Driving around…

The day is rapidly approaching when nothing will matter. I say this not from disparagement but rather in response to the forceful reality of change and decay. In the lead-up to the end of Universe (at least as I know it to be) the once seductive allure of people, things and events is diminishing. The evolution is for the most part welcome – no doubt a collateral to the adage that Nature teaches us how to die. Characterizing the transmogrification as distillation perhaps enables a less wistful result. Personally I prefer the limitations of old age, what for me facilitate both tranquillity and clarity. After a lifetime of agenda, necessity and planning it is a welcome revision to deal only with what is at hand and with what naturally captivates my focus or interest.

Assessment of currency or the past is remarkably similar notwithstanding the critical change of habit and employment. What stimulates our productivity and entertainment likely hasn’t altered as significantly as we might feel bound to advance. It is for this reason that the intensity of the present only brightens the view of what we do or possess. But there is little if any palpable alteration of the substance of our existence. Nor is this a disappointment. Comprehending the intelligence or corporeal signals which routinely ornament one’s existence is no small undertaking. It is akin to the caution about overlooking the strength of what daily surrounds us.

We have a tradition of absorption of the immediate. To my knowledge I have never yearned for an environment other than the one I am in. Whatever novelty or putative hindrance distinguishes the present is no anchor to the future. Though we become inured to habit and custom we nonetheless retain an appetite for change albeit a so-called dilution. As a matter of logic it captures my amusement to consider insinuation or improvement of whatever constitutes the present. This is no license for mere accommodation; it is instead a sign post for new direction.

There is no room for lapse into the past. Recovering antiquities of any nature is at best an archeological platitude. The imperative instead is what confronts the day. In some cases the dilemmas of life own no more thrust than we’re willing or prepared to attribute to them. Certain things and occurrences can be manipulated. What cannot be changed is a steadfast beauty mark or blemish.