I was gonna title this post: “You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby” y’know, like the Virginia Slims cigarette ads. But then I realized that that just isn’t me anymore. It seems apropos that I write this post during the Christian season of Lent, for I am officially alone now, still getting used to the stillness of a quiet room. Coming to terms with it means that I can no longer avoid the inevitable; I can no longer put off the introspection that comes with loss and longing.
The Meaning of Life:
People much smarter than I have attempted to describe in grave (pardon the pun) detail what it means to be a being in the world. They’ve debated, researched, analyzed every angle, every EVERYthing and still we’re no more closer to reaching a definitive conclusion about it than we were centuries ago. It is first and foremost on the minds of Philosophers who still are quibbling over the semantics (i.e. how do we define the meaning behind the term, ‘meaning’?). So far the general consensus is that every individual must a) live b) divine their own sense of purpose for themselves c) realize, like Neo in The Matrix, that “there is no spoon”.
“It’s Like 10,000 Spoons When All You Need Is A Knife” ~ Alanis Morissette:
I know that the only way to discover what my life and what my true purpose entails is by taking ownership of my past (the good, the bad, the ugly–all of it) and to learn to enjoy what’s left. I’ve become so used to the chaos, that I’ve forgotten what I built and what I truly need. Turns out that I am a simple pimple: I do like quiet moments alone to read, reflect, pray. I remember all of the things I truly enjoyed and the ones I denied myself are no longer being ignored. This is all that I’ve suffered long and hard for and I’m beginning to shine the light on.
All It Takes Is Finding The Right Door And Walking On Through:
I still miss Pete but I’ve come to an understanding about Death. I don’t like that guy coming to dinner unannounced, but I know that he visits everybody sooner or later. It’s not like I’m giving him an extra place-setting, but he’s as regular as Aunt Flo (and just as naggy). Guess I’m gonna hafta live with it.
Every now and then, I hear footsteps & the sound of my printer going on for no apparent reason. Who? I’ll give you one guess…