Over the Hump

"Lookin' pretty grey," he said as we rolled along the river trail, the route used by cyclists no longer fast enough to ride with traffic out there in the real world.

He had not seen me in a while, so the observation held water. I forget that I am getting on in years. Reminders like his still come as a bit of icy water to the face.

This slide into late mid life is not what I thought it would be. I thought that by now I would be content with my lot as a has been, washed-up, decrepit old fart. I thought it would be time for beer and TV and collapse into cardiac shut down.

Unfortunately, I am still hot and hungry for life. I want to be free, sharp, focused, and deep into some form of creative self-expression. I want to be in love. It's a bit self-centered and narcissistic I know. Also I don't know for sure if I have the talent to produce anything worth someone else's attention.

And my work life is not over yet. I am supposed to be grading papers, revising assignments, making calls, scheduling meetings, and on and on. So this life I want is on hold, private, and a stewing secret for now.

As I gain momentum on this the later season of my life, I wonder if I will ever get there, to that place where I conduct the music I hear in my heart, narrate the story I compose in my dreams.