Aged Out...

I went by our old house today. I wanted to see if the seeds that fell from my Morning Glories last year had grown this year. They hadn't. It made me think that there was no mark left now of us living there. Which made me glad and sad at the same time.

And it's fitting for this week's theme. 

I am always torn between feeling like I should do something to make a mark on this world and taking great comfort in the fact that I am an insignificant piece of dust in the grand scheme of things.

When I was younger I often leaned toward the "I should do something" mark. But it was always "I should" not "I want to" which I think most of the people who do major things that we all remember or are changed because of fall into the "I want to "category. Because you really need to be driven to do that. You can make a difference for a few people just by being kind or helpful or generous but that's not the same as those people who are really driven to DO SOMETHING, MAKE A MARK, BE REMEMBERED!

I don't expect to be remembered past one, maybe two generations. 

And I really do like that. 

It brings me a lot of comfort to not matter in the grand scheme of things. I mean, don't get me wrong, and please don't think this is some sort of "pay attention to me" whine. I know that I deeply matter to a handful of people. But in the big picture I am not that significant. And I like that. 

When I came back to work for the advertising agency after being gone for a few years I kept a picture next to my desk. It was from a pitch they did while I was living in Colorado. Everyone who worked in the agency was in the picture. A "we are all here for you" thing. I wasn't in the picture. I kept it by my desk because I wasn't in that picture. I wasn't there and the agency was just fine without me. It kept me from thinking I was indispensable. It reminded me that I wasn't my job and they would all be fine if I left. It wasn't my responsibility to keep the place afloat by working too many hours and putting too much of myself into the place.

I took great comfort in knowing that I was not that important. Because sometimes we get really wrapped up in thinking that what we are doing is so important that if we don't do it the world will collapse and it will all be our fault so we really need to keep working even though we are sick or tired or really would rather be hanging out with our families eating bon bons.

It was a good reminder that I was a speck of dust in the universe.

Now, when I left the agency the second time they went bankrupt within a year and the whole thing collapsed but that's not my fault. (it really wasn't, but it's kind of funny to add on there after talking about how they were fine without me)

When I was younger I thought I wanted to write books. Like hold them in my hands physical books. And I would try, over and over again, to get that done. I would force myself to do outlines and take seminars and do NaNoWriMo and...then I realized that I really like to write. I love when you all give me feedback on my writing, especially when you like my fiction. I REALLY like that. But, I don't need to publish. I don't need to have a book to show for it. In fact I really don't want to have to work like that. This was a recent discovery. Because I knew that if you were a writer what you really wanted was to be published. But that's not my dream. What I want is to be read. What I want is to talk to people about ideas I post in these rambling blogs and entertain them with the fiction posts. And I get that with my blog. 

Now, maybe someday I'll change my mind again and think I want to be published, but for now at least, I know that what I like is writing. I don't need to make a bigger mark than that. I don't need something that will be around after I'm gone.

Being a speck of dust in the universe takes the pressure off. It frees you up to live your life without as much worry. Yes, I'm going to fuck up sometimes, but that's okay. In the grand scheme of things it's not even a blip on the timeline. I'm just not that important. It's like the comfort I take from the fact that there is no afterlife. I don't have to worry about eternity after I die any more than I am aware of anything that happened before I was born. I'm a blip. And I'm really happy with that.

....

One last small bit about aging since this will be the last July blog. August was for a few years my celebration all month Birthday Month which turned into Cake and Compliments Month. I tried really hard last year to recapture that feeling. That joyful bounce of ending and starting a new year. But I can't eat the cake anymore and I hope that one of the things you've taken from being my friend or being my reader is that you should always give the compliment no matter what month it is so there is no need for Cake and Compliments Month.

But honestly it's mostly that I can't shake that feeling of August being the month my mother spent weeks dying. 

I don't know how long it will take or if that feeling will ever fade. 

Birthday Month rebranded into Cake and Compliments Month had a good 15 year run but I'm putting it aside. I'm okay with that. I really am. 

Part of this aging thing is that I do my best to accept people where they are. And that includes me. And where I am is August is kind of a melancholy month for now. It sort of fits with the heat and the end of summer sluggishness anyway. It's okay to feel your feels. Even for insignificant pieces of cosmic dust like myself.