It’s all about trajectory

 I’ve often thought of my daily existence and collective existence as random particles traveling through the void. That is certainly true. After pondering this for about seven years now, I have come to the conclusion that random particles they may be, the good news is that they are all traveling in the same direction.

Let me lose the abstract here. At the age of 57 there is an awful lot of clarity. My 28 year old self is extremely envious of that focus. But let’s face it, there are way too many non-existent bridges leading back to 1993. So deal with it.

What I mean by this is, I know the things that I want to do and I also recognize that time is a more budgetary thing than I have ever realized. Despite this, I have my moments where I lose the fight against my 18 years of RA pain, fatigue, repercussions of hard living and don’t make the best of every moment. But that doesn’t stop me. Like someone tied down at those times, I struggle and tear against those bindings in order to make a difference, to move forward, to make every day not look like the day before.

So where am I now? Some thing that has taunted me for years, house smashing trees in my front yard were taken down 2 1/2 weeks ago. Although I will be processing that wood with a chainsaw and a wood splitter and dealing with that for the better part of this year in someway, it is definitely a relief.

I love to cook, this as well known. After all the dust settles on personal and work projects in the first half of this year, I have really wanted to take the first steps into making my side hustle the reality in which I provide meal kits for sale, a farmers market appearance or two, and maybe even some small catering jobs. In doing so, I see that as a family endeavor. To work with my family would be the most rewarding thing.

Sometimes it feels like I’m sort of moving further away from that. As the storm of projects pelt me like asteroids striking the hull of a spacefaring vessel, it seems that I lose the ambition to cook, which is sort of important for what I have in mind. In May of 2020, I secured my ServSafe certification, which just ran out about two weeks ago. Sorry for being whiny about this, as I know that I just need to invest some time and take the certification again. But, really? Three years gone and you (I) haven’t done anything yet?

I noticed that I navigate these days as one would in a large unfamiliar, booby trapped library. I don’t want to make mistakes like I did last year, in which I allowed piles of dirt to steal an entire year of my life from me. This year, I want all of it mean some thing. There is so much to do, and I am looking for ways to make sure that I can do those things in the most intelligent manner.

My boys have automobiles that they need help with. My own vehicle has significant maintenance needs if it is to continue. For some reason my existence always seems to be connected to the organization level of my garage. I know this really sounds pretty stupid, but let me tell you what, when it is chaos in there which has been most of the 22 years I have lived here, my life cannot have true course. That needs to happen.

I also know how important it is to be in the moment. On Sunday I was outside in the woods cutting up large limbs of the ash tree. It was in the low 50s, light rain and I was trying to make the day count for getting some of the wood processed. The whole episode at times can feel like or singing 999,999 bottles of beer on the wall. I know that’s  silly, I am moving forward. Then, in one moment, I was done. I was sick of standing in the rain cutting trees, sweating in my gear, just done with this task for today. The one thing I wanted to do was get cleaned up, and take a ride with my wife and do something together.

With all the things that I know that I need to do, sometimes it feels like I am writing new lyrics to “we didn’t start the fire“, but hey, I’m not special. Isn’t that everyone? For now I think I am going to write a project map/calendar. It should allow me to take on task easily without wandering back-and-forth like a caged animal not knowing where to start. It should also allow me to see progress, should I make any. (Sorry for the cynicism, my humor can be dark.)

Moving forward that is what it is all about. I am going to do it, and I’m going to write about it. It is not for you. This is for me. Just putting things out there somehow clears the debris, and maybe, somehow the garage of mine can find order, thus causing all of the tumblers in my life to fall into place.