Cleaning away outstanding ‘resting’ on my table items – trash it, finish it, commit to where it fits in future plans, clear deck, clear path, ready for ‘play day birthday’ tomorrow. Then, filling right side of this page begins. No time to waste. To get things done well, quickly, to get more done. I’ll start with a blank page – it won’t be blank for long. You see, I’ve drawn this line, down the centre of life.
One flipchart page.
This divide is emotional, creational.
Left side: list things done, ‘proud of’, representing ‘body of work’. List six and half decades, what of note has happened before. Counting only things I chose. I’ll not record big pains, big mistakes, big losses – unless they taught me valuable lessons. Many did. Don’t count the time not used as well as I might have (hesitating to mouth ‘wasted’), recognizing what I’ve done that is worthy of remembering, part of recognizing how much, or little, time was a factor.
Right side: what unfolds after today which meets same criteria. Blank page I have no intention of leaving blank. Space to fill with daring and dew and do-do and do do do.
Cannot imagine ‘after 65’ being less important, slowed or allowed to atrophy. DO … ‘wish list’, new things, and finishing those new things. I’ll pull a few back-burner items into the fire, things I’ve parked there too long. There is clearly no time to waste and there is all that white space to fill.
Life, I’m told, picks up speed now.
Must fit more life into less time …
On this side
Times past, times had, times sad, times glad but mostly just the great memories of good times (not should times or wish-i-had-done times), successes – events, people and projects worth remembering, proud moments and satisfaction, times of making some difference in the world, doing things for others and leaving some kind of change, some evidence MARK was here
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk with Gusta: 13C/55F, overcast, sprinkling – Gusta visiting mosquito swarms where the tall grass was cut yesterday, two lap dog encounters – one barked, one yapped – and around familiar territory we wandered …