I was never any good at physics. In fact, the only science or math-related subject I ever excelled in was biology, so when laws of physics and time disregard what I've always been taught, it always trembles the ground under my shoes (sometimes in fear, sometimes in wonderment, and sometimes in rage). I just celebrated my 52nd birthday, and it has given me much to consider, both philosophically and in terms of physics. As I grow older, a luxury not afforded to all (if you know, you know), I have noticed that it has become increasingly difficult to navigate both matters of the body and matters of the heart lately. However, I persist! My relationship with my body has become like that of a landlord and recalcitrant tenant--it refuses to pay, I threaten to evict, etc. Both of us know we are bluffing. I have bullied my body into a grudgingly-consistent regimen, adding several "lifting days" to my running schedule (yes, I still run as often as I can. My runs are slower and shorter, but, damn it all if they aren't a satisfying way to clear my head). While at the gym on the 29th of JUNE (!!!!!) with the row of televisions torturing the patrons with Fox News and CNN in direct, audible competition and tantalizing them with the occasional Applebee's or Mr. Hero commercial (we are a sick, sick species, indeed), I had my psyche positively assaulted by the first of many commercials for...dun dun DUNNNNNN..."Back to School".
Seriously? June?
Don't get me wrong. I am absolutely loving my current job and school and students and colleagues and even BOSSES. It has been ages since I taught without counting down the days between breaks or dreading February. I look forward to going to work, and thinking about the number of years before I can even afford to think about retiring no longer causes paper bag-inhaling panic attacks...
...HOWEVER, advertising for school supplies in June is, as my students last year would say, "a hard pass", and I can understand why. It got me thinking about how time, or at least humanity's relationship with time, has changed, and continues to change ever more every year, it seems.
- We see school supply commercials in June.
- There is already Halloween candy in the stores now, in July.
- I will start seeing pumpkin spice EVERYTHING (and don't get me started on that totally separate issue) in August, if not before.
- I know that it's only a matter of weeks before people start gearing up for Christmas, practically skipping over Thanksgiving.
- Now, it's perfectly fine to be excited and look forward to things. However, I have always believed, and I believe even more now, that looking TOO forward to things contracts time into smaller chunks and pushes you through the things you enjoy, even as it prevents your ability to enjoy them fully.
This is the first birthday in a long time that I spent alone--my mother is back in Canada, I am recovering from strep throat, so it is dangerous to be around my immunocompromised brother, and my ex-husband and I have peacefully and diplomatically decided not to try to force a faux-friendship--so things were quite different this year. My birthday gift to myself this year was a Radiohead LP (Kid A--my "Autumn album" that I hypocritically played in the middle of summer). It provided the soundtrack as I folded laundry, cleaned my bathroom, and cooked myself a filet mignon for my birthday dinner.
"In a little while/I'll be gone/The moment's already passed/Yeah, it's gone." Such beautiful words that perfectly encapsulate my frustration with others' urges to speed through their lives. Life is already fast and short enough. The image of my kitties, sleeping at my feet as I blew out the single candle on my single piece of birthday cake, stole my lungs tonight as I contemplated just how little time I have left in my own life, let alone in theirs. I felt so grateful for every stupid little thing, that I thought to myself, "This is not such a bad life, after all."
...oh...the cat mug is also a present I bought for myself this year. Happy birthday to me.
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