I worry about being neglectful of the ones I love. I also worry about running out of gas, so to speak. I find my energy reserves aren't what they were twenty years ago and it takes longer to recover whenever I push a little too far. And when I'm tired I make mistakes.
This past weekend when Pet and I were playing, I pulled out a fresh candle and forgot to test it before I began using it. I discovered the hard way that it burns much hotter than the ones I had been using. If the mistake wasn't enough of an indication of how tired I was, it took everything in me not to burst into tears when I realized how careless I'd been. Pet was quick to let me know he was fine and that it was no big deal. I felt terrible and couldn't shake the feeling. I was on my guard for the rest of the session.
And that wasn't the only snafu last weekend. When I'm tired I can become quite fixated on things. This often causes my loved ones a great deal of irritation. I don't intend to be insensitive or annoying, but somehow manage to be exactly like that. Luckily, neither of these was too serious, but I've had moments in my life when pushing the envelope has resulted in me wrecking cars and my own body. I'm doing my best to avoid such dramatic consequences, but have to be on guard.
At the same time, I'm feeling the pressure of time. I turn 50 on my next birthday. That will make me five years older than my father was when he died. I remember listening to the things he planned to do when he retired, but of course he never came close to reaching retirement age. I've often wondered if he had to do it all over, would he have made different choices if he new his life was going to be over at 45.
Now, I don't waste my time lamenting the many years I punched in neglecting my passions, but when I look ahead, I am concerned that I may have taken time for granted. I've had a lot more pain in my joints these days, especially in my hips and knees. Play sessions have been downright painful at times, and not in a good way. I've also had some news from my doctor about an old cervical spine injury that could cause me significant grief in the future. I may have made it past 45, but it would be mistake for me to think I still have all the time in the world. In truth, none of knows how long we have. The only thing we can truly count on is right now.
The effect all of this has had on me is to spur me on. I go to sleep thinking about my next creation. I wake up thinking of how to connect with my loved ones. Even when I'm exhausted my mind is spinning, trying to figure out ways to fit more in each day. I stop to smell the lavender growing in my garden. I call back to the crows when they call out to me. I indulge my inner child every chance I get. I express my feelings more freely and make a conscious effort to be thankful for every joyous moment. My bucket list has never got as much attention as it has the last few years and if anything, I'm adding new items as fast as I'm crossing others off.
What is my goal? If I die tomorrow or forty years from now, I want to leave this plane of existence with as few regrets as possible, knowing I fit in as much passion and authenticity as possible. And if at all possible, I want to achieve all this without wrecking another car (or myself) in the process. :-)
What about you dear reader? How do you fit it all in?