Three long years ago I wrote The Search For Answers About Our Ourselves. I can’t say that I remember that day or exactly how I felt when I wrote it, but I can speculate. I can guess what must have been on my mind, not that it matters.
Because the thing is that as I sit at my keyboard I still feel like a fool. I still feel like a teenager who is on the cusp of finding those answers he seeks. That one elusive thing that would make sense of the world is just beyond my grasp. I can almost taste it, but not quite.
I am a tortured soul. Restless and second guessing the decisions I have made and continue to make. Don’t get me wrong, I am not stuck in self-pity. I am who I am and the decisions I have made are mine. Some of them have been very wise and some not so smart. I take responsibility for them.
Some of my friends are very good at just going along with life. They just accept what they are given and they’re happy, or so they appear to me. I am not as good about that. I feel deeply. When I am happy I am quite happy and when I am not, well life can seem pretty dismal.
Failure is something that I have grown familiar with. There are things that I have failed at. I am good at many things, perhaps great at some and others a failure.
In spite of it all I don’t feel like a failure. Maybe it is a mind game, but I still believe that a failure is someone who doesn’t get back up when they get knocked down. That is one thing that I have going for me. I don’t give up easily. I am not always smart enough to recognize that I am losing, but then again that determination is sometimes why I succeed.
Life has its moments. When I look back at the last five years there is a lot to look at. Some of it is very unpleasant. I have been to so many funerals and said goodbye to so many people. Financially it has been up and down and up and down. That is great if you are on a carousel, fabulous if you are describing sex, but not so much fun when you are taking care of a family.
If you are wondering why I am babbling like this, well it is safe to say that I got punched in the mouth today. Not literally, but that is how I feel. So I am here at the keyboard venting. In a few minutes the sad guy will be replaced by the man with the burning anger and I’ll take advantage of that.
I’ll use that energy to take care of something. I’ll channel it and we’ll see it serve me instead of me serve it. And that is the difference between being 20 and almost 40. Twenty years ago it would have been very hard not to run and scream.
Now I scream in cyberspace. It really works out well. My throat doesn’t hurt. The neighbors don’t complain and I can’t think of a third reason so I’ll end this post here.