silliness ahead

The closer I get to 80, the more I find myself in a rare (and persistent) state of well-being. Granted, my body’s not what it used to be (all warranties expired, etc.), romance and sexual adventures have become the thing of dreams, career and academic pursuits no longer hold appeal, and even travelling to far away places is of declining interest.

Taking the dogs for daily dawdles to the corner café (“posing as a man of leisure” as my friend M. says), reading new books (at least a chapter or two before nodding off), diving more deeply into the life and poetry of Rumi the 8th C. Persian mystic, and bending down to inhale the scent of spring flowers — these are the simple things that fill my days. Plus, come to think of it, five weekly meditation groups on zoom, dabbling in family genealogy, and accompanying friends for breakfast, just about exhaust my capacity for excitement.

“The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected,” writes Robert Frost.

Wikimedia/Maria Popova

Been reading (and re-reading) Gratitude: four short essays by Oliver Sacks (1933-2015), neurologist, writer, and historian of science. Composed during the last few months of his life, they “movingly describe his feelings about completing a life and coming to terms with his own death”. His words delineate what I see unraveling before me.

Over the last few days I have been able to see my life as from a great altitude, as a sort of landscape, with a deepening sense of the connection of all its parts. This does not mean I am finished with life. On the contrary, I feel intensely alive, and I want and I hope in the time that remains to deepen my friendships, to say farewell to those I love, [and] achieve new levels of understanding and insight.

This will involve audacity, clarity, and plain speaking; trying to straighten my account with the world. But there will be time, too, for some fun (and even some silliness, as well).

I feel a sudden focus and perspective. There is no time for anything inessential. (p.18)