This Time
My embrace of the night of two sleeps is playing hell with my mornings. I used to be up at 5:30. Then it slipped to six. Nowadays it’s coming in around 7 or even 7:30. Sometimes I feel like a wastrel. Squandering time by lying about. But I know that time is not really mine to squander, it’s just there to use, and perhaps in the time between my sleeps I now should consider some semi-useful activity.
And the more I think about it, I believe I will give that a try. There’s no one here for me to disturb by getting up at 2 or 3 to wander about. Since I’m up and thinking, perhaps I should take notes. It might actually prove invigorating. Perhaps I’ll keep a little diary of my nighttime musings, although I’ll confess right now, they usually tend to the catastrophic. But it might be a nice way to bring them to light then put them to rest.
The goal, I think, will be to continue cultivating my life in the still waters of old age. Accepting, bending things if they will bend, moving softly around those that refuse to yield, and embracing that which desires embracing. Seems easy enough. And we’ll see how it goes. After all, It’s just another reality in a lifetime of realities. It will become what I make of it.