Endings

 

This morning as I sat drinking my coffee and reading through social media, I was served up a meme with a quote by Brian Cox, the scientist (not the actor). 

Over the years I've enjoyed his programs on science, so I was interested in this quote:

"The ultimate paradox, of course, is that even though we're all going to die, we've all got to live in the meantime."

Given I am in the 'twilight' of my years (and privileged to be so) I have spent a fairly long time working out how I am going to live before it is time to die.

I've made mistakes.  I've done stupid things.  I've said hurtful things, and had some hurled at me.

I hope I have learned from those.  I have tried to be a better human as a consequence of messing things up.  To fix what I can.  To walk away when things have not worked out, and done that without flouncing.  Just...go my way and try to do better next time I mess up.

Which is a whole lot like weaving, too.  So many ways that weaving and learning feed my life.  

But I'm still here - long beyond when I thought I would be.  Frankly, given my family history, I wasn't sure I would make it to 75.  My father and brother both gone in their 50s.  Many others gone long before I hit my 70s.  Mom was an outlier in her family, living to 90.  

I could have died last year.  But I didn't.  But the past few years have not been, well, kind to me.

And so I am left with that one crucial task to tend to:  figure out how I will live the rest of my life.

Expectations have fallen by the wayside.  Energy is practically non-existent.  But I keep working to try and make things 'better'.

And while we rarely know the day of our death, it is a good idea to keep in mind - no one gets out of 'here' alive.

I talk to the pain doc next week.  I have no idea what - if anything - more he can do for me.  But I've got a warp on the loom.  I still (oh my gawd, yes *still*) have yarn that wants weaving.  I have an article I've tentatively begun for WEFT, and possibly another in the wings.

These things are carrots I hold before my nose, like you'd do to a horse, to keep them coming along.

As I go through my days, I try to help others, as best I can.  I try to encourage others.  

And if that is all I can manage in a day, well, it's better than sitting around feeling sorry for myself and *not* doing anything.  Because one thing I've come to realize, the pain is here and it's not going to go away - probably.  I cannot wallow in the mire of the fields of pain.

Today one of Santa's helpers delivered a gift, which means I have some new puzzles to build, too (two arrived a few days ago, personally delivered.)  

As for my house?  Yes, it's a mess.  But even in that we have managed to tame a few piles of clutter.  It's too little to make a dent, but *I* know that we've tried.  And if my energy 'holds', if my desire to leave less clutter and mess behind continues, there will be less of my mess to toss when I shuffle off this mortal coil.

And if this post is too morbid, I'm sorry.  But just like oil and gas will run out, my life force will, at some point in time.  If we don't deal with oil and gas and get alternatives, humanity is going to have to do some fast turn arounds.  As for me?  Well, again, no one gets out of here alive.  And I'm embarrassed at the stuff I've accumulated over the years.  It's hard to let some of it go.  But I will have to when the time comes.  Might as well take the burden of my spouse and friends and deal with it myself.

And who knows?  Maybe the pain doctor will have another strategy up his sleeve.  It's harder to remain hopeful and optimistic, but I'm trying.  And I will know more next week?  One way or another...