Every day
Every second
Getting older
And what am I doing? Age brings complacency. Age allows us to lay our dreams to rest. Age acts as fertilizer, supplementing regret. All those 'what abouts'’ and '‘could have beens,'’ growing in our gardens.
And then there are the dreams of children. Little Joey wants to be a baseball player. Mikey, a firefighter. And Amy wants to be an astronaut.
But something happens as we get older. Our ship begins to sail farther and farther from the pier. Some of us keep our eyes trained on the shrinking dock, not wanting to lose sight of it, but others already have -- and they don't seem to mind. Their fleeting dreams have become nothing more than a romantic notion, a nice thought, a goal to be achieved out of convenience --– and convenience only.
The tides force a decision from us. Do we give up and ride the ship, letting the waves determine our destination? Or do we jump over the edge and risk certain danger, swimming against the tides in an effort (and possibly a vain one) to reach the pier where it all began, the dreams of a child?
Many times I'm content with simply living. Being. Experiencing. Since I'’ve discovered G-d, finding peace has become much easier. The subtle joy of a rainfall fills me with reason, a sense of purpose...A midnight's gentle breeze...The chirping of birds...The smile of a child. Sometimes at night, I'll stare at a tree'’s shadow, broadcast by a street lamp onto my bedroom wall. I can'’t explain it, but there'’s something soothing about that shadow slowly swaying in the breeze. The Invisible Force giving animation to the silhouette. And I'’m filled with an indescribable peace.
But there's also the artist inside of me. And the artist is restless. Irritated. Unsatisfied with my idle hands. This silhouette is still.
My desire to pen a screenplay remains. Past entries to this blog remind me that I once was crawling with creative energy --– and a drive. Where did the inspiration go? What am I waiting for? Where is my Lee Krasner to give me a kick in the ass?
Lately, most of my spare time has been spent reading and studying Judaism. My thirst for Judaic knowledge is unwavering. Don'’t mistake me, that reading/study time is deeply satisfying but occasionally my conscience is troubled by the loose ends, creatively speaking.
Ironically, next to the tree'’s shadow on my bedroom wall, I have a quote from Ed Harris regarding his work on the film Pollock. It reads:
"This is impossible. I'’d been working on this thing for ten years and there'’s no way I'’m going to be able to make this movie, but what are you going to do? Sit there and cry or get up and finish it? So I kept working at it."”
I'm getting older. I'’ll be 28 in a few weeks and The Fear has been visiting me rather frequently lately. The Fear: Being that single man in his 30s, home alone with TV dinners and sitcoms, choking on regret, stuck on those 'what abouts'’ and '‘could have beens.'’
As you age, it gets easier and easier to give up and simply pass your dreams on to someone else, someone younger, someone less jaded, less cynical.
I don't want to be that man. I
won'’t be that man. It'’s time to stop crying, jump ship and start working.
mc
