I read a stimulating post today at Kate’s Blog about the intensity she felt in her youth and about having to find it again now, or remember to go there. I’m paraphrasing (and not a writer like she) so you really should go hear it for yourself. It was very moving, and well-written, and involves the Tango—reason enough to go there.
How often do we remember what we felt like as children when every day felt like the only day? Tomorrow was too far away to hold our interest very long. Yesterday was forgotten quickly. It’s the only time I remember being in the NOW. Except that I wasn’t really. I distinctly remember always waiting for something. To break the monotony. To arrive, long-awaited. The next age, 12 not 11. The next grade, Jr High not Elementary! Awesome feeling, and once arrived, did I enjoy it? It’s not easy to remember, I’ve blocked a lot of my younger years. And according to my last MRI, I’ve lost some of my brain’s real estate to aging. Atrophy, ugh. I’ll tell you what doesn’t shrink as I age…the waiting. I’m still waiting.
- Yes, I’m waiting for spring.
- I’m waiting for summer.
- I’m waiting for our vacation to be planned and afforded.
- I’m waiting to see if my blog will ever get more than 2 comments.
- After waiting nine months to see my granddaughter, I’m now waiting to see her in person (ohh, a sweet longing).
- And I’m waiting now to see if I get juried into the Museum show. (I’ll find out on Friday, Jan. 30. Accepted pieces will be announced, anonymously, by numbers they assigned us. Reminds me of waiting to see if I passed my GRE! I think our NAMES were posted, not sure. But I passed, just passed. All those art classes must have replaced whatever I had learned in general ed? What a blow to my ego! And it will be another blow to my ego if I don’t get juried into the show and I end up feeling like 3 years of doing “my real work” was just occupational therapy.)
But beyond that, I am waiting to see what I “can’t wait for” next in life. I haven’t found it yet. What could be as exciting as awaiting holidays that made my house joyous instead of tense, tap dancing class, turning 12, first dance party, starting Jr High, 8th grade graduation, first day of college, the birth of 2 daughters, my first real job, my second marriage or quitting the cubicle to do “my real work”?
I hope something jumps out soon because right now I’m reduced to waiting for the new season of Life on Mars and Dr. Who. Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Who is a true pleasure (oh, the places we’ll go!). It’s just that I’m not getting any younger, and living vicariously isn’t going to cut it much longer.
MosaicMoods 
May I humbly (and very tongue-in-cheekily) suggest looking forward to my book?
My son is 21 months old and exists totally in the moment. He is old enough now to anticipate if we converse about something planned for later in the day (at least I assume so as he talks about it then until it happens), but emotionally he is still right here in the now. It fascinates me.
Anticipation can be delicious, but it isn’t long before it can turn into a longing, then an ache that seeps into everything and colours the now with dissatisfaction. I am existing half in the future now: “When I finish editing, then costing up publication will happen. When I have saved up enough money, I’ll publish etc” but I am trying so hard to appreciate where I am now. Otherwise I might get really grumpy.
Even though you don’t have that toe-curling excitement about something coming up, at least you don’t have any more cubicle of soul-death to endure either. I have everything crossed for your competition – but no joy in that doesn’t relegate your art to therapy. It’s simply one more cobble in the road, there will be more of them.
And as for comments, quality, not quantity, right? ;o)
Quality indeed! I am honored you come here, you being an amazing writer and me being a Britophile. I just want you to have some company here in the comments section.
I am sooo looking forward to your book. I want everyone to look forward to your book! As a child I lived from one book to the next. Writers gave me a life I didn’t have. Maybe that’s why I live more in my imagination than in the real world. Maybe that’s why this world seems colorless at times! Other worlds are a mighty lure.
Yes, I do thank the stars that I am no longer someone’s property from 8 to 5. That does free me to work up Maslow’s heirarchy to something closer to self-actualization. Remember that studies have shown when workers finally receive adequate pay and working conditions, they lobby for paid vacation and health care! We humans are never satisfied until we feel well supplied with well deserved compensation, and consolation, for our suffering this existence.
i am always waiting as well, waiting to get pregnant…waiting for the birth of my child…waiting for my trip to america…waiting for her to go to sleep!
but unfortunately i don’t have any good retained memories of my youth. only the fun shopping trips with my mom…. having mexican food….disneyland. my good memories don’t start til i am much older and as time goes on and i feel more in control of my life the memories become better.
but now that i am a new mom i remember my mom’s soft skin….singing with her guitar….cuddling in bed…..her warm smile……her tinted glasses and long smooth hair.
maybe we need to try to retain as much good thoughts that we can and forget the rest!
Hi honey, (lexa is my youngest daughter)
Your comment is so sweet. It’s hard for me to imagine you can remember me at that young age. But I loved being a mother as much as you do now. Now that we have Dylan (and Josh), we’ll have plenty of good memories for years and years to come…..