When I lived in Omaha, Nebraska, there was a saying, “If you don’t like the weather, just wait fifteen minutes”.
Most of my life has been like that. Sometimes I find it difficult to follow all the events, so I’m not terribly surprised when other people lose track. It’s been a good run, and of all the places I thought I would find myself, this may be the last I might have imagined.
I still think I deserve something.
I don’t know what it might be, I just know this isn’t it.
I had plans, they changed with the wind, I adapted. It got to be something of a game, “well then adapt to this” life would say, I would just laugh and carry on.
I never felt I had a great deal of support, so I supported others. I never wanted anyone to feel the way I felt, an outsider trying to make others feel they belong. I did a lot of good things, and at least my share of bad things.
I just always suspected the most interesting thing about me was my unique point of view. I could see what escaped everyone else, the butterfly flapping its wings, creating a wave in the air that would alter the weather in another hemisphere. I was never famous and told myself I didn’t want to be. As much as I hate lies that may have been one.
I do like attention, but was always able to be satisfied with the attention of one person. I spent a big chunk of my life finding that person, and was left with nothing but a jar of ashes and memories. I just laughed and carried on. That’s not true you know, there wasn’t much laughter, the balance had swung to the other side. I still tried to make everyone else laugh.
Some folks don’t want to. That’s “outside my purview”, as one kindly old chief once told me. They have their path, I have mine.
And mine appears to be winding to an end. My ability to roll with the changes is wearing thin, I’m feeling my age and remembering I never wanted to be this old. I want something to call my own and I’m realizing I’ve given everything away. The little bits and pieces that are left are not adequate to represent a life. Certainly not a life that always managed to be at the right place at the right time. That talent evades me now.
Rejection is only devastating when you have nothing left to hold on to, which is where I find myself this morning. An anchor rather than a buoy. I had hoped to at least carry this blog for a year, an arbitrary span of time tied to an orbit, close enough to another anniversary to derive some sense of accomplishment. But in the end meaningless vanity.
The weight is just more than I can carry right now, someone else will have to do it.