Playing for Time

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We’re a little socked in this morning, with our parking lot lights still on at 10am. It likely rained through the night, possibly a snow mix, I didn’t wake up to check. Winter is inexorably coming to us, taking its time, dawdling, teasing, scattering rain, snow, ice, and cold temps along the way as early warnings. That’s okay, I’m more than ready for my cozy warm house and many snow days that “strand” me here on my little island.

I read an article this morning about journaling and how beneficial it is as we age, leaving me thankful that I’ve kept up a journaling habit for most of my life while it gradually became an industrial-strength necessity. I’m not sure how I feel sometimes until I see my own words, and then I watch in a sort of wonder as the knots unravel and the angst subsides for whole long moments. It’s a very healing exercise, partly because I can spot a phony at 30 paces and I’ve been onto THIS ol’ girl for a while now, making it increasingly hard for me to lie to her. It always makes me happy when someone tells me they keep a journal, however sporadic they may be about it. It’s all about self care.

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You get a lot of melancholy from me, so I owe it to you, here at the end of 2023, to let you know that despite outward circumstances life feels better than it has in some time. It’s been a productive year; we’ve made purposeful improvements to our surroundings, our routines, and our attitudes; we’ve dared to look ahead and consider where we might want to be this time next year. As the scary dip into fascist waters continues, we can’t ignore what’s taking place outside our doors… but neither can it be allowed to determine the color of our days. We aren’t old yet, but we’re starting to see the detritus at the outer suburbs as we holla “Wait! It isn’t time yet, I’m not ready, I’ve only been here a little while and I HAVE SO MUCH LEFT TO DO!” Not a desperate plea, simply a statement of fact, laced with excitement and incentive. A knowing that it’s all Now or Never at this point, let’s get to it. My grandmothers, both amazing women, lived past 95 with minds intact along with their inner youthfulness, so by that standard I’m still in my prime.

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Tonight the two most recent teams to win the National College Basketball Championship will play each other in Allen Fieldhouse, mere blocks from our fireplace and comfy chairs. The #4 Connecticut Huskies and the #5 Kansas Jayhawks will face off while this poetic little soul celebrates the drama of it all. No matter what the word on the street is, life’s okay. Let’s all try to hang in long enough to see how the story ends. 💙