Saying something with nothing 

I have been trying to start a blog post for a couple of weeks (thanks to all of you visitors who came in spite of a dearth of new content). I am reminded of Lord Byron’s reply to some correspondence:

You enquire after my health – it is as usual – but I am subject to great depression of spirits – occasionally; without sufficient cause. – Preserve yours.

Lord Byron, October 12, 1821

And that often sums things up. I have a double whammy of mental illness and debilitating illness. So what can I say? I feel shitty sometimes, others not. Prior to the big wall, I hit a few years ago, I was riding life quite differently.

It was a fast ride, played good and bad. A race up and down. I casually sacrificed my life for the consumption of western culture. And my appetite was voracious (still kind of is, but I am exhausted more easily).

When I was young I had a different maxim. Like all of us oldsters, I guess, we look back at those days. Fast, stupid, ignoring any future cost, physical and mental. As Hunter S. Thompson said;

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!”

Hunter S. Thompson

I have been in a skid for a while. I can say, wow, what a ride, but my ride isn’t over. In spite of my agonies, my body isn’t totally worn out. Hunter was wrong.

Life is balance. There is a price to be extracted for every rash action. Those accidental effects will come back. A crick in your back, a splinter in your mind. 

And you will have to learn to live with your ghosts. And the aches they left.

I haven’t been doing that well. In fact, lately, I am angry with myself for not heeding a few stop signs. I know, spilled milk and all that. Still, when I am doubled over in pain or in a weird place between here and there, it’s hard not to have regrets.

So there you are, I am not riding high, but not as low as I could. My body is pretty much what it was last week and what it will be next week. For choices big and small, my fitness is poor. Don’t let yours be the same.

Published by Just j

Author, photographer, music nerd and just this guy, you know.

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