I am at a stage life has come to mean something; funny it also means it doesn’t make much difference one way or other.
I can see it as if it is happening to someone who has to live while each day I am on the go under creative urge. I almost wanted to write fire but it sounds a little over the hill.
I sleep soundly and even though shorter duration the moment I open my eyes most of the time my head is clear and it is to write or read as though during the night my filing cabinets have been cleared and rearranged for the day. My memory is as good as ever. It was total recall but now it is downhill. Yes. it is natural.
Curiosity and creative touch is still as though in full flow and ready at the turn of a tap.
Of course there are moments that I feel time’s winged chariot to borrow Andrew Marvell’s expression is getting nearer. Should I really bother? Wisdom of age tells me it doesn’t matter.
I live on the nerves and yet I seem to be teflon coated to get down to the brass tacks when things need to be done and keep my inner poise in tact. Words crowd into my mind and while speaking I am at a total dither since I have to concentrate what I need to say. Sometimes, no often I have made nonsense of what I what I intended to say. I have laughed myself at it. A man of contradictions and yet old age has given an inner resilience to laugh at my own follies and go past them.
My childhood was terrible and yet I could weather it all and be all things to all without giving away myself. My inner life without let up was spent making sense of all I read, heard and outward thing hardly made a dent unless I let. Use of money and fashion didn’t make much claim and yet all that I value, I could indulge in art music books cinema and still they do claim my attention.
From youth up I was at ease with the idea of a loving God and I never let fear ruin my bond. It was an everyday thing. Even now it is thus. I know I am in the plan of God and our relationship is bonded by age.
At a time of my utmost need in the early morning(late 80s) I was woken up by a thought. It was clearly a verse. I took my bible to read. The exact verse was Moses blessing on Benjamin( I was Benjamin to my father) where it is written He shal dwell between his shoulders( Num.33:16). What is between shoulders but the head? I knew what it meant in my case. Five years later I had to step out of nasty relationship and when it came I knew everything shall be Ok. It was so.
So many years in personal and creative life I could not wish more. Now I keep recalling the words of A.C Swinburne a poem that makes more emotional appeal to me.
From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.
I take exception the idea that ‘dead men rise never’ but as poem it takes on meaning and poetry suits my mood to set out passing thoughts. Sometimes droll, foolish wise well all these are part of me. So why complain what is natural?