When you are young, there’s so much to see, do, try, that you don’t really notice that “the times, they are a-changing” even if you can actually say it, and you believe you know what you’re on about. I remember the song by Simon and Garfunkel, [make that Bob Dylan] and I also know that “their” times (which coincided with my times exactly), they weren’t a- changing all that much. In fact they were poised on the deepest reverse plunge into Status Quo, conservative, endless-war politics the world of man may have ever experienced. A bit of money, a bit more of drugs, make ‘em believe they actually ended a war and you’ve got ‘em, right back where they came from and even deeper into the man’s pocket.
All that’s changed. I’m what you would have called “old” a half century ago, and the times are certainly a-changing, not because of climate change, not from a global societal perspective, but from a unique, personal one. For the first time ever, the times are a-changing because I have changed, and I am changing. Old has its privileges, if one dares face them and take them. Old also has its responsibility – not to the planet, not to society, not to posterity, but to the self. There is no time left to try to be the crowd pleaser, or the change agent. Those days are gone, and any truly introspective old-timer knows innately that such things mean nothing and lead nowhere.
Let me ask: I’m at the finish line. How did I get there? By myself because I would not let “society” force me to conform to its sense of propriety, of reality according to its collective understanding. And now that I’m at the finish line, let’s see, who’s volunteering to cross it with me? I’m betting, not one. Not one, simply because according to the rules, no one can cross that line. It’s the one line you cross alone.
Knowing that; accepting that, what’s left to think about? Well, let’s see… how about the future? According to the best understanding anyone has, there are no ending, only new beginnings. We come to the end of one game, one life (so-called) and based on how we played that game, lived that life, and whether we thought reaching the goal was the whole thing, the end-game, or we believed “someone” would reach down a mighty hand of love and scoop up our soul to heaven, or we believe in some unfathomable continuity, now we have to decide how to act. Drop dead? Play at some pretend humility we never expressed during the game before some strange deity? Or stand on the platform with the train pulling in the station, check our credentials and ticket one last time and turn smartly to get on board bound for, who knows where, but ready for it?
I’ll tell you. I’m in that minority that, for whatever reason, “knows” I’ll be the one standing on that platform at the train station. I choose for my life not to end in meaninglessness, as so many are willing to do now, having let their religious disillusion get the better of them. I definitely choose not to become a member of some exclusive club in some heaven as an eternal eunuch to serve cocktails for megalomaniacal gods. Meaning, I have learned what it means to be a self-empowered “human” being.
To the world of man as you are today, whether you survive yourself or finally manage to wipe yourself out, thanks for all the challenges.
And one more thing, just for the record: No Regrets. All is forgiven, including me.
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