Under Construction

53.

That´s my age. At least on Friday, when it becomes “official.” But I´ve never been all that concerned with the numbers and instead, more concentrated on the Life itself. And yet, despite having hit some of the milestones I´d set for myself: I can now say that I am a poet, a psychologist, a priest, a parent, and a political activist, (we can discuss why these “p” words are so important later) I realize my life is still under construction. That I do not see making it somewhere, or hitting “the mark” and then settling back and reminiscing with friends about how I “made it.” I see instead, that what I´ll get to is another hill-top among a series, separated by valleys, and celebrated not by the accomplishment of hitting the top of some final hill, but that I´m still travelling towards that inevitable sunset.

A life under construction. Put together one experience at a time, filled with setbacks and accomplishments, wrapped in a blanket of interests and dreams, and labored upon methodically.  Never quite completed, until it´s end.

I like that.

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2 thoughts on “Under Construction

  1. we kinda share the same thought : “A life under construction. Put together one experience at a time, filled with setbacks and accomplishments, wrapped in a blanket of interests and dreams, and labored upon methodically. Never quite completed, until it´s end.”

  2. Exactly. A branch image always comes to mind-lots of possibilities. I don’t feel that I “should be” at any mark, but rather that there is an ebb and flow and interesting changes ever evolving. Not that it’s all rosy, but I’m amused when I suddenly say, “Wow, didn’t see that coming. Cool.” I like that sense of wonder. I think I continue being amazed right up to the end. Hitting home bc my birthday is a few days away too.

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