Tuesday morning. Sun is shining. View of the lake is beautiful. Deep, life giving blue. Fan remains motionless. Light is flashing. Few boats on the river. Aqueduct is flowing. Sun is shining bright on the water. Cars behind me are motoring as the day goes by. Morning rhythm is nice. Not a hurried time. Most commuters left early in the morning, around 5 and 6. Glad, I no longer do that. Three hours a day gone on the road, never to return back to me. Each day, each week. 15 hours gone per week to concrete. 60 hours a month seated in the Civic, given to Highway 14 and 101. 720 hours a year lost to a commute. Lost forever.
Can’t get back those times ever again. Funny, Stefanie asked if I was close to family, I said yeah, I’ve been making this more and more a priority. For several years, work was the high point, the Priority. Drove around Southern California. Morning to night, work. Open to close. Had no qualms. Had no regrets. Had all the time to give, not knowing what I gave up. Denial.
Now, it’s different. Qualms galore. Regrets of lost time. Sublimation, perhaps it was? Running from who I needed to become under the guise of more. . .more. . .more. This more cost me so much. Like hours on the road, never to say “I Love You.” Never to say “I am glad that you are my life.” Never to say. . .
My penance is done soon. I’ve done my time. Prayers have been sent. I’ve requested Forgiveness, expressed my desire. Needed to make time for the next generation. Hopefully face time will bring people to my funeral. . . when that day comes. Figure, if I don’t take the time now, why would anyone want to come see me one last time. I can tell I’ve missed so much. Attended a few kids birthday parties and I know I lost so much, lost to the road. May not have the glorious church-filling ceremony one’s sees. However, I hope certain ones would attend. Hope is all I got.
Wanderlust is calling again. My inkling to explore, inkling to visit, inkling to see what was missed. The call from a distant is a whisper away. Getting louder though. Soon it will be a clarion call. Like Gabriel’s horn sounding. Time is almost over. Times is about to begin. Shiva has done its thing. Brahma hopefully will create something nice again. I’ve been crucibled. Extraneous stuff burned away. Fires has burned on through and I hope to be better. Back to basics again. My pyre has run its course. Time anew.
Cars pass by like the dots of time that make a line we call life. Many decision of this that and the other. Hoping it will get us where we need to be. Figure there is some purpose. Figure some reason for choosing what I’ve done. Deep grand gestures. Silent moments alone watching the sun shine on the lake. Listening to the cars behind me. Moments lost realizing what was missed. Trying to remember what was gained.
All one can do is just be the moment now and hope that will be enough. Like lovers in the night, waking up the next morning. Sometime a morning coffee with a “Good morning.” Sometimes an apple with a note, saying “Had a great time.” Sometimes, an unexpected snowstorm that causes an airport shutdown.
Not too hot. A nice breezy day. Randall Henderson once said, in On Desert Trails, "The desert. . ."reveals its true character to those who come with courage, tolerance, and understanding. For those, the desert holds rare gifts." There is something about living in the AV in the morning. A moment of pause, a time to reflect.
Watching the aqueduct flow now. Man-made river. Not a real river, like the Colorado, or Inez. A river nonetheless. Can’t step in the same river twice. Water moving, always moving. A place to run. A place to chase after the sun. A place to sit and reflect, catching a fish or two. Walking, with one’s thought of memories made
Watching the aqueduct flow now. Man-made river. Not a real river, like the Colorado, or Inez. A river nonetheless. Can’t step in the same river twice. Water moving, always moving. A place to run. A place to chase after the sun. A place to sit and reflect, catching a fish or two. Walking, with one’s thought of memories made
Alas, the SLK to my left has decided to re-join the flow. Decided to get up and go. Decided to leave worries, regrets, and qualms. They go by. Racing with the big wheelers, trucks, and others. Each having a purpose, a journey to explore. Not knowing where to go. Not knowing what to do. Can’t help think of the eosinophille, the WBC, basophile, getting on the artery. Times clumped together with family and friend. Memories made. Biochemical packages of our most cherished. Can’t keep the stuff we have here. It may be futile to try. Still, we do.
Its not so bad. Could be worse. A lot worse. Could have missed out on love. Could have missed out on Family. Could have chosen the road well travelled. Could have never done. Could have slept in the car with my back to the sun. Could have never seen the lake and man-made river below. Could have just stayed locked in on the concrete artery of the 14. Driving mindlessly to an existence of lackluster memories.
Still, its time to journey again. Do my SLK and get back on the road again. This two year pause has been a journey itself. Healing is done. Choices anew. Maybe the sun will shine on me again. I miss its warmth. Maybe, I will say “I Love You” again. Maybe I will say, “I am glad you are in my life.” Maybe I will say what needs to be said. Hopefully, I will do it better this times. With Bigger Regrets, With Bigger Qualms, With Bigger Smiles. With Bigger Sighs. To do again, what I will most regret and will not forget. Such is Life, for I am better for it.
