I figured I’d take Hemingway’s advice and edit this later.
Six months. Nearly six months of isolation. Weirdly, I feel fine. In fact, I’ve liked the focused downtime to work on things I care about. There’s a season for everything, and this is my season of renewal. My season of innovation. My season of hope. It’s not that I don’t feel the pain. I’ve done my best to listen and learn. To give and help where I’m able. But I’ve also felt the paralysis and loss of words amongst those who are loud and certain of so many things. I remember when I used to be certain about so many things. Now, the only thing I’m certain about is Christ crucified. But it’s a good one to be certain about, I suppose. And its implications are far and deep.
I know one thing though: I don’t want to be mouthy or loud. I have been those things, and I always regret being those things…mostly because they aren’t actually helpful. Also, the “him who is without sin” thing is relevant here. Who among us isn’t a shit human being deep down inside? That doesn’t mean I won’t say true things. I will say them as best I can, but I will not say them to be right. In fact, anytime I’m saying anything to simply be right, I hope I catch myself in already being wrong.
The stoics have been good for me. They might be good for everyone, but I can’t say that for sure. All I know is that learning to manage my emotions is one of the most immensely helpful things I’ve ever learned. I get to decide if it hurts me. I get to decide what I feel. I get to decide what meaning to assign to those feelings. I mean all of this in the most Christian way possible. My being offended is up to me. I wonder if more women need to learn this. Maybe I should write about stoicism for women. If only we could all learn to respond rather than react and to not let feelings and personal offenses cloud our judgment and prioritization of truth. If only.
Today is my birthday. 41.
That sounds incredibly old, but I don’t feel it. I remember when my parents turned 40, and it felt like a lifetime away. I remember thinking, “Man, they’re old.” And here I’ve just passed that milestone in no time at all. How is life so short? And in pandemic time, how is life so long?
Sometimes I start to feel like 2020 has been a waste, but then I remind myself that I’m getting to know people differently, talking on lots of projects, finding time to rest, and allowing myself to build actual routines. This time isn’t for nothing, and I’ll regret not using it wisely. That’s why I’m digging in every single day. That said, my clarity isn’t what it used to be, and having two friends who just lost their fathers reminds me that life is fleeting. And slowly, but surely, we’ll all lose our faculties and eventually die. Memento mori. I think it’s Palahniuk who says the goal isn’t to live forever but to build something that does. What are you building that will last? What are you doing that is truly meaningful?
I want to build something that lives on well beyond me. I want to make an impact that echoes through eternity. But also, right now: I just want to eat brownies and drink this bottle of wine because it’s my birthday.