I haven’t had time to reflect on anything lately. Correction – I haven’t made time. Life is speeding by faster than a chick can spend a hundred bucks at Target. Yes, that fast! I am good at living in the moment, seizing the day, raging against the dying of the light and appreciating that everything is temporary. But I’m not always good about letting my experiences sink into my heart and soul. They often float around my brain and then get replaced by the next shiny thing I see before I can truly realize what I have learned, enjoyed or even feared.
It’s like the difference between happiness and meaningful happiness. Having a fun night out makes me happy, but it is unlikely I’ll have life-long memories of each time this happens. Being part of something bigger and meaningful is more fulfilling and likely to stick with me forever. Sometimes the little things are indeed big and meaningful but I don’t give them a chance because I’ve already moved on to a dozen other things.
Writing has always been a good way for me to combat this non-stop revolving door because it causes me to think back and interpret things that happen in my world, whether they are funny, trivial, sad, interesting or whatever. I haven’t been writing jack lately. No particular reason. I just haven’t.
So today I write and all I can think of at this very moment is that there was a time when I chose my wine at home based on the type, grape, vineyard, accompanying meal and other traditional factors. Now it’s based on which bottle has a screw top because it’s so much easier. Isn’t that remarkable? Immediate gratification. Short term happiness, bruthas and sistahs.
I suppose I thought of wine bottles because I’m craving wine, beer or a stiff drink right now. I had been lax on visiting the doc and was way overdue for a physical. I’m 47 years old. My dad had prostate cancer. Can you see where this is going? My last prostate check was over a year ago. My doc left the practice so I had a new one today. What a way to meet someone for the first time. After squeezing my testicles, this tiny Spanish woman ordered me to bend over. She wiggled her finger. She was limbering up!! Was that really necessary? She didn’t even give me flowers. Needless to say, I didn’t shake her hand on the way out.
I also need to get a colonoscopy. My dad had colon cancer too. Thanks for the genes pops. I prefer my anus to be a one-way street. I’m not a fan of fingers and tubes. And if I’m going to be naked around a camera, I sure don’t want said camera shoved up my ass. That’s not the sex tape I envisioned.
Of course I decide to write on the day I see the doctor and am reminded how old I am and how I need to take care of myself, therefore I write about anus invasions.
The point is it could be over at any moment. I expect to be around for another fiddy years or so, but I don’t take it for granted. Which is why I’m going to try to write more, in order to reflect more and to appreciate the everyday things that I profess to enjoy by living in the moment. It’s one thing to say it and think I’m doing it but quite another to step back, actually stop and let my life process from my brain to my heart and very soul. I think I can keep up this rapid pace if I take time to think about it and write about it. So that is my game-plan. I have that going for me. Which is nice.