeter than summer vacation. But I also feel as though many creative opportunities has blown by as well. I still have not learned how to manage my time well, at least not during the school year. Maybe I'll never learn.
As I mentioned last week, things have been busy, in a very good way. My eldest daughter has chosen her college. My youngest daughter is kicking butt and taking names in her two college courses (math and history). My wife is continuing to build her career as a health coach. And I'm doing what I do best -- talking to students about literature and creative writing. We've been working hard, I believe, and for the most part I think we've been having a good time.
My blogging projects (the daily themes) have temporarily fallen to the wayside, and it seems that whenever I work on my book the words come painfully slow. Yet, I am not beating myself up too much for the lack of productivity. In fact, I've been thinking about the Big Picture today.
When I was walking the dogs across the green belt near our home, the sublime beauty of the day, the profound pleasure of just being alive, suddenly overwhelmed me. If you already know me well then you probably know that this happens a lot for me. I have no shortage of "stop and smell the roses" moments. I've taught the book "Tuesdays with Morrie" too many times not to feel immensely grateful every single day.
But gratitude aside, I still find ways to grumble and feel self-pity, and it's almost always in regard to my writing career. I'm never satisfied.
But today, as I was walking the dogs I was thinking "I'm 45 years old. If I am lucky, half my life is over... And if my luck is average, then odds are I only have 30 good years left." Maybe I have a lot more, maybe I have a lot less. You might think that these thoughts are depressing, but they aren't...
Because this means I have 45 amazing years locked in the canister of time. There are many mistakes and regrets in those decades, but the vast majority of those years are filled with joy, love, and laughter. And I've told a few stories along the way, and a couple of them might outlive me.
That's a pretty darn good feeling. I hope it stays a while.