THE CORNERS IN MY LIFE

How in the world did I manage to live so long and transition from a teenage adrenaline-junky to an 86.6 year-old with a case of terminal wanderlust? For most of my life I’ve been writing in self defense, never knowing how the puzzle pieces fit but never giving up. In my 40’s I stumbled onto music. No training just listening to stories unfold in three verses and a bridge. I wondered how I might tell my story in three verses and a bridge, then I discovered it had already been written. In 1989 Willie Nelson recorded ‘There’s Nothing I Can Do About It Now.” With 35 years of hindsight my spirit’s not as wild or restless as Willie’s but the rest of it could belong to me just as easy. The bridge goes; Running through the changes; Going through the stages; Coming ‘round the corners in my life” and it ends with “I’m forgiving everything that forgiveness will allow and there’s nothing I can do about it now.” As I reflect on those changes, those stages and the corners and forgiveness; the thought of being something, someone other than who I am; not a good thought. My Here & Now is pretty good considering the years and the miles and I don’t think another path would be so forgiving. 
If one gets this deep into a long life I think pondering the journey with its stages and corners is important. Having a real job with a boss and responsibility is necessary but terribly time consuming. It’s really true, after you’ve been retired a year or so one wonders how they found time for work with so many other important things in play. Making decisions based on my own wants and needs came natural until a decade or so ago. Now the first criterion is; How will this affect the way I would be remembered? I have no confidence in the ‘Hereafter’ myth, none at all. The promise of what I leave behind is as good as it gets. I hope that would be a legacy of fair play, tough love when needed, compassion, affection and generosity.
I am healthy considering; some folks inherit better genetics and others make a serious effort to live a sustainable life style. I fall into both categories and I attribute my good fortune to those elements. Those changes, phases and corners in my life have been exciting as well as difficult. Nobody had to tell me; ‘when you fall down, get back up.’ As often as you fall, keep getting back up. Life is unforgiving. If you need help then get it but you still have to do the getting up. Then, today is the only day you can put your hands on so do something with it. I learned that from my mother and as long as I cling to that then her legacy is alive in me. 
I am making a legitimate effort to be positive and work on my own character rather than bemoan the politics and divisive powers that beset present times. By now I don’t have to elaborate on my values or ideological convictions and, I can discriminate between being judgmental and having an educated opinion. I refuse to be intimidated and attempts too normalize bad behavior will not weaken my resolve. So I wake up to a new day every day and make it my business to find the joy. Spring is just around the corner and my wanderlust has me exploring maps and weighing destinations. A 10 -14 day roadtrip will do wonders for my spirit; who knows who I’ll meet or where I’ll find them. 

PULL TO THE LEFT

My writing recently has been pulling to the left like my truck with low pressure in the front tire. My truck won’t fix itself, I have to do the fixing. February has been a challenging month. I am too old to be taken seriously but I can live with that. What little leverage I have is limited to mundane muttering over issues within my grasp. I know that and it’s alright. But February has been a month of reprehensible behavior by my country’s CEO and my mind keeps going there against my wishes. I don’t want to focus on his mischief as I cannot change his ways. I must have started this entry 6 or 8 times and never gotten to the 2nd paragraph.
I am missing a big lower tooth in the very back. That leaves the back-side surface of the next tooth exposed. It has a sharp edge that had been out of reach but now my tongue keeps going there without permission and I don’t notice until it makes a sore spot that I cannot ignore. Here comes the metaphor; my conscience is like my tongue and all the Trumpfuckery is like the sharp edge on my tooth. The term is defined in the Urban Dictionary as; . . . involving racist, misogynistic, hateful speech & actions masquerading as patriotism. I love my country and I’m sure that DT Disciples do too but the irony seems to be, we don’t want to live in the same country. 
I have friends who delight in beating up on the man but when I go that way all I get is a sore spot on my conscience. I’m old and life is short, too short to be pissing in the wind over a broken system. I choose not to think of it as being in denial but rather, spending my energy on things where I can in fact be an agent of change. I can help with feeding hungry people who cannot meet their own need, and I do, it's a good thing and I don' know who would step up if I didn't. Best of all when I get home I feel better than before. When I can, I make small contributions to Planned Parenthood, National Public Radio and the A.C.L.U. They put my few pennies to work with other donated pennies to make for a fairer, more equitable society. 
Somewhere in the middle years of my career I had a revelation so to speak. I became aware that being an educator made me a moving target. Students, administrators, parents, other teachers; I never know who is paying attention or what they notice. If you care at all what others take from your example then you have to wear the hat you want to be associated with all of the time, every minute of every day. I like to think I don’t care what others think but I do care about the quality of their experience when I am part of it. I still think about the hat I’m wearing. 
This life is truly a journey and we know its destination, the ride stops with a eulogy. That makes every day more precious than the day before. I’m not going to let an egomaniac at the wheel spoil my day; that bears repeating, I’m not going to let an egomaniac at the wheel spoil my day or the next, or the next. American poet Emily Dickinson wrote; “Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.” I like that. I don’t know when the dawn will come but I have to believe that it will.