16 November 2012


With age has come the awareness that I experience certain time intervals differently from the awareness of my youth.  In childhood and early adulthood, hours, days, weeks, months, and years each had a prescribed duration.  Now, subjectively, it feels like an hour has passed, but the clock testifies that it is four hours later.  Days pass by in a blur, my mind's camera focused on the spot past which railroad cars are speeding by.  Is it Friday again, already?

Getting older is not for sissies.  Besides the physical infirmities, there are the memories of blunders one wishes it were possible to go back and correct.  Increasingly, I know before it happens what someone is going to say or do ~ simply because I've been here before.  Yet trying to explain my cumulative experience and perspective to a young person is whistling into the wind.  I was that way too, once.

All of which makes me more curious about what lies on the other side of death.  I don't have a religious or new age belief in heaven, an afterlife, or reincarnation.  Yet something in me senses that there is .... something.  When I find out, I'll be sure to let you know.

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