Showing posts with label mortality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mortality. Show all posts

Monday, July 23, 2012

A regrouping weekend and a ‘meh’ day

Meh catEither I’m in love with your daughter or I have a newfound respect for life.

~~ Martin Blank, “Grosse Pointe Blank”

We just hunkered down here at Nutwood this weekend and didn’t go anywhere. I’m afraid we didn’t even go out Friday night to hear my buddy Jim’s band. I wrote and apologized to him, and he was cool with it. I just did not have it in me to be sociable. As is so often the case, Nutwood was our sanctuary, and we spent a quiet weekend here with each other. It was exactly what I needed, and I was grateful for the opportunity.

I had a dream over the weekend that I was talking to a friend (I think it was my former coworker Mary L.) about beginning to feel my mortality. It was couched in terms of the movies I watch and the books I read, and how I don’t want to watch or read just any old thing these days...I want to try to read worthwhile things, or watch movies that make me think, or mean something. That’s actually a pretty big tent for me, because even a movie that isn’t deep and philosophical has significance for me. (Remember, I consider “Star Trek” as envisioned by Gene Roddenberry to be a fantastic idea of what our future can be, if we manage to work together and put aside our differences.) I find enjoyment and meaning in many things. That’s not saying that there isn’t plenty to be said for watching something totally silly, like Monty Python or “I Love Lucy,” because there is also joy in laughter. I suppose it’s no wonder that I’m feeling the time crunch a little more lately, as I approach my 50th birthday. Chances are good that I’ve lived more of my life already than I will live going forward. That’s kind of sobering.

Seeing so many young people lose their lives on Friday only brought that lesson even closer. I’ve lived twice as long, or longer, than many of them. That is just so upsetting to me. No life filled with promise, no person who is loved and loves others, should have to be the victim of such a tragedy. But I know that is reality. That doesn’t mean anyone has to be complacent about it, let alone happy.

Today was another quiet day, as I continued to hunker down here on a hot and humid day. Although I left the TV off all day, I saw pictures of and stories about the shooter. I’ve read speculation that he did this because he didn’t have God in his life, and I’ve read speculation that he did it because he DID have God in his life, and was poisoned by religion. I think it’s very premature to start this sort of speculation, because he is not talking, and even if he were, the psychologist or psychiatrist evaluating him wouldn’t be able to speak about it. I think it’s obvious that there was some sort of mental illness there, but it’s infuriating to see people trying to figure out from a picture or video what is going on with him, or speculate as to his motivation. But I suppose that is to be expected after something like this.

I also read about the NCAA sanctions on Penn State, and as I have thought so many times as this story unfolded, I’m glad my Dad isn’t here to see this. Dad admired Joe Paterno, and it would have just torn him up to see this horrible inaction on Paterno’s part. It sounds like the NCAA did their best to help the student-athletes as they further their studies and sports careers, either at Penn State or elsewhere. I was happy to see that.


It wasn’t a total bad news kind of day. From President Obama, we heard the story of the young woman who saved her best friend’s life by applying pressure to her neck wound. We saw pictures of a human fence at the Aurora vigil in order to block the Westboro Baptist idiots. We saw Eagle Scouts returning their medals to the Boy Scouts in objection to their homophobic policy. We got some rain locally this morning, and it was a good day, although hot and humid enough that I didn’t have tons of energy. I think I’m just a bit more grateful today that I am still here to enjoy it.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Get the funk out

August birthday I know I haven't written much here lately. The journalistic Muse has not shat upon my head for a few days now. I've been reading quite a bit (finished another book club book, read a Stephen King novella, got caught up on magazines), and I've been under the weather with a bit of a cold. I think I'm starting to shake it off, and I'm glad about that.

I'm also finding myself in a bit of a funk. I think most of it is just that I'm not feeling well, but if I'm to be completely honestly with myself, I know that part of it is that I have a birthday coming up. It's odd, because birthdays have never bothered me before. Thirty? Who cares? I was on the top of my game, looking good, feeling good. Forty? Pretty much the same deal. The thing is, I'm not even turning 50 this year. I'll be 48. I've still got two years to go before I'm eligible for AARP and certain places consider me a senior citizen. (I hear that I can get free coffee at McDonald's, which would be dandy if I drank coffee or ever went to McDonald's.)

So why is this getting to me so much right now? I know that part of it is because I'm not feeling well. I don't know about you, but I don't feel my most attractive when I'm walking around snuffling and snorting, and doing the Dracula cough. I realize that there is much more to me than the outside. I've always had the brains to back up whatever people thought they saw in the outer me, and that's something I've been proud of and valued in myself. So I know I need to keep that in mind as I stew in my own little woe-is-me goo.

I'm starting to feel that I'm on the downside of the mortality rollercoaster. Remember that feeling when you were young, when you felt you had an eternity before you? So many things to do, so many adventures to experience, so many places to go. I haven't lost that feeling, but I'm now realizing that I don't have an eternity ahead of me. Maybe it started when my Dad passed away in March. My mind whispered to me, "You might not be next...but you're certainly in line. Oh yes, you are."

A couple of people I admire very much for their intellect and keen thinking are ill, one of them gravely. Christopher Hitchens has esophageal cancer, and he'll be the first to admit that his chances aren't good. He is handling his illness with grace and good humor, and he has impressed me even more with his willingness to speak openly and frankly about it. He's 61. That's seeming younger all the time to me. PZ Myers recently had a pretty big cardiac scare. Chest pains, but no heart attack. Some blockage, but not requiring open heart surgery. He's 53. That is only five years older than I'm going to be in a few days. GAH!

Summer birthday I guess it kind of took me by surprise, because I've gone along all this while with barely a nod to another year gone by. Events have transpired this year that made me deal with death in a very personal way, so I am intellectually able to understand why I am more acutely aware of my own mortality on this birthday. The logical, rational Beth can recognize it for what it is, and will work towards making at least a little sense from it. There is much to be said for life experience, for learning more about the world, other people, and yourself. That doesn't come without living a few years. The emotional Beth can't help but miss that feeling of paying your fare and hopping on for a ride that felt like it would never end. I'm feeling like I can see the end now, and I don't like it much. Frankly, it scares me, but not because of any fear of death...that is inevitable, and although I didn't think a lot about it in earlier years, I never truly had the feeling that I would live forever. That's just silly.

It scares me because I feel like there is still so much I want to do! So many movies to see, so many places to go, and books...so many books to read! I've got a bookshelf full of them, and I've still got 78 books to go on my book club list of 100. Seventy-eight. Of course, the Number One book is em-effin' Ulysses, so I'm not entirely sure why I'm so anxious to get to the end! HA!

Well, looky there. I believe I just went and made myself feel a little bit better. Had myself a good cry, contemplated mortality and junk, gazed into the abyss, wrote it out...and I'm okay.

And in case anyone is wondering, YES, I have PMS! There, are you happy?

I need funk!