Until recently, when asked how things were in my life, I’d say (only one quarter in jest): “Oh, you know, circling the drain.” This has been a knee jerk response for several years now, revealing either a very clogged drain, or a perfect storm of aging, mild depression, and a changing world that challenges my comfort zone.
Lately the throttle has shifted and I am (while not soaring in a cloudless sky of blue) actually in the air. Sputtering a bit, but–yes–flying! By the seat of my pants.
Which is okay. Really. After all, my pants are old favorites: well worn, shrink-to-fit Levis, so that says something right there. Still, comfort is found in strange places. We acclimate to all manner of moods and situations, where even pain and discomfort can become the norm. There is a real danger in becoming complacent in our own personal swamps.
I am not sure how my hand decided to grip that throttle and shift gears. Perhaps I got tired of the repeated perceived crisis > anxiety > result being not the end of the world. I was still standing.
I’ve started seeing the glass as half-full again, just like the old days. Looking back, that must have been before September 11, 2001. It helps to try and understand psychologically why we are the way we are, but even that doesn’t guarantee positive change. I am not sure if I believe that “Time heals everything” or if I am “Another day older and deeper in debt.”
I just know that my positive thoughts want to become my reality. The moments I choose to inhabit in the present will guide me; those spent dwelling in the past or worrying about the future will send me on detours. Will keep me in the swamp.
Creative passions still claim my attention at age 61, perhaps even more strongly than when I was 31. Flying by the seat of my pants allows me to see not only what depths I’ve visited, but what heights I intend to reach.
Illustration credit unknown, or I’d love to credit the artist/ask permission/pay! *Free (i.e. devalued) art* on the internet is part of what has kept me, a career illustrator, in such a tailspin. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog post.