The more I feel imperfect

The more I feel imperfect the more I feel alive…

Not true, I know I am imperfect. I feel alive. No causality there.

I celebrated my sixtieth (shit-SIXTIETH) fricking big word and I do not feel any different than when I was 20, 30, 40, or 50. The mirror begs to differ. I can see the changes from photographs of yore, but do I feel different? Not really. I know that I am more mellow. I know that I am no longer afraid. I know there is difficulty, tragedy, there are problems, there is fragility in life. I know there are consequences to actions. I know there is happiness and sorrow, good times and bad times, sunshine and stormy weather, moonlight and enveloping darkness. I see them all. I see the vivid colors in nature-the sky, the trees, the flowers, I see the vivid colors of life. I have seen the gray, the dark, the obsidian.

I still feel the same. I wake up every morning ready to move. Get my paper, drink my coffee, let the dog out, check my phone, think about what I want to accomplish in the day. I send a little prayer for my kids, my family, my friends, the world. I acknowledge that that the universe has blessed me. Gratitude is a daily thought. I focus on the immediate- what needs to be done now and why. I think about the week ahead. I listen to a comic on youtube on my phone. I listen to some music- that’s eclectic, could be Cat Stevens The Wind or Chainsmokers Closer or the Beatles Dehradun or a classical Indian bhajan.  I rise from the comfort of my outdoor room and start the business of life.

I wake myself up to the hardcore reality of a simple, mundane life. And I did that always-when single, when married, with kids and a relatively empty nest. I feel that I have more to do.

I wonder about my choices. That is a piece I want to write… the what if simulation. On another day. Did I do things right? I wonder what will happen in my day, my life, my world, my bubble. I read the news and try to see the big picture- the politics, the violence, the urgency of humanity. I think about the small moments in folks lives when they do kind things, I watch the little Tibetan boy blow bubbles and giggle  And I know all will be well,

I had different goals at different times. I spent  a lot of time going with the flow. I realize that in some essential sense, that was the right thing to do. One cannot micromanage life. Life takes you for a toss- it upends your thought processes. It thrusts burst water pipes, family health issues, or non starting cars at you and you have to snap back and do what works in the moment. The best laid plans can disintegrate. By the same token, big weddings just materialize and happen, with color and joy. We worry, we plan and life just happens.

 I never had a Type A orientation. I realized that was not me. I did not have a defined picture of what life could/should/ would be. And that is where I still am , a solitary traveller entwined in a self made world of connections, surrounded by what I love.