Midlife. Some thoughts.
The archetypes of the wise old man and eternal youth. The building of the ego in the first phase of life ---a solid sense of self to navigate the requirements of tribal living and to engage in effective transactions with the physical world ---the ability to choose--- Responsibility for one's choices.
Then the turning. The consideration of choices not made. Potentials unlived. Coming to terms with the finite. Reconciling. Re-uniting parts of self. All those parts that were put on hold, diverted, rejected, ignored and misplaced ---coming back home at midlife like rowdy relatives. Or staying ex-communicated. No longer in touch. Sometimes the most basic needs and desires; wanting expression. Not necessarily in physical ways ---that page has turned--- no red sports cars. Diamond rings. Plastic surgery. In symbolic importance. In the rituals of life. In the ways their presence is recognized. And they still burn. Unsmothered.
The wise old man and his procedures: life experiences processed through a set of choices that worked. Or were at least predictive. To some threshold extent.
Eternal youth and its options: possibilities no one had thought of before. Or had missed in the reckoning. Or given up prematurely. Re-inventing the wheel. Or perhaps, something new.
The balance of the two ---not a dried up old trout--- not a clueless guppy. Been there. Done that. Still missed more than received. Keeping eyes open for those cracks in the most mundane. Most routine. Most black and white. Carrying utmost confidence in the complete unknown. You've learned a trick or two. An answer. Maybe not the answer. But always a starting point. And many guides. You don't need a reason to feel how you feel. But feelings aren't facts. A turning point when ego becomes a rudder rather than an anchor. But you have to be ready to travel. To lose sight of the shore. What a strange adventure, on the dark side of the moon. In your ghost ship.
Then the turning. The consideration of choices not made. Potentials unlived. Coming to terms with the finite. Reconciling. Re-uniting parts of self. All those parts that were put on hold, diverted, rejected, ignored and misplaced ---coming back home at midlife like rowdy relatives. Or staying ex-communicated. No longer in touch. Sometimes the most basic needs and desires; wanting expression. Not necessarily in physical ways ---that page has turned--- no red sports cars. Diamond rings. Plastic surgery. In symbolic importance. In the rituals of life. In the ways their presence is recognized. And they still burn. Unsmothered.
The wise old man and his procedures: life experiences processed through a set of choices that worked. Or were at least predictive. To some threshold extent.
Eternal youth and its options: possibilities no one had thought of before. Or had missed in the reckoning. Or given up prematurely. Re-inventing the wheel. Or perhaps, something new.
The balance of the two ---not a dried up old trout--- not a clueless guppy. Been there. Done that. Still missed more than received. Keeping eyes open for those cracks in the most mundane. Most routine. Most black and white. Carrying utmost confidence in the complete unknown. You've learned a trick or two. An answer. Maybe not the answer. But always a starting point. And many guides. You don't need a reason to feel how you feel. But feelings aren't facts. A turning point when ego becomes a rudder rather than an anchor. But you have to be ready to travel. To lose sight of the shore. What a strange adventure, on the dark side of the moon. In your ghost ship.
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