Simple Things

I came across a fallen tree,
I felt the branches; are they looking at me?
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

Keane (Somewhere Only We Know)

 

I am indeed getting old. It's tougher when you can feel it in all levels - physically, mentally, emotionally. People would tell me sometimes, "Just enjoy it. You don't really have to be worrisome all the time." Sure, that's good a mantra "Life's a bitch! Enjoy it anyway." But then I realized that to really have fun, you have to be superficial. Take the good things as they come and be in the moment. No thoughts of what you're leaving behind; of what you're actually sacrificing for a few moments of self-serving fun.   

Consider this: I always want to play badminton every Thursday night but I seldom do because I can't leave extra work behind. That's just being responsible, and that's what I live by above all else. But weighing it out, that's also being irresponsible - to my own well-being. Life.Work.Balance. I see that on our company walls everytime and I still think being a corporate slave is admirable!  

That's just me rambling on. Because I can feel in every vein, muscle, and sinew the weight of not living right. There's something missing and the gap is getting wider by the minute. There are times when I'm travelling to work and I'll look at houses, markets, rivers, and bridges and feel a sense of loss. In those profound moments, I can feel my mind drawing sketches and matching them with those I already have inside through years of looking at other houses, markets, rivers, and bridges. They're inanimate, alright. But there is also history written all over them. Time stamps its presence in everything and, sometimes, if you'll look really closely, you can see the quality of the "life" that breathed into those places. And then you begin to question your own.

Quality. Now, even that is a variable - measured by the standards set by individual people. But that's what I long for. I no longer want to experience things just for the sake of having to go through them. Everything has got to mean something. I can see the folly in that, and I guess that's what makes it so hard.

There's this quote I found from an 18th century author, Boscoe Pertwee - "I used to be indecisive, but now I'm not so sure."

Ah, to get old in this bipolar world!