Tag: Life
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The respect that makes calamity of so long life
Now that I am old -or indeed because I am old- it sometimes strikes me that there are many important personal questions yet to be answered -even to be asked, for that matter. I suppose some might think it strange that I’ve already wasted so many years placing other lesser queries at the front of the…
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If Music be the food of Love
Things seem to have changed from when I was young -drifted away I think. I’m not sure if it is an Age thing, or simply a perspective shift -an adaptation to altered circumstances. If something changes slowly enough it’s often difficult to notice, difficult even, to realize that it no longer occupies its former central…
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The powers that be
When, if infrequently, I stop to think about things, it is apparent to me that most of us possess rather special powers: we can often predict how things might affect each other before they actually do. I mean how do I know that I may fall prey to the same virus as my friend if…
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I am the Tumbleweed
I am the tumbleweed; I realized it I when I saw the lonely little thing blowing across the dawn sand in Gisborne. Its arms, for all the good they did, were extended like an inquisitive octopus feeling for its way; not lost, exactly, but indifferent about where it ended up. Anywhere is as good as…
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Living with the Phoenix
There are two sides to boredom, I think: one is looking for new things to do -new challenges; the other is succumbing to indolence and, because it takes less effort, do something you’ve done a hundred times before, hoping that maybe -just maybe- something new will arise. It’s Phoenix-thinking: believing something exciting will emerge even…
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Life in the endgame
I guess I’m up for it; I mean things have been working out for me for too long on this trip, and change is always therapeutic, eh? You can’t live forever in a candy store without getting some cavities along the way, I suppose. I was looking forward to this part of the trip at…
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Tis in my memory locked
For some time now, I’ve wondered what makes some places feel like they are a part of me -or more likely, that I am a part of them… And why are some things only superficially appealing, in spite of their evident attempts to mimic authenticity? I suppose we all have different needs, so perhaps generic…
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Aye, there’s the rub
When I was very young, my older brother played in a minor role in his high school’s production of Brigadoon, a musical written in the 1940ies. He made it sound like a real but faraway place he hoped to visit one day. He was older than me, so I believed him, but I wondered what…
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Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
I was married once; it was okay; I might even describe it as fulfilling at times -although mostly the filling full of rooms, and often with furniture. Or rugs. Or appliances. Or, well, gadgets: time-savers. But now that I’m retired, Time is only a nuisance -something I am destined to have instead of money; something…
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