We Can Always Start Over

Of course we can't really start over. Many times I catch myself saying inside my head, "Maybe next time." Then I laugh.

I tell myself a lot of lies, always have. I catch about half of them. That's not true, whatever the percentage, I purposefully accept the most convenient ones. There's a name for that type of personality. I know what it is and if you're reading this and you're not me, you probably know what it's called too. If you don't, I suggest you examine your ability to catch your own lies.

When I was young, I had a giant fixed belief inside me that you could pick things the things you wanted in your life and then by focusing on them and working the appropriate amount, you could make them happen. A wish comes true. That works sometimes. But there was always a strong tendency inside me to would wish for things while never intending to exert the faintest effort to accomplish them. I wanted them to just happen. Like magic. Those were the most numerous desires because they required no effort and I always seemed to be saving my effort for -- what? Something else. Something more important.

That means inside I was ranking the desires on a scale from totally frivolous to life-saving. On a parallel scale, was the Effort Scale. I see now that it was all very neat and tidy. There's a direct relationship between the two. There are no terrible important desires which are easy to achieve. So when a desire popped up, I placed it on the scale which showed how important it was and, at the same time, how much effort it would take to make it happen. That's a lot of work for the little guy in my head to do all by himself, and I kept the little man working overtime.

I want to say right up front that I was very good at coming up with desires or wishes and ranking them. Anyone would agree with my assertion here. I'm shit at getting real things done. That's obvious.

The problem with the system is that important things are too hard to do and the unimportant things, well, I mean, why bother with those?

With a few notable exceptions, that flawed system saw me through the first 60 years of my life. Now that I'm approaching old age I see things around me that I would like to be able to do, have, think, believe, accomplish etc. and instead of wishing I could change in order to achieve them, I think, "Maybe next time" and then I have to laugh. Laughing is good, I like laughing. It serves a dual purpose when I laugh at things that I think-- I get a good laugh and anyone around me cringes and says a silent prayer that they themselves are spared the slow decline into a private dungeon of dementia, no matter how funny it may seem to everyone.

That's OK. For now, I know that I'm not really slipping that much. At least I think, I hope I'm not slipping that much.

Where was I? I can't really remember what I started out to say, but that's OK. This has been fun and maybe I'll get it out the right way next time.

More later,