Sunday Morning Thoughts: 10.13.19

Time, and the timing of things, events, circumstance- a fascinating, empowering and crippling side effect of the constitution of existence. Yours, mine, ours. Or just the whole thing all together.

Good timing… oh, what a thing, right?

And how about a good time? Love me a few of those.

The right timing of a person entering into your realm of consciousness, or someone walking into your life- well that, right there, that’s the sort of stuff that can make marriages, careers, revolutions and the sort. Big, powerful things that weigh so perfectly that they can affect and effect every little and big thing around a whole person’s identity. Fiber of being, sort of deal. And depending on the person, those effects can ripple out as small a just next door, or to the whole fucking planet.

Then, there’s bad timing. Being late. Being last. Being the one that wasn’t chosen. Missed chances and opportunities that leave one in a world of that which they didn’t desire, or at least not the one they had hoped for most of all. Living knowing the options you craved are now beyond your grasp. And the worst curse of all bad timing is the thought that were the timing good, everything would be perfect. Can get toxic, quick. Wonder about what if’s until you’re sick in mind and body and spirit, and so on.

And a bad time? We’ve all had those, I’m surely certain. And those that haven’t, perhaps yours is yet to come. Or, you be just far too clueless to know it has already occurred.

I find myself coming off a spell of good timing. A move to a new and far more satisfying habitat, paired with a good stretch of time off from work. A very nice combination. It is something (particularly after the life I’ve been leading for the last half decade or so) to be able to sleep until you wake up for a few days in a row. No forced removal from unconsciousness. Just up when you’re up, and that’s that.

Some would say something like that ‘recharges your batteries’.

I, being who I am, would say it does the opposite. It lets my batteries run all the way down. Live life to something closer to stillness than combustion. A lack of motion. The sort of thing that works better towards a reset. A shutdown. A proper reboot.


It takes energy to make energy. And though the zen of inactivity has afforded me some sort of fresh canvas on life, it goes on no longer. Back to work, as they say. And good thing, too. That stillness turns to stagnant quick enough. If you were me, at least.

Being back to that work place where my income is actually earned has been nice. It helps that I do love my job. Worked all the nights this weekend. And where it used to, we’ll say, ‘bum me out’, to see all those peers or near peers of mine reveling about whilst I conduct myself in accordance with a night tour of my employment- it feels as though that feeling is past the first point of fade.

The young going out all the time because they’re young and they have to go out was once something I felt I must be part of. I have found, and perhaps I knew it all along, that if there isn’t a good enough reason for something, it shouldn’t be done and to force one’s self into aggressive and inebriated environments without any benevolence towards cause, well, that just seems kind of stupid, doesn’t it? And what would you get from it? A headache and the lingering taste of some stranger that had all your brain cells been firing you would have never gone near?

Doesn’t seem worth it.

But I am not a proponent of total sobriety and hermitdom. I just know, after making mistakes and the sort, what it is that I like and that which I do not. You start to learn what makes up a good time. And that which makes a mad one, as well.

I used to think my lot in life contained some bad timing. Maybe it has. Or maybe, it has taken time to see that circumstance were better for setting up something grander than that which I thought would be.  And were the other options enticed into my existence, perhaps suffering would be the only thing to grow from there.

Or it’s acceptance. Not quite the alcoholic type, but almost.

And so, the timing that was good most recently sat upon the eve of turning bad, just as it concluded. It is good to be running and rambling and engaging with the rest of the species again. Vital, even.

And because of good timing and a rather sizeable wealth of effort, I have my retreat for when the chaos of being human in the world becomes a bit too much. Which inevitably, it will. Always does.

The vague plans of what it next are becoming more specific and the next part of the timeline inches into view.

Stay tuned.

Or don’t. Life is all about choices.  

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