There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
And so we blog…
Extracting bits of thought
Letter by letter.
Arranging in order
Or left broken.
In story form
Just in time.
The idea of perfection always gives one a chance to talk without knowing the facts.
Agnes Sligh Turnbull
The pursuit of perfection.
A perfect plot for the impossible.
As the first few words
Slip out flawlessly.
A fateful pause. Phrase suspended.
Cloudy with doubt.
New words form.
One by one
Squeezing their way out.
And stick this time.
And then, not expecting it, you become middle-aged and anonymous. No one notices you. You achieve a wonderful freedom. It is a positive thing. You can move about, unnoticed and invisible.”
But is this really a good thing? A positive thing? Not being seen or heard anymore? Content to be…hidden? What about our years of wisdom and experience…
I remember a fifth grade class assignment where we had to choose a superpower we’d wish for. And why. My choice: “being invisible.” I envisioned all kinds of adventure…and power. I could go anywhere. Be anything. Find out what was going on (because, after all, there must be something more interesting going on somewhere!).
But now? Decades later? Invisible is tantamount to just not being here…or anywhere…at all. Not really. After a certain age, you tend to disappear in the eyes of the younger set. Salespeople look through you, or just over your head. Questions are dodged or ignored all together. Their attention lost while you search for reading glasses.
Not everywhere and not all the time. But often enough to piss me off. And make me speak up a little louder. Whether I have the energy or not.
Mary Chapin Carpenter has a different take on the Middle Ages.
…We used to dread lives rendered ordinary
we always said we’d own a grander story
but the only kind worth telling somehow
is the one about a jolt that makes you listen
that jagged lightning bolt of recognition
that love and kindness are all that matter now…
Mary Chapin Carpenter
If I could choose a superpower now, it would probably be flying. It would solve so many problems. And what fun!
What would be your superpower choice? And…do you think being “middle-aged” invites anonymity? And, if so, is this a positive? I am still considering the possibilities.
For me, writing something down is the only road out.”
Where to start that road? The way out.
Gotta begin digging somewhere. Turning over rocks. Roots. Dirt.
The perfect spot.
Or the less than perfect spot…but the best spot.
Prepare the foundation. For strength. Support.
Begin at the middle? the end?
Curb? Maybe no curb. Perhaps it will be wider than normal.
And those trees. In the way? Or build around them?
Maybe no trees.
Maybe flowers instead.
Color it up.
A proper base for the layer of asphalt. Maybe concrete.
Or perhaps just throw down some gravel and be done with it.
Or forget the fancy stuff and pack down the dirt.
After all it’s just a road.
But it’s your road.
How does one find this road?…that’s up to you.
So travelers will know.
It’s your road out.