An Anchor Would Be Nice
It’s been an interesting couple of weeks, and I’m encouraged by the way this writing I’ve done lately has been evolving, certainly beyond my expectations.
Last week I submitted and published my first article over at the American Daily Herald, and another topic fell into my lap at just about the same time, one I didn’t feel right ignoring. Happily, this article was accepted as well, and it’s been published and is available now if you’d care to have a look. Processing all the data while researching it was draining, but I found myself genuinely enjoying the act of writing a more disciplined piece as much as I do putting together a blog entry. How cool.
I find myself wondering just how far I can go writing opinion and commentary on a regular basis. Our world, especially over the past few years is what our military friends would call a ‘target rich environment,’ to be sure, I just wonder how my fatigue and diminished multitasking skills will mesh with the task. We shall see.
It doesn’t help that the gorgeous fall weather is distracting me. I catch myself spending a lot of time thinking about the beauty of the season and its effect on me. Every year I learn a bit more about autumn, not from an academic point of view, but in the visceral feelings I notice most at this time of year. I’ve talked about it before, the wistful feeling in the air that’s unique at this time, and as usual it’s more complex than I’m able to describe properly. I might begin to get close by saying that in autumn for me the heat of summer fades differently than the chill of winter departs in spring.
Spring, being a young season and therefore a bit on the stupid side, is more brash and confident in the way it unfolds than is autumn. I think that last of the summer’s warmth doesn’t really last very long, but may seem to because it’s somehow more placid; like people, it’s got experience and some perhaps even wisdom with some age and maturity to rely on. It’s in no hurry to move on to make way for winter, a thing that appeals to me, though I’m undecided as to whether I like that sense of languorous ease in the air better or the fact that I take the time to recognize it. People so often refuse to think about or see things beyond the length of their noses, and I suspect an awful lot of them simply don’t notice something that’s always been important to me. This is like appreciating a secret that’s in plain view…people could enjoy it as much as I do, all they’d need do is allow themselves to. That’s a pretty fair idea to me, and goes back to what I’ve already written about how important creative and independent thinking are in simply being able to enjoy life…you can’t appreciate something if you’re unaware of its existence.
I’m only human, so I can’t say I see the days passing with any degree of acceptance of or resignation to my limited situation. I enjoy each with an almost rebellious fierceness, and I’m reluctant to let go of any time I can be conscious and awake to relish it. Days like these aren’t meant to be spent inside or close to the house. Dining al fresco at a restaurant, flying my models at a park, or even picking up a few things at the store late in the day to bask in that fall feeling of an early dusk as the sun sets earlier…those are the ways to enjoy autumn weather. You sip it, not swill it, savor it, not merely taste it. I know that we’ll get my Honda converted in time for me to do this, but I confess it’s tough waiting. Worse than that is knowing that those days, once past, stay past, all because of the lack of a glorified appliance!
I have noticed something about the way time is passing for me that I find rather disturbing. It moves along faster than it used to. I know, I know, for me and everyone else out of their forties. I just have a hunch that this isn’t my imagination working overtime…I think it’s because once you become essentially housebound, not only are the days painfully similar, so is the daily routine, and any well entrenched routine automatically goes faster as time goes by. There’s something else apart from that, too: not long ago I remarked that becoming disabled was analogous to stepping from a merry-go-round, but it’s even more like a boat that’s loosed and takes off, moving swiftly along in a river’s current…it’s just that from my perspective, it’s the world rushing away. The water may be dead calm but I know I’m moving, though the illusion’s convincing.
As the title says, I need an anchor to keep world from rushing away quite so fast. Ultimately, nothing will be as effective in that role but getting my Element modified. It won’t retrieve my old life back, I am very clear on that, but it will do, without a doubt. As with an anchor, it won’t allow me to move upstream again, but will surely slow my movement downstream. I already know part of what’s waiting for me:further disability, pain and frustration to name a few. It’s dimmer there and the colors of the world somehow seem muted to my eyes from my place here. I hope you’ll excuse me for not being in much of a hurry to reach that destination.
Since I’m constrained for at least the time being from the kind of involvement with the world at large I need…and I’m confident I’ll eventually attain…I try to keep as much of the world here with me as I can. My computer sims, my hobbies and of course writing all help with that, and I hope this new venture of writing online columns will be extra effective. They’re my way of casting weighted lines in the river that’s carrying me along in hopes they’ll snag on something ans slow my headlong plunge…even a little bit. I like to think I have something in common with the personification of autumn I mentioned: I prefer to take my time in getting anywhere.