I know I should consider myself lucky. Not everyone has a job, a roof over their head or food on the table. I’m really fortunate. I have all the basic necessities and then some. But why don’t I feel that way?
I shouldn’t whine or complain. And for most of my life I haven’t because that’s how I’ve been programmed. I grew up in an era where you suppressed all the shitty feelings, pushed them down and sucked it up. Don’t complain. Be a man. Get shit done.
But the fact of the matter is, sometimes I’m tired. Really tired. I did the math the other day. I’ve been working over thirty years. Thirty fucking years! Hurts just to say it. When I was younger, I had unlimited energy with matching drive. Now I find myself looking for a quiet, shady park bench to rest my aching feet.
About fifteen years ago, I led a small team. Our team spanned all decades. One member was in his twenties, another in her thirties, I was in my forties, another in his fifties and the last one in his sixties. It was a great team. Sharp, professional, kind. I remember witnessing the oldest in our group beginning to slow down. The work was still great. He just seemed to move at a slower pace. The other day I laughed to myself as I began seeing a parallel between him and who I am now. Am I starting down that same road? Did he feel as tired as I do now? And then the ultimate question, how much longer can I do this?
I sometimes let slip a comment or word under my breath, or find myself in the midst of a long sigh. I have no intentions for my wife to overhear, but it’s like a gag reflex. I can’t help it. It just comes out. I always assure her I’m OK. These utterances are just my way of opening up the pressure valve and they are only a release and I’m doing fine. And I am. These feelings are temporary. I know I’m OK.
I occasionally need to climb over this tall hurdle in the morning to kickstart my day. The challenge is, Father Time keeps heaping more junk on the pile making the hurdle that much more difficult to conquer. But I will. I always do. Thankfully this hurdle climbing is infrequent and not an everyday occurrence. I’m grateful for that.
So this post became more than a comment, a word or a long sigh. It was a really needed release this morning. One day I’ll look through my health insurance and see about a little therapy. It probably would do me some good. Until then, I’ll occasionally spew out a little bit on this anonymous blog of mine for a little release. At the very least I can look forward to the song at the end.
In the meantime, I’ll keep reminding myself that I’m employed, sheltered from the elements and thankfully haven’t gone hungry. Life isn’t really that bad. I truly am lucky.
I’ve pulled a few songs from Moonpools and Caterpillars into the playlist. I found their album Lucky Dumpling while digging through a used CD bin 25 years ago. I’m pretty sure their music never received any airplay. It wasn’t often that I found an obscure band that I really enjoyed. I liken this to finding a needle in a haystack. So here’s a Traveling Song from the Lucky Dumpling album. I like this song because of the uptempo shift change midway through the song. I need something like that. A little surge of energy to push me out of this funk. Oh, and the yodeling ain’t too bad either.
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For a complete playlist, please click here.
For the Spotify playlist, please click here.
Looking back on places i've been to
Funny how it seems how i must travel
And park in towns with roadside dinners
And farmers who watchs satilite tv
Nebraska town
I met a lady, her name is marge and she sells antiques
And she says " it's lovely weather"
But i thinnk that she just want to talk to me
I believe
It is simple to be...
Lets go out
And drive together
We'll drive and drive
And we'll drive all night
Spit sunflower seeds out the window
And sing the best songs from the jackson 5
I believe....
It is simple just being FREE!
I've been across this country about dozen times
I've seen it all
Heck i've been there before
I've hiked on the backlands
And seen the corner palace
And when we were good, we stopped at a prarie dog town
Now i know it's simple because i've seen it
Oh my eyes have seen the glory, of american
Magnificents and so divine
I've read all about its peaople
Who built this steady nation
Creating what could very possibly me mine
I believe...it is so simple to be free!
Oh and i believe,i know it is
Oh and i believe it is
( repeats )
I believe it is so simple to be free
I believe it is....
You’re articulating shared experience so well. The fatigue of repetition and losing taste. I think about how, when people get older they start wanting to carry around hot sauce, or need more salt. I notice that I’m adding more pepper already. It seems symbolic of a more systemic thing that happens. We have to find new things that light us up, and in your case it sounds like you could do with some real deep rest. I’m glad blogging is helpful, at least somewhat. Therapy is also sometimes less than you think, depending on approach/insurance/etc. My out of pocket is $20 per session, twice per month. Likely I will go down to one session soon.
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I feel you. Think about doing all of that with a disability. Last week was hard despite the fact we celebrated our 30th anniversary. The news of R.J. Mitte’s death and then the shooting of a special ed classroom in Oregon. People with disabilities already start behind the 8 ball, we really don’t need added obstacles. I don’t have a 9 to 5 but I can’t wait for my husband to be able to retire. Our anniversary trip was a lot of fun without the stress of watching a clock.
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