Sunday, February 5, 2012

Slow Days

I’ve been AWOL. Sorry. Life has been moving slowly. When life moves slow and there’s little to say, I find little reason to write even just a little. I come home and want to sleep. I put off writing until another time. And everything gets left behind.

Not writing for a couple days stacks up fast. The things we meant to do and the things that we always intended to do suddenly appear as a list of should have beens. Playing catch-up is important. Stopping and self-evaluating is important to determine one’s trajectory.

For the last few days I have been rudderless. I believe that is good too. I don’t always have to be singularly focused on something in my life. I don’t always have to be making grand plans. But when I do it is good. Some people wander into greatness and power--or even just the life they want to live. I don’t believe I will have that honor. For me to get what I want out of life I will have some opportunities, but no road map; no one will do the work for me.

But my young, attractive, semi-white, college-educated maleness should help too. And I’m going to ride that train to the end of the line.

I think I sort of lost track of what I was saying. What I was saying is that I haven’t been writing because life hasn’t been exciting. But life has been good. And that’s worth something too.

I walk to work in the morning. I watch the sun rise. I eat a hearty and delicious lunch. I work at my job. I walk home. I cook dinner. I pick up Ciera. We hang out and have slow quiet nights in our apartment. It’s a life of comfortable and happy monotony. The days are getting longer and I can’t think of anything better to do than be around here. The sunsets are incredible. So much so that people on the street regularly stop to watch it.

It is a pleasure to be in a beautiful urban environment. The cascades, Mt Rainier, and the Olympics shelter the bustling metropolis. And I don’t write much because it’s easier to take it in and never give it back.