So, this is a little late.
I usually like to share something on my birthday. A little something imploring those around me, those of whom I share a history or who were willing to share a bit of their lifetime with me to go out and live. Life is too short to spend it mired in the minutiae of day to day existence. Because things happen.
So my father just died.
And this year I spent my birthday helping my mother make the arrangements. Because she's mom and she needed another voice, another presence. I can't be easy losing someone with whom you'd spent nearly six decades. And I will have other birthdays.
But here, in these inevitable feelings, I realize how much I've let my life become that thing - that mired in the minutiae. I self describe myself as a writer, because there are stories and tales in my head that will take up residence like mental squatters if I don't write them down. But I haven't written anything more than a few paragraphs in months. The stories are still there I just don't tell them. I used to roam the city in search of new culinary delights and secret dens of music, fun of a sort, foods yet tasted and great reads on the dusty shelf of a used book store. And I still search online for new tastes and lively events. But now I find myself frustrated with traffic and just want to get back to the little place I rest my head.
What happened to me?
It's not age. Or is it? I recognize that I maybe to old to frequent where I used to go, but I have I lost the heart to venture out to find somewhere new? Yes, the crowd I used to socialize with has become the adults as as their children grew, but isn't the city is vast and teeming with people? Yes, change comes to man and his interests as we become vintage, but surely we should not chose to grow stagnant?
So here, in this moment, in these long unvoiced feelings, I ask those of you who would bother to read my rantings to take stock of where you are in life and realize that forever is promised to none of us. So take an hour or half a day and add value to your life. Paint something. A wall or a portrait. Go somewhere. The Maldives or the park. Hell, the end of the block. Eat something different. At that restaurant you always pass or from the grocery store aisle you avoid. Try an new twist on an old recipe. Do something. Change need not be drastic. Start small. Read an article you wouldn't or download that app and write a song. Do something that will bring you joy everyday. And keep it up.
I've found those stories that I paused a while back. I'm going to make some notes and finish this draft. I'm going to make some changes. Restart some of those projects that I've set aside in favor of falling down an internet rabbit hole of fanciful trivia in lieu in sleeping or being productive. Try to find myself again. Live.
I suggest you do the same.
