Dumbstruck

Now that I'm firmly locked back into my submarine, I'm thinking maybe I should stop blogging. Or at least, all elements that include self-reflection, intimations of weakness and chinks in the armour, any personal thoughts that don't fit in with everything being fine, fine, fine.

On the one hand, even considering the possiblity of not being totally dandy and breezy at all times may compromise the impermeability of the vacuum pack. On the other hand, maybe I will only be able to maintain a decent facade if I have some sort of opportunity to write out all the stuff that won't be coming out any other way. I wonder whether it's true that the unexamined life is not worth living, or whether it's better take the advice in the song and keep on dancing through life ("life is painless, for the brainless...")

I'm not sure what's best.  I was also repelled by a website I looked at last week, which was so self-obsessed and self-aggrandising it made me retch. Then when I'd finished retching it made me think this blog is like that too. Me me me me me. Blah blah blah blah blah. Zzzzzz.

Notwithstanding. I suppose I might as well blog while I'm deciding.  I am feeling autumnal and reflective. Lots of time to think.  And this is what made me think that too much thinking might not be good.

I was away for two weeks and three of my friends lost a parent. I'm forty-four. I was going to say, perhaps half way through my life. But realistically given the givens, more like two thirds,four-fifths, nine-tenths? I'm not where I wanted to be in a lot of ways. No books written. Every day I look more dreadful. I have pleasures: the girls, my friends..... The girls are growing up.....I am growing older and uglier by the moment, it appears.......what will there be to look forward to? Not next week, or the week after, but in the longer run?

I am afraid that if I wait for the right juncture to start the next stage of my life, I will find that I've run out of time.  That this now is all that I will have.  It's all just there, beyond my fingertips, so near and yet not attainable...

"Ah but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?" Good question. And if like me you're concerned about this life, here and now, there is no easy answer.