A Portrait of the Boy on an Early Morning in Late Spring . . .
Been thinkin' a lot. About a lot of things. About the past and the present and the future. About words unsaid, deeds undone, life unlived. About missed opportunities and second chances. About sacrifice and redemption. All the little things that come to mind on a Sunday night.
Not been writing a lot. Now here. Not elsewhere. Haven't even been reading much. Not here. Not elsewhere. Don't know what's wrong with me. Haven't been talking much on the phone. Haven't been talk that much online. Maybe more of that. It's easier. And I can just disappear whenever I feel like it. Show my face on cam or change my nick and be someone else. And I am really feeling like being someone else lately.
My Daddy used to say, "Son. Sooner or later you'll have to make up your mind. Either you can live a life of happiness or live a life of meaning. But never both."
For years, I never understood what he meant. Slowly, over the years of learning and yearning, of wanting and waiting and aiming and guessing. Slowly I came to understand that to live a life of happiness, one had to live as much as possible in the moment. Enjoying every instant for what it is. Letting it go, as soon as it is gone. And enjoying the next. It is a life of uniquely disjointed moments drenched in the flowing river of joy and sorrow.
To live a life of meaning, we must always be examining. We must be reliving our past, worrying our present and fretting over our future. Constantly refining ourselves. Never just experiencing our experience, but fitting it into the larger puzzle of greater meaning. Trying to aim our future to apply some power to some effect, like somekind of clockwork lever trying to pushme pullyou the universe.
Hobson's choice, if youi ask me. But then again you didn't.
Not been writing a lot. Now here. Not elsewhere. Haven't even been reading much. Not here. Not elsewhere. Don't know what's wrong with me. Haven't been talking much on the phone. Haven't been talk that much online. Maybe more of that. It's easier. And I can just disappear whenever I feel like it. Show my face on cam or change my nick and be someone else. And I am really feeling like being someone else lately.
My Daddy used to say, "Son. Sooner or later you'll have to make up your mind. Either you can live a life of happiness or live a life of meaning. But never both."
For years, I never understood what he meant. Slowly, over the years of learning and yearning, of wanting and waiting and aiming and guessing. Slowly I came to understand that to live a life of happiness, one had to live as much as possible in the moment. Enjoying every instant for what it is. Letting it go, as soon as it is gone. And enjoying the next. It is a life of uniquely disjointed moments drenched in the flowing river of joy and sorrow.
To live a life of meaning, we must always be examining. We must be reliving our past, worrying our present and fretting over our future. Constantly refining ourselves. Never just experiencing our experience, but fitting it into the larger puzzle of greater meaning. Trying to aim our future to apply some power to some effect, like somekind of clockwork lever trying to pushme pullyou the universe.
Hobson's choice, if youi ask me. But then again you didn't.