More like missed adventures. There's this idea that we all have to be doing everything all the time, and if you're not busy, you're doing nothing. And if you're doing nothing, then you are a waste of time, space, talent, etc. But, sometimes. Just sometimes. Sometimes you need to just chill the eff out. And that can be an adventure all on its own. It's the best when the unexpected happens and you're brought to this precipice where you didn't ever think you'd be there, but there you are. Standing on the edge of something great.
Coming from someone who rarely takes a break, that I'm even writing this should mean more to you, reader.
Taking a step back, not just to evaluate, or reflect, but just to be someone who doesn't have to be anywhere for a little while, isn't doing nothing. It is. But it isn't.
"Take a break occasionally. From it all. For perspective, sanity, life. You and what you bring to the stage will benefit from your actual life experience. My own life has been a series of wonderful hobbies."
-Mick Napier, in a newsletter that I liked when I read it. And a lot of other people liked it too.
Hip. Hip.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
We're all children
People are living too long. I say this a lot. It infuriates my mother, standing behind me, arms crossed commanding that I take back the notion that I want to kill my grandmother. I don't want to do this. Knock off grandma, that is. But, there's something really wrong with our world that we're so afraid of death, and we do anything we can to keep living. We keep people on life support. We take countless drugs. We write stories and create legacies in the hope that this something gold might stay.
Our obsession with death and it's counterpart life makes it impossible to just live. There's no sense of carefree, because we're so worried that we're not going to make the best of our situation. We're scared that what we decide to do with our time won't end up being worthy. And then, we end up doing nothing. Only to take stock as our quarter-life, mid-life and end of days crisis come. And they will come. I know, I've already had one. You probably have too. Every time I log onto Facebook I have a conniption. I compare endlessly, spending all together too many minutes reading my newsfeed. It gives the impression that someone is always doing something better or just something and I'm not.
In so many ways 25 now isn't what it was in 1978 when my parents got married. If you inspect it beneath the microscope, 25 is much older because everything is happening so much faster, while simultaneously it's also so young. We're children. As people live lengthy lives, shouldn't we have more time to establish ourselves? And why are there so many holds on when it's appropriate to be established? It's a long race. Don't want to finish too soon, now do we?
Our obsession with death and it's counterpart life makes it impossible to just live. There's no sense of carefree, because we're so worried that we're not going to make the best of our situation. We're scared that what we decide to do with our time won't end up being worthy. And then, we end up doing nothing. Only to take stock as our quarter-life, mid-life and end of days crisis come. And they will come. I know, I've already had one. You probably have too. Every time I log onto Facebook I have a conniption. I compare endlessly, spending all together too many minutes reading my newsfeed. It gives the impression that someone is always doing something better or just something and I'm not.
In so many ways 25 now isn't what it was in 1978 when my parents got married. If you inspect it beneath the microscope, 25 is much older because everything is happening so much faster, while simultaneously it's also so young. We're children. As people live lengthy lives, shouldn't we have more time to establish ourselves? And why are there so many holds on when it's appropriate to be established? It's a long race. Don't want to finish too soon, now do we?
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