My desk is a mess; a sad reflection of the chaos permeating my mind. Perhaps the only thing I have together right now it my Madden Season, because I just built a new one from the ground up, and at least–in just starting–I kind of know what is going on. Otherwise, I am a mess. I need a calendar. I need a mooring perhaps beyond a vague date of my next trip. I need a true north beyond the start of school, which has slipped into a lower niche in my mental calculations. I need a thing to be about, but one that is manageable and joyous. At present what I have is a vague notion of what I want to write, and I am working on that, but beyond that… crickets.
So, here is the thing: Life is a countdown. You have an unspecified amount of time to do things that make your heart sing and make you feel like you did what you were supposed to. At the end of the countdown, you time out–you end. Perhaps you spend eternity reflected in your own memories, and perhaps not, but I like to think that you end satisfied by what you did, and I am not satisfied by what I’ve done.
I need to look forward and do better.