I’ve been thinking a lot about life lately. Not exactly the “Why am I here?” or “What’s it all about, Alfie?” kind of soul-dredging thoughts.
More like the “How can I fully engage in living while I’m passing through this life?” kind of practical fare that sneaks into my brain betwixt rising at 6 am, fixing the same breakfast I’ve had every day for the last decade, doing my job, tending to my chores, walking my dog, waving to my husband as we pass going in opposite directions, and making sure everyone’s fed at night.
My tendency to float through my days aloof and disengaged is what bothers me. Why don’t I feel more? Why do I so often just go through the motions?
I suppose the arrival of my first grandson is the spark behind this flame, and that’s likely something everyone goes though when they hold a brand new life in their arms. A fresh body and spirit just embarking on the fantastic journey that is this life. So pure and unscathed. So real. So into every picture on the wall I’ve passed a thousand times unnoticed. So mesmerized with the magic of a tree branch. So red-faced as he screeches his little punkin head off.
Not yet schooled that the best way to avoid feeling pain is to turn the spigot off.
I hope and pray that he doesn’t make it to age 60 and stare in the mirror one day thinking, “Where did the time go? What did I do with all those decades that were a gift from above?”
The stages of life are simple, really:
There seems to be no getting around the fact that I’m lurking in the cracks between the last two. At least externally. Internally, I’m smack dab in the middle somewhere and sometimes inch closer to the top.
I guess that’s why I write humor books. The irony of Dorian Gray isn’t lost on me. The prune is still plum-y beneath the wrinkles. It’s when the wrinkles permeate the core that the soul begins to shrivel.
Okay, enough deep thinking for me. That’s more than my quota.
But I will set a goal: My goal is to be fully present in mind, spirit and senses for the rest of this day. Like a baby does. I will see, touch, smell, hear, feel and enjoy each activity I undertake. Like it’s the first time. Yep, that’s what I’ll do.
Now I’m off to explore my world through the eyes of Baby Blaine. Oh, look. The fresh chocolate smear on my white capris are evidence that I’ve got a good start putting everything not nailed down in my mouth.