My world is on a jagged, roller coaster ride. Sometimes the path appears to be straight without any impediments along the way and suddenly, under one of the wheels that ships me on my way, a tiny stone throws me off balance. Peace may follow again for a short bit, but watch out because there is always a quick, jagged turn. I lunge forward, crash backwards, appear to ricochet and then settle down only to sway to the right or left before balance and quietude return. During this maelstrom of events, as I gather up myself from the mental bruising of feeling like a boomerang I become even more quiet, or move into repugnant actions, but always become more introverted than ever before and as I draw within me, solitude is gained through an incontrollable binge on food followed later by discomfort.
As I grow older, I find I don’t handle these torrential periods as well as I used to and I am particularly not happy to feel the wear and tear on my body and mind. Wearing out, physically or emotionally, before I want to, is not to happen. I vowed years ago that I would never let something get the best of me, but now I begrudgingly admit, I acknowledge it takes too much energy to even try to go on as long as I used too.
Ah, the wonderment of young years. In my twenties and thirties I could stay up all day and night working or playing and regardless of the action was able to continue on the next days without a bit of problem. During my late forties I noticed a little change, but certainly nothing to get excited about, but then that terrible number rolled around and life began to change significantly after fifty. Oh the change wasn’t again the worst thing I have ever experienced, I only adapted new ways of working or balancing long hours with hours of rest. When this current decade of age arrived (the one that placed me in my sixties) I knew that life was going to be different. Now at sixty-two I can definitely say, particularly when I have much too do, the amount of physical work I can do is far less than in my twenties. I must also admit that my midriff is a lot larger than it was. It seems that if it isn’t one thing then it is another.
Fortunately, I pray, my current situation will not last much longer. Hopefully, once I reach a point of conclusion in my work, my roller coaster ride will change to a gentler Merry Go Round. Merry Go Round’s are fine. You can get on easily when something happens and in a short time you can also step off and quickly and easily return to normalcy. Now should this not be possible, or if my current tumultuous life continues on longer than it should, then I will need to take a severe measure by taking charge of me–something that is quite difficult to do. I can try to help others take charge of their lives, but I am not as good at it in my own life, so let’s hope I don’t have to try!!!
The climb up the hill finally ended the other day. All that was to be finished was finished, even though my psychological hill was gouged with unforgettable marks recording how often I slipped, stood up, continued and finally achieved what I wanted.
But–yes and it is a big but–not more than 48 hours after the I looked around from the top of my jagged, hill I began to worry if all this wear and tear would do me some harm. Another day I knew, as I lay in my bed racked with fever, swollen sinus and chills. The dreaded ills of just a month ago returned to me. Possibly if I had taken the time to care for me then, today, I may have not been able to enjoy the return of the same symptoms.
As I look back over the past weeks I wonder if I would have done it any different. Would I learn to stop, rest and go on, or will I continually just plunge, recklessly forward believing my anthem of “It must be done!” is right. Here I am somewhere near the entrance to my Crepusculum. I think I am supposed to be wiser, smarter, seasoned as I cross over to my twilight years. But the truth is, I am sure I will continue to blunder on my way as I always do without once taking charge to plan. Ah tis sad to know that the older I get, the more stubborn I get.
Now with aspirin in me to hold down the fever and allow me to write and think I see just how ridiculous this all is. I am an adult and I should know better, but I don’t. Tomorrow will not bring a bolt of lightning to change me, but the tomorrow after each of the new tomorrows may lead me down a new trail and change may occur a little bit at a time. If only I could believe I am sixty-two and not twenty. If only I could accept I can’t do it all. If only I can remember that exhaustion leads to areas I don’t want to go to. If only I would remember that once I have entered my Crepusculum I had better be just a little more in control!!