I want to get up and go to work. I want to do what I do. My job isn’t a glamorous one. Certainly not one I dreamed of when I was in college, or ever for that matter. I doubt there are many, if any, that say “boy that’s what I want to do when I grow up.” The job isn’t always the greatest experience but many times, maybe more than most, I find myself challenged, learning something new, being stretched in some small capacity. It’s exciting, invigorating, How could I be 60? I must still be 45.
Every now and then I have to tell someone my birth date and it just catches my breath to say 1959. How is that possible? That’s old. I am not. Maybe all that has changed is my perception of what 60 is. When I was young, 60 was old, far from your prime physically, maybe a little out of touch with current trends or technology. Today I see 60 as experienced, comfortable, confident, less afraid about the small stuff, and maybe more aware of the big stuff.
To celebrate our birthdays, Jeff and I are planning to go skiing today. I like to ski. No, I love to ski. I didn’t learn to ski until I was 40 but when I did I was hooked. I skied every chance I could and every year my skiing got better and I became more comfortable and confident on steeper and steeper terrain. I am a solid intermediate skier. Not the best or the fastest but I am ok.
For the first time, I am not that excited about skiing. What if I can’t see well. I know I will have to ski slower than before. I think I know why I am not excited. It isn’t my fear of being hurt. It’s because I am suddenly aware, that my skiing will only get worse. Right now, I am the best skier I will ever be for the rest of my life, and I am just ok. What’s the point. Better to do something else today maybe.
I have a Harley Davidson Ultra Limited parked in my garage. An amazing bike that I love to ride. Marilyn and I have had some amazing times to together on that bike. It’s for sale. I don’t ride. I can’t or at least I shouldn’t.
Add to the list that I will never again fly an airplane, a passion that I was so fortunate to explore for a number of years.
Jeff asked me the last night, “Have you ever tried dictation when you write? It might help you.” It can be frustrating for me at times trying to find the cursor on the screen or, if I look down at the keyboard for a moment, I am an average typist at best, and then look back at the screen I occasionally get lost. Dictation is an intriguing idea that would help with the physical act of writing.
I can’t do it. Not yet. I have only two rules that I try to stick to when I write. The first is, I write about me. My thoughts, emotions, my experiences. I try hard not to write about others. What can I really know about someone else and besides, my goal is to learn about me.
The second is the hard part. What I write has to be as authentic and as truthful as I know how to be. What I write may not be the truth, but it is what I believe with all my heart. And sometimes, the truth about me isn’t comfortable. So no, I can’t dictate. Not yet. The thought of hearing my words, or worse, someone else hearing them is just too scary. I need to write them quietly, privately, safely if I have any hope of authenticity.
It sounds so silly to write that. I am not going very deep at all in what I write. This is mostly surface stuff. Without question, there is more there. Like an iceberg, you can only see so much. I want to go there and learn more about the iceberg but the thought of it scares me and keeps me from going too deep. What if I don’t like what I see? It is safer to stay on the surface.
But there is so much to learn below.
Maybe I need to learn how to use dictation so I never get to the point where I say I used to wonder what is below the surface.
And maybe it is time to accept that I used to be a pretty decent skier. I used to be very comfortable handling a fully loaded 1,000-pound motorcycle on some treacherous back roads. And I used to be able to fly a plane.
I don’t think that means the best is behind me. Perhaps it is just below.
Let me take a look.
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