Sleep begs me to come to her. I sit in idle stillness within the darkness, tempering the steel within me and harboring no desire to find the weakness that once defined me. Ah, that stillness. That wonderful place to you can’t visit, that awesome area my soul has carved from weathered wood never to be returned to its former repose. Thus I go, rising up from my pillow, to live another dream.
I feel the fire burning within me. Like a raging beast whose form I cannot define, something growls where the silence once was. Who am I to question this Divine gift? Who am I to doubt the sanctity of the truth I feel burning through my veins? It is they who have given me doubt, and it is me who has taken that image and burned it beyond much recognition. I need nothing from you, save the memory of how far this journey has taken me.
I hear her calling again. My eyes grow heavy in her song, but there’s something I need to say. I’m not sure why. I never am. Yet like a puppet draw to the stage the strings are pulled, and I dance some scene from play my Soul demands of me. Sometimes I am the jester, sometimes I am the King. I am, however, always me. I am, forever, the writer of this story. I am, eternally, the one who sends this to the stars.
There is never any certainty in the words I write. I swear to you I am nothing but a translator, feeling something as it courses through me and onto something you can read. This will not be edited, and I will not change a thing. As it is sent, so shall it be delivered. Whatever comes of me in the sweet arms of my dreams, nothing will change what has been written. Nothing will change what will be.
Tomorrow, July 14, will be 51 years old. I remember a time when 30 seemed old. Then 40 was the age I dreaded. Now, those way-points have come and gone. I am what they call “middle-aged” I think, although I’m not sure I feel it. Sure, the joints ache a bit, and the hair looks grayer, but the spirit of youth still flows within me. 60 year olds no longer look old to me, and I often sit wondering what the next 9 years will bring. I wonder if those who have achieved that milestone wondered the same thing at my age, and what they accomplished between that moment and this one. I can only say I have so much more I want to do, and can only pray to have the time left to get it all in.
“And the young, they can lose hope cuz they can’t see beyond today, the wisdom the old can’t give away…” ~Pearl Jam, Love Boat Captain.
I am still not sure which I am, they young who can lose hope or the old who can’t give wisdom away. Sometimes I feel like a little of each, but mostly the latter. We live our lives to, hopefully, gain a bit of wisdom to share with those who could benefit from it. Usually there are no takers, and rightfully so. We all learn from the scars we inflict on ourselves, and three is no one worthy of saving us save the one we see when we look in the mirror.
Well, sleep’s call is getting much louder, and I believe it’s time to answer her call. She gets mighty upset when I ignore her, and what she offers I rarely can turn away. Time to dream. Time to fly with the eagles and rise like the wind. Time to make love under a sultry moon and whistle as the wolves howl their ancient songs. When I wake, assuming I do, I will achieved something I have never achieved in my life. I will awaken as a 51-year-old man.
Hopefully from there I’ll have 364 more new beginnings before hitting another milestone. I do plan to absorb each moment as it comes, laughing and playing my way to the grave one day. It truly is a happy birthday, spent in solitude and with those I love. I am truly blessed.
Peace.