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I’ve been thinking a lot about that post I wrote about Playing it Safe. Reading those Bukowski poems really made me think about what my life had added up to. Where I was headed and where I’m not.
I get depressed with it not matching what I’m seeing from others.
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I turned 37 this year. An inconsequential age on my timeline here. Or so I thought. While walking along the boardwalk downtown my daughter said to me, “You’re old dad.” To which I responded, “I’m 37. I’m not old.” My words went right over her head as she promptly got distracted needing to chase a pigeon off the pier. Meanwhile, that phrase transported me back 24 years to Las Vegas. Sitting in Nate and Matt Williams’ living room watching this:  I have been working on my non-dualistic thinking. Trying to give myself grace around the things I don’t particularly like about myself after acknowledging they exist. Recognizing that both sides are the same person. It’s all me, not just the good or the bad, but all of it. Creating that unity is hard.
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