Frozen

I feel like one of those birds, endlessly flapping its wings; in flight, but not moving forward or back, just... there, caught between earth and sky, Heaven and Hell, life and death, until it tires and then, plummets down, catching itself or, if it wasn't paying attention, lands painfully. I admire anyone who can pause like that; anyone who can be still and reflect and not continue to force themselves to seek yet another destination, another something. It tires me out just thinking about it and yet, I cannot sit still. I am only at peace when I am moving forward, with a goal in mind, settled on the next obstacle that I have to hurdle...

Really, what is the point? I've lived for four decades and I still don't know what the point is. Ironically, maybe that is the point, maybe I'm never supposed to find out, because if I do, when I do, then what's left to discover? I look around at people and I watch the news and I read and I converse with other people, yet, I often feel isolated from everyone. Like everybody is secretly looking at their watches, biding the time until they can move on to the next thing: the gym, out to dinner, sleep. Secretly, I like to imagine that people don't have anywhere to go or anything to do; that they just happen to walk by me or smile at me or sit next to me in a movie theatre, just because. Providence maybe or maybe just dumb luck. I love the idea that everything happens for a reason and equally, I love the notion that nothing happens for a reason. A child dies because he was ill, not because the parents were bad people or because God wanted it that way. But then, I flip the coin and I say, well, maybe that child died because in the master plan, his or her death, enabled something else to happen for someone else or maybe it was as simple as God wanting his or her soul. I like the idea that I have no control over anything that I do because my life has been predestined and although this idea often scares the shit out of me, I find it a provocative notion; I'm a puppet, just playing a role. Then, truly, what is the point? But, flip, and I am arguing the other point, free will. The choices that I make directly influence not only my existence, but everyone else's who comes into contact with me. That's a semi-frightening thought. Makes me want to behave a little bit more appropriately. Then again...

I sat on the beach today, digging in the sand with the maniac as the wind whipped at the water; whitecaps everywhere, people bundled up and I thought about moving forward. I thought about how, if I'm lucky to have lived that long, that in a mere few decades, I won't be here any longer; at least not how I am now. I thought about my children and how they will struggle and hurt and sometimes want to give up. And I thought about how much joy they've brought to my life these past years. I thought about how simple it is when we are children and how running in the waves or playing duck, duck, goose can make one squeal in delight. So, I take off my shoes and dig my toes into the freezing cold sand and I try to remember...

I'm calm and pensive and then I get back home and Ty is screaming, "Nick hit me in the butt and I don't like that" and Nick is screaming "Shut up Jake" and Jake is just screaming because he's loud and obnoxious and then I am back into fight or flight mode. Life just doesn't seem to want to give me more than a couple of minutes now and then. So, I take a deep breath or I drink more than one glass of wine or I sit in the tub in water so hot I can barely stand it and I try to clear my mind, patiently waiting for the next time that I get a moment to myself or the time to consider what the hell I'm doing here and why I'm doing it in the first place. Sometimes I do wish that I could go back for a few minutes, but not to early adulthood; I wish I could go back to those years when it was Rich and Steve and I and we were running through the sprinklers, or playing soccer or opening Christmas presents. I miss being a part of the child triumverate instead of the one who now doles out the rules and the discipline. It's exhausting.

The birds settled down eventually and waited for sandcrabs or for bystanders to throw crumbs for them to fight over and some of them took flight over the water. I watched for a little longer and then I picked up my son and put him on my shoulders while he beat his hands on top of my head like a drum. We walked up the ramp at Avenue H and he laughed when I said, "Ow" or he waved at people as they went by, yelling, "Hi." I looked down so that I wouldn't trip over my own feet and after a few steps, Ty said, "Hey mom, look at that" and I did and so I pass that along to you today; Don't forget to look up, it's the only way that you're ever going to see what's ahead of you...