Another tough day.

.
.
But it will not be an empty one, not completely. A headache is creeping in, the body does ache, and the will is somewhat sapped. My interest, physically, to be active is sapped. But need, my mental will to get things done, and the greater physical activity of late which finds me restive when idle, among possibly other things, no longer allows me to stay seated for too long. As I roam my new frontier, something always catches my eye. A task I have been considering, a chore which should be attended anyway, something out of place or a collection of items not yet sorted, all find my hands laying to work, if work of a more minor nature.

A few eggs were in the offing for breakfast. I have 3 more, so may boil extra this evening. As well, I need to soak beans, I did not get that task completed last night. The wheat has been drained, the wheat rinsed, and the jar containing them placed on a side. Further, I found a recipe for hummus, using dried beans, and they are now soaking for handling tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a tough day for it, as I will be completing the move from storage and going to Church. Still, I felt called to do that task. The cat box has been cleaned. The plants have been watered. And, while stepping out to water the plants, the condition of my yard struck me again, as did the pleasure of being outdoors. Picking up sticks might be done today. Sam will help, I am almost certain. Little bits and pieces like this are being tended and contemplated, if too, pushing too hard or far is not likely to happen.

It is both wonderful and terrifying to be on the edge of this chasm. I know, if I start down it with full force, that it is a never ending line of tasks until the day I die. There is no rest down there, only moments with which to catch a breath. My life, for the last two decades, has been just the opposite. Work being a thing I use to refresh my ability to breath easier with. Everything I think and do will change. I am not sure at this point if I can stop the change. I am not sure I want to stop it. But I do have a deep fear. Fundamentally, it has been this fear which has kept me back.

I have looked at this basic underlying problem. But, like a cubic foot of water in some sort of separated suspended place where it may still be felt, manipulated, and studied, the form and reality of it is perplexing. As a people, we have developed words and ideas to attempt to name it. We have created whole schools of thought to try and tame our fear of it. Those are just about as useful as the theory of dark matter is currently though and in truth. They fill a void we fear and do not know.

I suppose it has something to do with a lack of faith in all things of flesh. I know everything here changes, grows, dies. I know no truth can be had here, we are not capable of truth, not full complete truth. I think our minds would overload and our hearts would stop if we were to suddenly face truth. Actually, I think to a greater degree that is what death is to a degree. There are many aspects to this difficulty. Like water has physical characteristics, observable and objective properties, chemical properties, and yet is simply what it is. So too this... whatever it is.

Anyway, I am not sure I can avoid the properties of this problem interfering with the solution. It is the immovable object, in my life, being confronted by the unstoppable force. That is what is happening. One or the other will give way, and this causes no small fear. I may break. Some aspect of me has to break. Will this kill me? I am dying no matter what I do. But do I want to drown in a river, over my head in the waters of life, bashed against rocks of hard labor and an intractable world, running to my last breath in a race I cannot win? Or do I want to quietly, silently, painlessly, drift under the current without but a gurgle and maybe a start as I realize my time is done?

Yes, perhaps deep. Perhaps too deep. Perhaps childish machinations that matter not a whit in the end. But that is where today leads me, as I sense I can neither stop what has started, comprehend how I got here, decipher the future, or even understand what has been holding me back. I will say death is near. My death. I am not sure if it is here like a vulture, merely waiting for the inevitable no matter what I do. Or if it is here to see why I will not be visiting with it as soon as was slated. Is it pushing me in one direction or another. I simply know that death is near.

Whatever the case, I cannot stop now. If for no other reasons, I have things to do. Things I want to do, things I am obligated to do, things I need to do, things I simply am doing. I know like few other times in my life that my hands are not my own. I know to Whom I have placed control over them. I feel, and perhaps even see, the strings. And yet, not all of them nor the future. Perhaps the death I sense is for me, perhaps it is for some aspect of who I was, perhaps it is here to threaten me back to that easy life and death.

Too much. I have... things to do... A few aspirin might help the body. I might even take a short nap. But more will be done, the treadmill of life has been purchased, brought home, set up, and I am addicted now. There is no choice regardless of my fear. And this, too, I think, is good.

Perhaps a few pictures might help. Of how I feel and what I hope? Yes.






Later.