Amnesia??

I woke up the other morning feeling pretty damn good. I jumped out of bed and went downstairs to the bathroom (odd duplex) with a tune humming around in my head. (I think it was Let's Fall in Love) There in the expanse of mirrored wall was this aged lady who resembled me -- well, maybe around the edges. Oh, m'gawd! When did this happen? I felt suddenly as though I had slept through my life! I felt as though I were 30 or 40 -- at the very most -- and there in front of me was the evidence of years. I washed my face quickly, the cool water rinsing off some of the improbability. And then I saw them, all the years -- all the memories lying in front of me like the loose pages of a manuscript tossed in a mixed-up spread.

Okay, at least I haven't blown my mind out totally. All I need to do now is collate those memories. Visualizing the mess of years, months, days, minutes, emotions -- now there's a job. But first I have to figure out what today is all about. No, I don't have dementia; or Alzheimer's. I don't even have an acceptable case of remorse. I think it's more like....terror! A bowel-level fear that I won't have time to do all that I dearly want to do. Well, dummy, I said to myself -- you'd better get to it then. Start collating, and get on with it.

Gratefully, it was not a work day. I think it was a Saturday. That'll do in a pinch. So I decided to drive to a place that always helps me sort myself out. We all have a place like that. Of course I could have just gone for a nice long walk and let the soft wind blow through my ears. Instead I drove to Ogunquit, Maine, to walk the Marginal Way.

Have you been there? If you keep your
focus on the sea and the seawall, on the
foliage along the way, on the sounds of
ocean and gulls and wind; if you sit on
your favorite bench and let your thoughts
drift away from you on the white caps and
then wash back over you -- well, if you don't find a solution to whatever the hell is
bothering you, at least you'll feel pretty
damn good.

This of course is not the only solution to
my confused moments. And often, the
Marginal Way is not a drive away. In those cases, a glass of good port will sometimes do the trick, or a dish of cappuccino ice cream.

It is useless, I know, to mind growing old. Unless one dies young, it's gonna happen. It's the WAY we do it. I'm sort of glad that I'm rather nuts (really) insisting on internal youth since eternal youth is not possible. Because this attitude forces me to move more (climb the stairs instead of taking the escalator), dress my own edgy way (instead of subscribing to OLD FART FASHION magazine). It lets me look forward to things -- little things, big things -- next year -- next minute. Every ordinary day is THE day. A friend told me recently that she needed new skis; hers are 30 years old and not functioning very well. But she didn't think she should invest in new skis because she won't be around to enjoy them for 30 more years. Wow! What a message to send to the universe. And what difference does that make, I told her. If you enjoy them for one day that's a lifetime in itself.

Do I sound like PollyAnna? Sorry about that. All this because I had a big amnesia moment and thought I was still a kid when I got up the other morning. Maybe I am. Maybe it just doesn't show. Maybe tomorrow it will all make more sense. I sure hope not!