Still alive at five

People walk by the fence, unaware of the significance of the day. Today is the fifth anniversary of the arrival of the fence. My temporary fencing secured by temporary fencing. Our fifth anniversary was marked by a bright sunny day... chilly in the morning but warming to a brilliant spring afternoon.

I never would have imagined that we would be together so long. When someone drops temporary fencing into your life, you don't expect it to last long. Temporary fencing is a fleeting relationship where it swoops in, changes your life for a while, and vanishes never to be seen again. No real commitment, just some fun and aggravation only to end when you are both finished using each other. You move onto more permanent fencing or none at all, while the temporary fencing finds someone new and enters their life.

But not in this case. My temporary fencing and I are still together, five months into what could be a long term relationship. Through good times and bad, through wind and rain, through sunshine and cold, we've stuck together. Still going strong after all this time. Happy fifth anniversary temporary fencing securing temporary fencing.

What if?

How much is too much?

How soon is too soon?

I've pondered these questions, and others like them, for years. It seems like my total existence is sometimes predicated on a underlying foundation of uncertainty. As far back as I can remember, my adult life has been an endless series of what if's and if/then's questions. I wonder why I can't seem to be confident enough to make a decision and not over analyze it. Should I have put that extra dash of pepper in the chili? If I call today will it be too soon and make me look desperate? If I don't call today will it make me look disinterested? If I choose A over B, C, or D what will everyone think? What if I'm wrong?

We all know people who spontaneously act in certain situations. We know people who operate on instinct and don't seem to think anything out before leaping headlong into it. I'm not advocating this approach to life, but I wonder where the balance between acting and overreacting lies. Out of necessity it must be different for various times, but where is the happy medium? I wonder when thoughtful consideration crosses the line and becomes obsessive.

I feel like I get too locked up on thinking that I miss living, paralyzed with inability to let things happen naturally. Or to let things happen naturally then worry if I could have made it better. I wonder how much I haven't experienced because I spent too much time ruminating whether I should do it or not. How many opportunities have passed me by? How much stress have I needlessly placed on myself with all of this doubt? Why do I have to be so anxious all of the time?

Should I change the way I look at life? Can I ever make a life altering shift like this? I'll have to take some time to think about it.

Hug

I've been alone most all of my life, for as long as I can remember. As a child, mom worked a split shift at work. She'd take my brother and I to school in the morning, went to work, picked us up and got us started on homework and dinner, then went back to work from about 6p-10p which was bedtime when she got home. My brother spent most of those evening hours in his bedroom, watching his shows on his TV, while I got the living room. Not a bad arrangement space wise, but not too conducive to conversation. Thinking back on it now, we didn't even share the household chores. One or the other of us would trade off the kitchen and cleaning duties day to day, not even working to do things together like washing and drying the dishes. It wasn't that we didn't like each other, it was just that we never really got to know each other. He liked movies and role playing games, I liked sports and music. In a lot of ways we were very different and at the same time very similar, two latch-key kids who grew up separately together.

Moving onto high school, things didn't change all that much. I went to a high school located in Boca Raton, about 20 miles away from home and not the one a majority of my grade school classmates attended. Our family had only the one car, which mom needed for work, so I rode the bus to and from school. This distance gap wasn't the only thing that separated me from the group. Boca Raton is a much more affluent city than my hometown, with the expected class separation between teen have's and have not's. Not that it really mattered all that much. In a school of upper crust, well to do teenagers, a fat, glasses-wearing, no-car, nerd in the Honors Society and Math Club wasn't going to have many, if any friends. A foundation of being alone had been set by the time I was out of my teens.

Since those days of my youth I've become accustomed to being alone. I am used to dining alone, attending a game or concert by myself, or playing golf as the stranger in a foursome. It is just the way I am and suspect I will always be. But being lonely is entirely different from being alone. I would define being lonely as the times when it would be nice to have someone to come home to or to pal around with on a weekend. Being alone is fine, and can be liberating to a point, but being lonely sucks. I am alone most of the time, and lonely on occasion. Kylie has a thought provoking post today about on-line friends vs. real life friends. I have a lot of on-line friends who mean a great deal to me. We pick each other up when we are down, we share a laugh or smile or cry, we offer advice and we throw month long birthday parties. But as wonderful as on-line friends are, sometimes you need a real life hug. When you are alone, you know that hug is not coming and that is when it becomes even more lonely.

Never discount the value of a hug, whether it be a cordial greeting or a mighty bear hug. They all have great meaning, especially to those who rarely get them and desperately need them.

Two pains in the ass back

My back is a wreck.

I have two very distinct areas that flare up from time to time for entirely different reasons. Of course, they have chosen to conspire and both attack at the same time. My lower back is tender from a life of abuse, mostly from the turning and torquing it takes from playing golf for 30+ years. When I have an episode, it generally comes from overdoing it, not stretching, or just being lazy and slouching too much on the couch. Last night, it started to spasm when I picked up a full laundry basket. A friggin' laundry basket. How old am I? It's not one of the more serious episodes I've had, but annoying nonetheless. Advil, rest, a well placed heating pad, or a hot bath over the next couple of days will take care of it.

The spasms at the junction of my neck and left shoulder are another matter entirely. These are completely stress related. There are usually no warning signs when these will strike. This morning, I was at the traffic light waiting to pull into the garage at work when that familiar sharp pain shot through my body. It was intense enough that I involuntarily jerked the steering wheel a bit and mashed the brake pedal further into the floor board. Advil and the heating pad help this too, but only when the immediate stress subsides. When the neck pain strikes, it is even painful to turn my head. So instead of turning my head, I have to turn my torso which further aggravates my already tender lower back. The last three hours have been pure joy... stuck at work without a heating pad, sucking down wimpy, out of date aspirin from the first aid kit, and betting against myself which will be the next to spasm, upper back or lower back. Right now the score stands Upper: 3, Lower: 1 and I've been right 50% of the time.

The Battle of the Back rages on with no ceasefire on the horizon.

Sunday morning

I hear the birds chirping as the light sneaks its way through the blinds. It is the only sound I hear, a blissful peace so rare in these times. The coffee begins to percolate, the bubbling brew joining the chorus of birds in a cheerful Sunday serenade. It is a calm moment in a world hurrying to race away from all of us.

The sun moves higher in the sky, casting longer shadows along the tiled floor. A big mug of coffee rests on the table next to me as I soak it all in. The room warms from the sunlight as the birds continue their symphony just outside the window. The aroma of the coffee fills the room, tantalizing not only the taste buds but also the sense of smell. I breathe it all in, filling my lungs with a serenity so vacant from my life.

I imagine capturing just a little of this inside to carry home. A moment of peace, a moment of tranquility, a moment of rejuvenation of both mind and spirit seized from this one place and time to buoy me. A solitary moment made possible by the kindness of a kindred soul who opened their door and possibly their heart.

So Monday morning lurks mere hours away. The birds will be gone, and the silence will be shattered by the oncoming freight train called life... loaded with burdening cargo. Time doesn't stop, and life keeps pushing me like a wave away from the safety of shore. But on this Sunday morning, a little birdy sung a soothing melody... a reminder of the people and things that truly are important.