I honestly forgot what day it was. I’m on vacation and the days have begun to blur… plus, there are so many cogs whirring in the background I’m beginning to feel like I’m caught inside a clock and time is outside pressing in.
I’m being vague, but life is in motion for me, and mine. I’ll explain more, probably next week. For now? I’m going down the road less traveled. Behind me, the intersection has already vanished into the mists of time, the way they do. You can’t go back. You can only go forward. Onward, upward, and further in.
Lewis’s Last Battle made less sense to me as a young reader than it does now. As I am on the peak of middle aged (genetically speaking for myself) and looking at the long downhill slide into senescence. Lewis bears re-reading. Which I need to make time for. The rest of this month is controlled chaos. At least, I’m hoping to keep it controlled!
The last battle, the one with time, and age. The slow erosion of ability. Of memory (I’m so sorry I didn’t post on time!). Of mental elasticity. We embrace change as a young person. We avoid it and dread it as we get older. But change is necessary.
Change makes a story worth reading. Change makes a life worth living. Even if it is painful for a season. Less painful to read, at least. And we learn from what we read. We can recognize mistakes and avoid them, as modeled by fictional characters. Including what happens to the unchanging human who refuses to grow, and transform as life flows around them.
I’ll pick up writing once the flood-tide of life ebbs a bit. In the meantime, I’m picking up story ideas. Because that’s what writers do with the tsunami of life when it threatens to drown them in chaos.