It just occurred to me today …
If this blog is supposed to go on until 27 July 2055 (barring a global extinction event) then …
… what will happen of major events in my own life until that day?
Of course, I’ve thought about that from time to time, especially now that Jay is on the way.
Like, when do I get another job?
A major development with my company?
When do I go to Peru again?
When will I write a book, if ever?
When will a family-member die the next time?
When will I die?
Of course, those those have been there, sometimes more insistent than others.
But … it’s like until now they’ve been more stray, like spindrift coming and going.
In general, though, when I looked across the ocean of my life, it just looked like … something stable … unchanging.
At least in my imagination.
It seems as if there has been a subtle shift now that I’ve decided to do The Blog for 14012 days or 39-ish years.
In other words, a Very Long Time – probably most of the rest of my life.
The change feels like … my Rest Life has become more fixed. Including with the changes that will come.
It’s like the whirls of spindrift have solidified more.
Like: The thoughts about the big things – good and bad – that would or could happen … they have now become more clear and unchanging. Like patterns in the surface of the ocean.
Before the ocean was just one big plain view for me.
Or not a view a all … I mean, for so many years I’ve seldom looked toward the horizon with more than a cursory glance. The horizon of my life …
I’ve been busy in the now. In one place. Just thinking more than a year or two ahead was very difficult … there was always something more important Right Now I had to do.
Funny … because I did have future goals that controlled me in the present. I did have future stuff that held me hostage.
Like … I have to get that job, in some unspecified time from now. Or find the perfect love (back before I met Char).
And until I find these – job, love, fame, dream project, etc. … until that I can’t be happy.
It’s strange because those futures were there, and held me hostage, but they were ghost-like even so. I never stopped to look too closely at them.
I said to myself: These futures are there. I want them to be real now. And then I look down at my feet and look at how fast I’m running to get there.
And I don’t enjoy a thing because I’m running so fast, and I’m not even thinking about if it’s the right direction.
That’s a crisis where some future holds you hostage in a present where you try to realize it, without considering if it is a good future for you to strive for.
The alternative is to have a calm peace-filled view of your future – of the horizon of your life.
Like sitting down at the beach and looking at the ocean for an afternoon, trying to sense it all, both the shore where you are and what is on the horizon.
The Blog has helped me do that.
Now, I’m looking at the entire way from here and until the horizon.
And more and more it feels like a whole, filled with meaning, even if I can still only imagine it.
It’s The Blog.
I know it is the spindrift of my life, solidified, in one big ocean.
I’m just able to make it solid, one wave at a time. One day at a time … and only parts of it, small particles.
But nevertheless, they will form a mighty ocean view at some point. 39 years from now.
And I know there will be maelstroms and 30-feet high waves and sneaky undercurrents.
At some point my parents will die, if things go as they usually do.
At some point something will go wrong with my business, a crisis. It might survive. Or not.
At some point I will be very ill again.
And so on.
I know all these whirls and flowers of spindrift are going to be real and solid and there for all to see, because I have decided to pick as many as I can and describe them.
Tell the story of spindrift to the world.
So each person can see a reflection of their own …
Hopefully strength from those currents I plan to follow that will help me out from rough waters and further on.
But that’s not the point here. The point is that my future just got more solid, more real, with all its ups and downs.
Because I decided to chronicle it.
Is that a good thing? For me, personally?
I’m not sure.
But it feels … like it’s going to be more meaningful simply because I weave it into some artifact for you to see after I am gone. Weave with my words …
After all, isn’t that what we all long for, to be part of a story that has meaning?
Well, the first step, I suppose, is to try to actually tell that story and not just let your life be a series of loosely connected events in your mind.
With little or no horizon to view … and take heart from, by the simple fact that it looks beautiful when you try to see it all at once: