I’ve
been doing a lot of reflecting lately. Out West, it’s usually late at night
after the sun has set and the mountains are outlined in gray and black. Back in
Minnesota, it reverses itself and I find my reflective thoughts nudging out the
bird songs and early morning dew on the grass.
What
do I want to do with the rest of my life and is Eighty-One too late to start?
Two questions with no concrete answers for either one. What I am sure of is
that I’d rather be happy at the miles traveled rather than look back at the
many stumbles encountered. It took me a lifetime to get here with no shortcuts
but plenty of detours along the way. If one were to review the well over 600
blogs I’ve written, one would surely find a discernable pattern of reflective
thoughts there. Over the years, I’ve discovered special spots here and there
for those reflective thoughts.
One
of my first places to take in the wonder of beauty around me was discovered
while traversing one of the many steep switch-back mountain trails in my
backyard. A flat rock, perfect for resting my backpack and tired limbs, gave me
pause before continuing my climb to the top.
The
panoramic views brought a state of enlightenment to my strenuous climbs and
descents among the canyons and switch-backs that surround me here in the
desert.
Nestled
among the orange and lemon trees, two old worn out Adirondack chairs hid me from
the golfers passing by and the birds romancing in the branches above. It’s a
place to settle down with my coffee, tablet and open mind for the sights and
sounds and smells that abound there. All of these quiet nature-made pews
stimulate an appreciation for my life thus far. Of course, there are always
mental nay-sayers along the way.
Unfortunately,
what’s working against me is my German Catholic upbringing. Too much allegiance
to the man of the cloth along with his sisters-in-kind. Their word was sacred
and final and all too often wrong in all the right places. Emotions and
feelings were a sign of weakness and our elders often preached that ‘children
should be seen and not heard.’
What’s
working in my favor is my German Catholic upbringing. There was always a focus
on hard work, material sacrifice and a subtle but unmistakable desire to get
ahead. Past generations would often describe it (and usually disparagingly) as
‘rising above your raisin.’ My mother led by example, not words or lectures. It
was a subtle message but well received by my sister and I.
What I’ve stumbled across in my old age (relatively speaking) is the ability to see my luck (through the fog of daily life) in whom I married, my kids, and my grandkids. If there is a legacy to be left behind, I guess they’re mine.
I’ve
been most fortunate with my health, managing my cerebral curiosity and how I’ve
chosen to live my life on a daily basis. There’s been a real outburst of
writing projects over the last several years that has surprised even me.
Trying to write music for several of
my plays.
Getting my plays produced beyond the
five already there.
Getting my children’s book ‘Waleed,
the Skinny Hippo’ in front of more kids.
Exploring the idea of a graphic
novel for ‘Sweetpea & the Gang.’
Marketing two movie scripts to the
right contacts in Hollywood.
Toying with the idea of a concept
album of my own music.
At this stage of the game, the one and only truth that counts for me is simply that: Health is Wealth. I’ve been incredibly lucky thus far.
Leaving the comfort of home for the rough, unknown of a mountain trek opens one up for all kinds of cerebral explorations. Early morning or late-night rendezvous with nature does the same trick with your head. It all comes down to not knowing what you’ll find and not caring. Just enjoying the serenity and peace and calm of mother nature. And luckily reflecting on a life well-lived.
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