I have been buried in rewrites for the past few days, which is why there was a forty-eight hour lapse since the last post. And yes I do feel rather guilty about having been otherwise engaged. Which is why I was up at seven this morning, telling myself: get the facebook post done now. Do you make lists of things you need to do? I am a compulsive list maker, and often feel that there is just too damn much going on in my life. Just as I also know that I am the architect of my charged, peripatetic lifestyle. As much as there is a part of me that sometimes craves a simpler existence (the cabin in the woods reverie that was expostulated by one of the early American transcendalists, Thoreau), the truth is: I need the immense density of life. I travel constantly, I am a culture junkie (always at the theatre, the concert hall, the cinema, the art gallery), I love the ongoing conversation that is friendship (have you every pondered the thought: friendship is God’s apology for family?). Most of all I l find my two children to be endlessly extraordinary (but I am biased on that subject). But like just about every other sentient person out there I also often consider the life not led, or the choices made that have coagulated my life. But here again is a universal verity: the choices we make are ultimately our very own choices. We can cite outside forces or circumstances, or the influence of others, as the reason why one road was traversed, another eshewed. But we can’t ultimately blame events and incidences (or the persuasive powers of someone else) if we make decisions that land us in places (or, for that matter, lives) that we don’t want. I am rather existentialist on this subject. We bear ultimate responsibility for choices made, actions taken. Indeed, our choices and decisions are what finally shape our destiny. And now I really am ready for a third shot of morning espresso.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 12:40:53 +0000
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