The Waiting and Such
I wonder, at times, if mine is a destiny of being perpetually unsettled. At no time, it seems, can I relax in the arms of the word’s true definition.
I sit on this porch. It is warm, but pleasant enough. I am in the cradle of the gloam—my absolute favorite time of day. The sky is battleship grey with hints of cobalt and lavender. The nightsounds show themselves early and it is grand—the feel of a hidden lake and rolling hills. There is a distant train whistle. And then it is gone. The music slides beneath my front door, dances to its own delicious beat at the legs of my chair. The house itself is quiet in there. My son is with his mother and the night is my own. I have a strong drink, a nice cigar, a newly-arrived New Yorker, a copy of Buk’s Factotum I am revisiting, a pen, a notebook. I’ve got it all. And yet, my Goddamn shoulders are wrenched up to my Goddamn ears. I am coiled as tight as a pair of size 32 blue jeans. And I feel like the ass that is about to bust those seams.
By most accounts, I am a lucky man. Though not completely devoid of the curse, I am not nearly inclined to sit around and wallow in self-pity as I was in my younger days. I am observant and am thus extremely thankful for what I have.
I spent years running hard—hitting the bars, meeting women, driving all night aimed at no real destination. I was lucky through all of it. And truth be told, I still have a bit of that in my blood, the yearning and the luck. I suppose it is not something of which you ever completely rid yourself. Nor would I wish to. But those days are largely behind me. I am physically settled. Nestled in a city I fell in love with seven years ago. I have the honor of watching her evolve and grow around me. She is an urban miracle, with new structures popping up daily; and still I have deer and fox and raccoons roaming the small lot on which I live. It is a delightful and inexplicable contradiction of nature that I embrace.
But emotionally I am unsettled as the day I graduated high school. And then college. It seems a betrayal to what my years would dictate. And I do not understand.
I’ve been told “your 40’s are when you truly find yourself.” That’s great. Especially, since I rapidly approach them. But if “the 50’s are the new 40’s,” as I have also been told, then Jesus Christ, what next? When do I find my way?
In good time, I suppose. In good time.
In the meantime, I’ll strive to enjoy the night. The sights. The sounds. The freedom. The drinks and gratifying cigars. The music.
The waiting.
And really, it’s all good.
It really is…It really is…It really is…
I sit on this porch. It is warm, but pleasant enough. I am in the cradle of the gloam—my absolute favorite time of day. The sky is battleship grey with hints of cobalt and lavender. The nightsounds show themselves early and it is grand—the feel of a hidden lake and rolling hills. There is a distant train whistle. And then it is gone. The music slides beneath my front door, dances to its own delicious beat at the legs of my chair. The house itself is quiet in there. My son is with his mother and the night is my own. I have a strong drink, a nice cigar, a newly-arrived New Yorker, a copy of Buk’s Factotum I am revisiting, a pen, a notebook. I’ve got it all. And yet, my Goddamn shoulders are wrenched up to my Goddamn ears. I am coiled as tight as a pair of size 32 blue jeans. And I feel like the ass that is about to bust those seams.
By most accounts, I am a lucky man. Though not completely devoid of the curse, I am not nearly inclined to sit around and wallow in self-pity as I was in my younger days. I am observant and am thus extremely thankful for what I have.
I spent years running hard—hitting the bars, meeting women, driving all night aimed at no real destination. I was lucky through all of it. And truth be told, I still have a bit of that in my blood, the yearning and the luck. I suppose it is not something of which you ever completely rid yourself. Nor would I wish to. But those days are largely behind me. I am physically settled. Nestled in a city I fell in love with seven years ago. I have the honor of watching her evolve and grow around me. She is an urban miracle, with new structures popping up daily; and still I have deer and fox and raccoons roaming the small lot on which I live. It is a delightful and inexplicable contradiction of nature that I embrace.
But emotionally I am unsettled as the day I graduated high school. And then college. It seems a betrayal to what my years would dictate. And I do not understand.
I’ve been told “your 40’s are when you truly find yourself.” That’s great. Especially, since I rapidly approach them. But if “the 50’s are the new 40’s,” as I have also been told, then Jesus Christ, what next? When do I find my way?
In good time, I suppose. In good time.
In the meantime, I’ll strive to enjoy the night. The sights. The sounds. The freedom. The drinks and gratifying cigars. The music.
The waiting.
And really, it’s all good.
It really is…It really is…It really is…
posted by Ryan at 11:55 PM
9 Comments:
Give the blade another spin, BR.
>>>The waiting<<<<
I'm kinda tired of waiting myself. At least you got cigars and drinks to go with it. Oh, and a porch.
I'm settled in many ways - have new peace, new purpose. I KNOW this. But now, my inner turmoil is different. And it takes me catching myself in the mirror to realize I'm the grownup.
Then I question... Am I more settled now than 10 years ago? Am I manic or just driven? Is there true peace? Satisfaction?
And I don't have a damn clue.
Also tired of the waiting, but most especially the assumption I don't appreciate what I have while I'm waiting. I DO! But I can't keep putting off the decades either. I'm not wired that way.
I'm hoping the restlessness fuels creativity, inventiveness and progress.
Gotta get off my ass, though.
Nobody else understands, so I gotta do it.
*I loved this.
Yes, Ryan.
Yes, I'm waiting too.
And I have no idea what I'm waiting on as I sit out looking from the view from my porch.
That settles it, I've gotta get a notebook with more than a five minute battery life so I can sit on my porch, too.
Tax-free weekend, look out!
Y'know, you're splendid.
Please post soon!
Hang in there...I'm in my 50's and am just starting to find my way :-)
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