On Such a Timeless Flight

It wasn't until Monday afternoon that I realized I totally neglected to make a post. Completely slipped my mind. I even remember Sunday afternoon/evening. I'd made my lunch for Monday, finished tidying my room and got caught up on some emails. And I thought to myself, "what else is there to do tonight?" And I came up with nothing, so I spent the last few hours of the weekend sketching while I had the Pirates of the Caribbean up on the other monitor. I just finished re-watching the first three films. And despite what the critics seemed to say... I really enjoy the series. I love the strange and twisted folklore, especially. The first half of Dead Man's Chest was pretty terrible, though. It's like the director had schizophrenic fits where he thought what the film really needed was some crappy slap-stick so it could appeal to the kiddies. Never mind the fact that the rest of it was incredibly dark. Still, all things considered, it's a fun and engaging series.

Where was I? Right - drawing and watching movies instead of doing some writing. It's odd, because 90% of the time I always post on a Sunday evening. But I didn't - it completely slipped my mind. Maybe I'm going senile.

Last week I went out with a coworker for lunch. He's a fairly old guy, 70-something, I think. Anyways, he loaned me a massive book on some WWII fighter aircraft, and eventually told me to keep it. For payment, he requested I pay for a lunch. And for the $17 it took to buy both of us some good eats from a rather tasty chicken and fries joint, I think I came out on top. But anyways, the to-and-from was the most interesting bit. The man has clearly lead a full life and done many more interesting things than I probably will. And between some of the stories, he passed on some advice. Which, quite frankly, I welcome - I'll take whatever tips I can get. I'm still a stupid young man, but hopefully enough of these little tidbits of wisdom will add up to something else.

On this particular occassion, I learned that the secret to a successful relationship was Communication‹communication‹communication‹sex‹money. In that order. It sounds like solid advice, and hopefully some day I'll have a use for it. The other thing he talked about made the largest impact and happened to be the most cliche statement that we've all seen thrown around: Stop and smell the roses.

Our lunch trip happened in two, rather logical steps - going there, and coming back. Most of the first and half of the last pretty much covered my coworker's interests, and more importantly, experiences. He's been around and seen a lot, and this setup really helped drive home that effective nugget of cliche advice. He's practically three times older than I am, and so as we bounced along in his Mazda 4x4 wagon back to the office, it was pretty clear that he knew he was getting near to the end of a different kind of road. So when he told me of the things he'd done and the things he had come to regret and then told me that his number one recommendation is to slow down and make life worth living... It kinda drove home much quicker and farther than the previous 734 times I'd heard that over-used saying.

See, I'm not a botanist or even a gardener at all. Heck, I don't like getting my hands dirty, and I'm not particularly fond of fresh produce either. Needless to say, I have very little use for the aroma emitted by plants. I can appreciate the aesthetics, to a degree, but the smell does not interest me. So when the "stop and smell the roses" phrase comes along, and tend to stop and roll my eyes.

But the man was right. He mentioned how money isn't as important as it's made out to be, and it's not worth working your life away for a little bit of financial security. I see the point, I really do. But I'm not sure if, at this point, I can tear myself away from the driving need to work, work, work and save whatever I can along the way. The thing is... What roses am I missing out on? And, of more concern, I'm starting to become worried that, never mind the flowers, I won't be able to stop at all. Where does it end? I like to keep to telling myself that once I'm done with school, I'm going to go places and do things, dammit. Buying a decent car seems to be the poison of choice for creating some sort of light to look forward to. But really, once I graduate, am I really going to step back from my penny-pinching frenzy? I can see it now. "I'll get the car next year. I just want to have x amount left over in the bank account". And then I'll wait one more year, and I'll put off that one trip, and I'll avoid buying that instrument I wanted to learn. Where does it stop? Will the rest of my life be spent on a $50 monthly entertainment budget? It's what I know, it's what I've trained myself to crave.

And in the mean time, I'll keep working long days and coming home late. I'll stumble straight through the door and in to bed, and won't even notice the roses that'll be obscured by the darkness of the night. Damn roses.

I don't know. I worry that I 'm even turning my recreational/"fun" activities into one more item on my to-do list. The first part of this entry highlights it exactly. I don't need to write. I won't be punished for it, I won't miss out on anything. But here I am, pounding at the keyboard with some sense of obligation. Sure, I still find it enjoyable and cathartic... But still. I should probably sketch. I should probably play and instrument. I should probably do some photography. I should probably _______. Before long, they'll be on the same level as checking the bills and taking the car in for an oil change.

There's the story in Luke 10, where Christ was spending an evening in a house with Mary and Martha. Martha was doing house work, and Mary was speaking with/listening to Jesus. Martha asked him to get Mary to help out, and instead he chastised Martha. “Martha, Martha. Thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her”.

I think I may be stuck in some kinda state of perpetual Martha-tude. I keep making busy work for myself, even when there's something amazing and more worthwhile in the next room. And maybe I'm working on changing that special room into something more... Ordinary. And at the end of the day, what will I be left with? A clean house. But an empty house, too.

You can probably chalk a good chunk of these ramblings up to pre-school jitters, if you'd like. But I think that, unfortunately, there may be some sort truth to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get some sketching done.
-Cril

Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it’s cold as hell
And there’s no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don’t understand
It’s just my job five days a week
A rocket man
A rocket man

And I think it’s gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no
I’m a rocket man
Rocket man
Burning out his fuse up here alone

And I think it’s gonna be a long long time...

Elton John - Rocket Man