Primetime

I think I may be in my prime. I have felt this way before, like the time I was bungee jumping off a crane in a crowded Mexican square as Hell’s Angles types cheered from down below, or the time I was doing my deep dive in Lake Malawi, or maybe the time I was cruising the coastline of Southern France on a scooter--just wed and Asiabound. There have been many times that everything in my life has felt like a runaway zenith, but never before this summer have I felt so comfortable with the man staring back at me in the mirror.

Despite the good times, I can also recall the many moments where he was ill at ease in his skin. Sagging rings under his eyes, too thin and pale. Scratching so hard to get to the surface. Lying to himself that the bottom wasn’t so bad. Pretending the loneliness was romantic and the angst turned rage just another head of the muse.

But not today. Not this now. Everything seems to be swimming in flow. The ebbs surmountable. Even enjoyable. It feels as if everything up to now has been a direct path to this moment in time. A moment where the direction is clear--it is all just a spiraling circle. I realize now that life is not linear and there really is no destination. We wake up every morning and try to maintain the high. Not in the form of escape or even enhancement, but rather a clear awareness of reality as it is.

I used to think that everything in life could be better if I had one more drink, ran a  little faster, was a little more adventurous. Life doesn’t need to be any better than it always is. A warm safe bed. A gentle breeze. The hot sun. A budding sense of humor. Her scowl as she becomes a person. A soft tune. Rubbing her back as we escape in fiction for a brief moment each night. A carefully crafted paragraph of prose. Satisfaction from work. A teachable moment. A lesson learned.

by Adcuz

I take back what I said earlier. I am not in my prime, because such an assumption presupposes that there is a limit. An apogee to our lives. I am merely at a clearing on my path. A spot where the past is bathed in the sweet summer sun and the future summits and valleys are made obvious. Perhaps being in one’s prime is the realization that there is no prime. There is no,  this is how it should be. No successes. No happiness. Just a meta-aware existence that can look into the mirror of the present moment and not shudder with anxiety or fear, but smile, nod, toss the hair out of its face and carry on.