This afternoon, I find myself sitting at the pass-thru bar at the lake house ~ not our lake house, but the lake house of the family of dear and generous friends of ours, who routinely invite us to tag along for a couple of vacations each year, thereby enabling us to pretend we are the type of people who have fabulous lakefront property when, in fact, what we have are fabulous friends ~ while everyone else (and that means 11 of the 12 of us still here) is engaged in some game or book, or other entertainment.
(Was that whole first paragraph a single sentence? Wow! Do I get a “Giant, Convoluted Sentence” Award for that? Is it shiny?!)
I have done my PT, read my book (kindle, because now I am finally beginning to catch up with the times…you know, the times that were several years ago, because I catch up slowly), bathed luxuriously (and almost uninterrupted), practiced my banjo, made breakfast and started dinner, gone for a walk with my firstborn, and exhausted every other solitary pastime I can currently fathom.
So, now, I am thinking.
It’s a thing I do. You know, when I have run out of other things to do. I think, sometimes, I should try to do it more often; but then I usually decide I am “overthinking” things, and go back to my usual devil-may-care lifestyle. (And, f you believe that, I’ve got some waterfront property in Florida that might interest you. In truth, there is probably not enough Ativan in the world to counteract some of the thinking I do.) The truth is, I think. Boy, do I think. Sometimes, I think I think more than I act. And so, I start to think I should plan things, do things, be PRODUCTIVE.
Isn’t that how we’re supposed to be? Go-getting, gung-ho, productive autobots. Because we are defined by what we produce, aren’t we? And yet, I seem to get all wrapped up in how I feel, and what I think, and I think that’s where my real substance is: all in my head. So, then, what mark will I leave on the world? Maybe these young humans I’ve spawned? Maybe my students of yore? Maybe just that quiche I made this morning. Because I made something, and people ate it, and it sustained them, and a little part of something I made ~ something I created ~ became a part of someone else, fueling all of their endeavours. So, maybe, that’s the way I work. Maybe that’s how I create. That’s my contribution to the world.
Often, when I find myself thinking, I start getting all of these grand plans of things I want to do, or make, or be; and then I turn around, and I’m still just sitting here, thinking about it.
As the new year approaches, I think, “Maybe this will be the year.” Maybe I’ll do something truly, deeply meaningful this year. And then, I think, “Eh.”
Really. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.
Because, see, enacting all my plans and schemes seems so complicated, as compared to just sitting here at the pass-thru bar, thinking about them.
Today, I found myself saying to a kid, “If wishes were horses…” I say that. You know it, right? “If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride!” They say that (I say that) like it’s a preposterous thought. Beggars? Ride? The hell, you say! But why? Why is it so hard to believe that beggars should ride? Should beggars just shrug, and remain beggars? That’s not how the world works, is it? Give up on your dreams, kids ~ there’s no point in deluding yourselves! I mean, seriously: WHAT THAT HELL? Why do I say this? Do I believe it? Really? Fuck that.
Yeah, I said that. And I meant it, too. Not the wishes thing. The “fuck” thing. Sorry. Totally meant that. Because the thing is, wishes, dreams, aspirations, they are the things that keep us moving forward, aren’t they? They keep us striving for something beyond what we have, beyond what we are. And so, this year ~ THIS year! ~ Well, couldn’t it be the one in which all of us beggars finally ride?
See, this is why I shouldn’t be left on my own for long. You know what started all this thinking? You know why we’re here? (Brace yourselves.) It was Pinterest. Complicated braided hairstyles on Pinterest. Next thing I know, I’m thinking about growing out my hair, and how great it will be to have the opportunity to DO ALL THESE THINGS with my glorious, long, magnificent hair! Except that my hair drives me insane. There’s just so much of it. And let’s be realistic: what I “do” with it is wash it, brush it, stick it in a bun. Because, again: So. Much. Hair. I don;t know. Maybe I will grow my hair, and maybe I won’t. These are, obviously, important life choices.
The thing is, all that thinking about hair got me to thinking about other stuff.
So, now, I’m thinking again. And thinking almost always leads me to trying to do things. And doing things is HARD.
But it’s too late, now. I’ve already started thinking again.
Bring it on 2016.
I can take you.