Today is January 6, 2022. How it got here is anyone's guess, but here it is. As has become my custom, I do not care about the new year the way I used to when I was younger. The younger me thought there was something special about the new year, that it portended special things. The older me believes that is bunk, that resolutions are bunk, and that idealism about the new year is bunk. The older me also is unwilling to get into a bunk bed.
The older me is happy to be here and likes the fun of New Year's Eve, but does not need to be reminded that time is ticking. The older me experiences the speeding of time on a regular basis. That is likely why I tend to ignore the days on the calendar and just kind of wait to see when the paycheck arrives as a gauge of where things are.
I like the idea of meandering about many things, but time in particular. As Satchel Paige is said to have said, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" Meandering allows us to see past a number and back to the feeling that ignorance gives us license. Whether it is actually 2022 or 2024, does it really matter? Does it really matter if I am 63 or 61? Satchel Paige played ball long past the age that most men of his time did. Partly he did it because he was allowed to do so at the level he was capable of playing and part of it was because he thought he could.
What would be like if we worried less about time and age and allowed people to just be who they feel they are? Okay, I can see where some of you minds might be going, but I mean just about enjoying the moment we are in. If we were not so all consumed with the moments in the day or the date on the calendar, maybe we would enjoy the moments a little bit better. Meander on that for a moment.
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