Headlong, exploring … sometimes cautiously, fits for me.
“When I was younger I could remember anything, whether it happened or not; but my faculties are decaying, now, & soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the latter. It is sad to go to pieces like this, but we all have to do it.” – Mark Twain
Milestones, record books, personal bests, getting there on time, or just getting there?
Examined life. Looking behind. And beyond me. Measuring anything, or everything, always in motion between birth and death, always approaching another month end, deadline, project, task – looking forward, to something. MWD (oilpatch term – measurement while drilling), no stops, measuring, without interrupting progress.
Fits for me.
Why do we waste energy getting past our past?
Seasons don’t use stopwatches. Or look back. They always arrive.
Take any trip. Run, ride or drive any race. Measurement. Starting blocks. And finish lines. Distance. And time. Every project – time, distance, measuring, measuring up. Most are not sprints. We don’t think in terms of stopwatches, starter pistols or finish line tapes.
Most obvious, annual measurements. Budgets, ‘how many days till Christmas?’, monthly bills, once-a-year calendar markings – anniversaries, deadlines, bane of existence: the common birthday.
There is no cure.
I often write about an examined life. But is that a measured life? Is counting cake candles any measurement of who we are, where we’ve been, what we’ve been up to or what mischief we might yet get into?
Milepost today, begins my 65th year (I’m 64 today), repertoire, memories – whether they happened or not!
So much needs doing, rushing to live this life …
Forever. And always.
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 10C/50F, mostly clear, chilly/damp from yesterday’s rains(abated for the next few days according to the forecast) my solitary walk seemed strange without a leash in hand (Gusta is at the kennel today – I had carpets cleaned yesterday, and going to Banff today – yikes, what a concept – taking my birthday off!), recognizing my walking has been so very localized – time for adventuring more methinks …
Funny how dogs know when the weather is going to get wanky. Gusta got that doggie premonition of a weather change and the only way she could share it with you was to be a bit off her normal disposition. We look to our two for the true weather forecast. Somehow they know when it is really going to storm and let us know through their uneasiness. Must be the electrical currents radiating in the atmosphere that we simply don't pick up. Maybe we should have doggie meteorologists. More interesting to watch probably. GW, Bon Wier, Tx.
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