Day off today, Spring feels like it
might finally be around the corner, fingers crossed. Makes me notice
things around the house that need to be cleaned and/or thrown out
(probably subconscious preparation for spring cleaning).
It makes me wonder. Is that why we
clean things? To scrape away the evidence of time's passing around
us? To restore our little world to a state that appears new? Is
that why we dust and scrub and paint over and replace the components
of our microcosms? Are we really so desperate to deny the
undeniable?
Everything changes, whether we want it
to or not. I suppose that's the trade off isn't it? We lose the things
we want but also the things we don't want. Really the best we can
ever hope for is that the loss of both comes in somewhat equal
measure. Why does it always seem that the harder you try to hold on
the easier it all slips away?
The future feels too close these days.
Or perhaps, more to the point, I feel unready for it. There's still
so much to do. Within and without. Just over the horizon is the
place I've been traveling to. It's still a ways off, and it will
take some time yet to get there, but it's closer than it has ever
been. It fills me with joy and dread. What if I'm not ready when I
arrive? I can't stop, mustn't stop, I don't dare. Yet I still feel
so unprepared and I know I can't afford to be.
All this makes me almost painfully
aware of the passage of time. How much has already passed. How much
has yet to pass. I can feel it as a physical thing, not just flowing
around me, but flowing out of me, as if there were a finite amount
of time stored within me and each passing instant bleeds more of it
away. Bleeding time. We're all just wounded animals bleeding time.
J.S.C.
4-12-2020
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