The Numbers Game

As far as numbers go, when it comes to our age there are only so many “good ones” according to society, and society has dictated that they are all in the first quarter of our life!!! Imagine that. The only ages that are made out to be exciting are 13, 16, 21, and maybe 25 so you can lower your insurance premiums if you’re a guy. And then? It’s all downhill from there. 

So what do those numbers really signify? I guess it would be a type of freedom- considered a grown up, to be taken seriously, to be valued, to be considered old enough to get behind the wheel of a car, to drink alcohol, or to have a few years of experience under your belt. 

So now that we are older (with lots of experience) we should view each year with just as much excitement and anticipation of opportunity than ever before. We have acquired all the freedom we need, and we acquired it long ago.  Nothing to stand in our way.

But it is such a double-edged sword - we feel blessed that we get to live a long life and yet cursed that we are getting older. Something has to give here and I believe it’s our old attitude that insists we identify with a number. From our Driver’s license (and the usually hideous picture that does along with it) every application or health form we fill out, to the candles on the birthday cake-we are constantly being reminded of that benchmark - it is all about identifying us with a number.

We’ve been conditioned to believe we should look, feel, and act according to the number on our birth certificate. Imagine for a minute if you didn’t know how many years you’ve been on the planet, you have no idea. Would that maybe change the way you think about your life today or the things you want to do tomorrow? Do you think some roadblocks would be lifted? I do. 

But of course I am very well aware of my age, as I am my changing face, body, and attitude, but what I don’t know for a fact is how long I will be here on the planet. So age is actually irrelevant. It really only matters if you know the end date. That’s when you truly know how “old” you are.

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The Changing Tide

I've been in Portland now for almost two weeks and moved into my little place last Monday. I only had one very full car load of my things with me, so the unpacking was quick, but the putting away was another story.  Does anyone need this many toiletries?  This many black t-shirts?  Moving makes you want to toss out just about everything you own.

The day I arrived, after driving for 10 hours, I pulled into Portland around 6:30, it was dark and my windshield was spotted with rain.  I expected that.  As I drove further north the lights of the city came into view.  It was magical and electric and I could feel the excitement of the city.

But since I've been here my emotions are as changing as the tide ~ one minute I feel a swell of excitement and adventure and the next I just want to throw myself down on the bed and cry into the pillow, "What am I doing here?"  I don't know.  I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  I just want to close my eyes, click my feet together, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home."  Only problem is, I don't know where that is anymore.  Maybe I am home.

Nobody knows what the future holds, as much as we try, as many fortune cookies as we read, as many psychics and astrologers that we consult, we have free will, we make decisions and we never ever know for sure what would have been if we had taken that other fork in the road.  We just have to have faith that we are walking the right one.  Change is a difficult thing, even when those changes are for the good, positive, in the right direction.  It is still hard to leave that what we know behind.  But there comes a time when we have to let go of what was, what we thought could have been, because after holding on so tight and our hands are worn raw, we realize there is nothing left to hold on to.

I mentioned before that there is a tale in Hawaii that when it rains on the day you depart, the island is crying for you.  Well, what I am holding on to now is the hope that when it rains in Portland on your arrival, it is showering you with endless blessings.

I"ll learn to live without you,
but I'll never learn how not to love you