On The Downside

I had a friend tell me not long ago that at our age, nothing real positive happened. His emphasis was on that we had nothing to look forward to any more. He used the examples of when you turn 16, you look forward to getting your Driver's License, and later graduating from high school and college, and then starting your career, and so on and so forth. At our age, the only thing we have to look forward to is going to the doctor and hoping you don't have a terminal illness or something else wrong with you. The more I think about it, the more I believe he is right. You can say 50 is the new 30 all you want but I don't believe that for a second. I have rheumatoid arthritis, the beginning symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, high blood pressure, and so on and so forth. There is not a second of the day that I am not in pain. I have tried putting as much of a positive spin on this that I can but it is becoming harder and harder every day. I am only approaching early middle age. I will admit that I am only limited to what I can do by my own misgivings. I told my ex-wife yesterday that I was tired of taking all of these pills just so I could sleep and just so I could function on a minimal level every day. What I really need to work on is a more positive mental approach. After all, I can only play the hand I am dealt.

Therapeutic Writing

Writing has always been my therapy. About a year or so ago (maybe not that long ago), I was reading an article about Mark Twain and how he carried a journal with him everywhere he went and was constantly writing in it. When his daughter died, that was the only way he knew how to deal with his grief was by writing about it. I was so fascinated by this story I felt compelled to call my oldest sister to tell her that Mark Twain and I shared the same compulsion. She wasn't as thrilled about it as I was. I originally had to start carrying my journal with me everywhere I went to keep my ex-wife from reading it. My desire was to keep my Journal as private as possible. It is never going to make me any money, I am never going to be famous, and I really do not know why anyone would ever want to read it. My Journal contains no revelations about the universe, no deep philosophies that are going to change people's lives, and I am probably not going to reveal the meaning of life. Until I starting blogging about four years ago, my writing was never for public consumption (and evidently it is still not), but when i started blogging, I changed the way I wrote for fear of revealing to much about myself. That is why my Journal has always been so important to me is because I could reveal myself within its pages and no one would be there to read it. This blog has been about the most revealing thing I have ever written. I don't have to worry about anyone reading it, either.

In Memory Of My Father

Yesterday would have been my father's 77th birthday. He has been gone for 6 1/2 years now and I have to be honest, the first couple of years were more emotional for me. Now, I remember his birthday but the memory is more of one of regret than it is anything else. I regret that I was not closer to my father and I regret that I did not know him as well as I should have. The opportunity was there, I just did not take advantage of it. Me and my Father were as different as night and day. He was a man of the outdoors. Hunting and fishing were his passions and a perfect day for him was stomping through the woods with his bird dogs or out on the lake or in a stream with a fishing pole in his hand. I was more into my academic pursuits. A perfect day for me was spent in the library reading a book or on a computer doing some research. The only common bond we had was sports. Every once in a while I would step into his world and go hunting or fishing but rarely, if ever, would he step into my world. I really do not think he knew how. There is not a day goes by that I do not think of him and something he said or did and realize now that it was a life lesson that he taught me, no matter how small or inocuous. With age comes wisdom, and I am still learning from his wisdom and life experience, years after the fact. That means that he did what he was supposed to do as a father and taught me right from wrong and what to do and what not to do.

The Planning Stages

I was able to buy myself some time this past week so I can plan my next move but I do not even know where to begin. Do I begin with a resume and take the first offer that comes along? Do I start writing some side projects and hope they will launch me into something bigger and better? Do I start networking and hope that can scare up something better for me? The point of all of this is that I have to take action of some kind. I have to reinvent myself in that regard. I have never been a take charge kind of guy and I have never had the confidence to take charge. A class on leadership would probably be a good place to start. There are so many options and so many places I could start. I believe it was Confucius that said "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

Motivation

Motivation comes in the strangest forms. I have always accepted the status quo amd procrastination has always been my modus operandi. I was afraid I was going to lose my job of 25 years. The reality of the situation is that I have nothing to show for those 25 years. I am still living paycheck to paycheck and I have never come close to living up to my potential and I have never been the best I could be- at anything. Almost losing what little I do have should be a real motivating factor. I hope it will motivate to try more, to achieve more, and to just be more. I have never considered money to be a barometer for success (which is a good thing) and that is not going to be my focus. Almost losing my job has bought me a little bit of time- I hope. I need to quit procrastinating, get off my ass, and realize my potential and as a friend of mine told me when all of this started about three weeks ago "you need to go out and be the Dan you have always wanted to be."