Urgency is a beast (a general ramble)

Ok, I'm terrible at maintaining things. Look no further than the last time I posted a blog. Christmas eve I guess. Interesting that I'm feeling anticipation once again.

I don't really want to die. A shocking statement, I know. It's something that I know you've never heard before. My apologies for blowing your mind. But it's very true for me these days and it has been a growing issue for me. It has felt like a mouse gnawing on a piece of bait on the rotten end of a mousetrap. How many bites can it take before the light at the end of the mouse tunnel beckons?

It's not that I have an impending sense of death and doom. It's just that I have a sense that my life is but a fart in the wind; lingering in my nostrils and those unfortunate to occupy the space around me one moment and floating away the next. That's not to say my life stinks, but it's about as creative as I can get right now. My kids are growing up so fast and I'm growing older at (shockingly) an equal pace. I don't want them to grow up and start junior high, get their drivers license, meet some dashing young man, have kids of their own, experience their first kiss. And I'm ok with the order of life happening something like that, although squeeze a wedding in there please. And yet I really, really DO want them to experience life. I can't wait for them to give life a big kiss and to have it whisper a few secrets. It's just that life is so bloody temporal.

So urgency is a significant term for me these days. I feel a deep need to get important plans with Julie and the girls set in stone. I want to experience something significant with my kids every day that I spend some time with them. And yet, life goes on and with it is the mundane, the ordinary, the necessary. Renovations, house cleaning, paying the bills, etc., all need attention. So how does one balance all this stuff with things that feel much more important?

My co-worker, after I expressed some of my aches and pains to her, suggested that maybe I'm going through an early mid-life crisis. I'm only 35 though, so that doesn't really add up. But let's reconsider. My Dad passed away almost 7 years ago at the tender age of 73. I recall a couple of years ago doing some basic division and coming to the understand that half of 73 is...um...carry the 2...oh yeah 36.5. Hmmmmm. So I'll be 36 in less than a month. Ahah!! So according to my math and my Dad's life expectancy I am basically half-way. I'm thinking this is playing a role in my current dysphoria.

So many guys hitting the mid-lfe crisis it seems want to buy a sports car, get a rug to replace the hair they used to have and live life like they were twenty. I want to quit my job, take my kids out of school and buy an RV to travel the continent. I'm desparate to go to Disney, West Edmonton Mall, and any place else that promises that my dreams will come true. But how incredibly selfish is that? "Hey family, suspend what ever hopes and dreams you have an indulge me in experiencing life as I'm going to dictate it to you!" Who do I think I am?

So how do I live with a sense of urgency while not being a complete nutcase? No answers here yet, but I do know that I need to finish the house renos and clean the toilet. These things don't stop. I think I need to take care of myself from time to time which is something I know is a challenge for me. It's all a very precarious and difficult and almost impossible some days.

By the way, The Time Traveler's Wife is a terrible movie for someone struggling with the brevity of time.

More to come I'm sure...