I'm ok (I promise)

Every year, at this time, like clock work, my world is thrown into tail spin of what it is I want, what is lacking and what I really shouldn’t give a shit about…every year, at this time, like clock work…I remain confused.

The new years chaos brings with it unavoidable introspection and retrospection about what I prioritize in my life. Given recent context (the aunt I reference in my last posting has since passed on) this self analysis has been exaggerated. I have always been a firm believer that ones life can easily be illustrated as a pie chart…each wonderful piece signifying a partition that contributes to ones self. A piece for family, one for work, one for hobbies. One for the general bunch of friends and one for the really close ones. Then there is a piece each for a section related to “the romantic real” and another (probably the most important) for ones self. This year end stock take, provokes thoughts around contribution and management of each and every piece.

Those that have availed themselves to my meandering thoughts, will know that this time of year nears 2 of the saddest days of the year for me…the silver going to the uber commercialized “New Years” and gold (by a country mile) to my birthday that follows not soon after. Yes, yes, its all about perception and mindset and all that jazz…but my mindset and perception and attached jazz saddens me, as these two days, till this, my soon to be 25th experience of it, have all been anticlimactic. No new year has been a complete and utter thoughtless event surrounded by good friend and family and no birthday has ever been glorified or validating. I should be bigger than this. I know, but screw it…if not on this, the most important day in your life (as one ex referred to it), then when else does one get spoilt and completely self absorbed? The completely over commercialized February 14th?

What aggravates further, is that in general, I have moved heaven and earth for those close to me, to at the very least, know that on that day, they are all that matter. With the exception of one this year (I’m sorry, but I adopted this philosophy given context and this thought process and you got caught in the cross fire), I have been good in this regard.

As I process them chronologically (which came first, the birthday or the new year) I look back on another year of short comings, lack of articulation, disappointments and lack of commitments, both from and to. Ranging from not being able to quit smoking entirely to a continuation of the romantic tragedy it continues to be (and everything in between) I am saddened at how I did not follow through on the undoubted potential that the unknown holds. Granted, there have been many positives from this time period (time period being the last new years till this) with regards to career, sport, friendships found and lost and interactions that have fueled both thought and action…something has been lacking. What exactly it is… I cannot pin point.

For those that read this that know me, please remain calm, I am neither homicidal nor suicidal, despite the dark rings around my eyes. I am merely thrown into a period of deep and analytical thought. Seeking what it is I should change and what, of the regrets that I have accumulated, that I should rather look fondly on or merely remember as incidents of a past or seriously consider putting on the “crap, I wish I could have changed that” shelf.

2007 was meant to be a year in which I pulled my finger out and took control of an existence that I felt, in certain realms, I was merely floating along in. The year began with heart ache, continued with confusion, was punctuated with frustration and has reached this junction. Before I sound like my life is completely a helpless and hopeless situation, I have to admit to shining lights of happiness and clarity that have popped up here and there…be them in the context of my career moves, new interactions (and the re-emergence of old ones)or the growing personalities of my stunning nieces.

I am however, bored. The pieces of the pie interest, but sorta fail to intrigue…how did this happen? Well, simple. Continually giving without condition and hesitation has left me a wee bit tired and listless (lacking list). It’s not melancholia, but it’s certainly not rays of fucking sunshine.

I’m more tired, more often and one observer even ventured an analysis…”It must be lonely being you”. A perception that’s not entirely off the mark. Though I very much enjoy being by myself, I am filled with infinite thoughts of what’s missing, what do I want and what do I want to ignore.

I am my own island! (Contrary to Jon Bon Fucking Jovi) I do not owe anyone, anything. There is no case of me being selfish, because, as Hugh Grant’s once character said “I can’t be selfish, because there is no one to put before me, it’s just me.”

So what the hell am I missing…its not kids, it’s not a stable relationship, its not more money (though that would be very cool)…The glass is not half empty, most of the time anyway. But I am just frustrated at the plethora of grey. I guess its simple enough for me to acknowledge that I need to take the proverbial bull by its proverbial horns…but I would need to figure out first if I wanted it to be a nice domesticated pet or a nice juicy steak.

To any of you that read this, that do know me; should the thought arise to try to inspire a change of opinion, please do not waste your time to rectify the years of vanilla. This will not be held against you and this post was never meant to insight action. You are as I see you now and this New Year or birthday, will not change my fond opinions of you (if I do, in fact have fond opinions of you) This is just a vent. An unadulterated, unjustified, minimal context, no validation vent.

Well, whatever the case, I guess I’ll figure it out in time. This sort of intense, deep, dark and generally self imposed depression fades shortly after the “gold” day…after yet another acknowledgment of what my role is to so many… but don’t worry. I’m ok. I promise.

Thoughts of a dying atheist

Last Saturday, I, for the first time in my life spoke to someone that was dying. Yes, yes, I know we are all dying in the physical/metaphorical sense. But my aunt is losing traction in her long battle with cancer.

An interesting woman that I was never too exposed to, she has exuded valor, strength, courage and determination through this torturous time. It’s absolutely amazing that this woman, whom has played such a peripheral role in my life, is the sole catalyst in a lot of introspection right now.

Her relationship with my mum is bound by the ultimate element…happy memories of a long since past. My mum and she were tennis champs together and supreme conquerors when it came to the doubles format.

I have my opinion on why my mum takes such great strain in this time, considering, growing up, I don’t recollect massive interaction between the two. Yet now, as I’m sure my mum does worry about her son and exhausted husband, it is their memories, forged in the realm of sport in an era of hardship that twists the knife in my aching mother’s heart.

Whilst chemo eats away at her, the core of who she is still shines through in no diluted format. Last week, after a battle longer than 2 years, she mentions to me “Took a bit of a bad turn last night, but are we still on for that game?” It took all of me to not start bawling then and there as she referenced a quip of mine regarding me playing her on her return to full health. There was, however, an undertone, a hint, maybe just an atom worth of exhaustion in her voice…something that I have never heard, even pretty much immediately post chemo.

As her condition has worsened since that last conversation, I think of her more and more each day and how pieces of me continue to bleed for my mother and my cousin’s heart.

To lose a sibling for me, with all of my creativity, would be unimaginable. To lose my mother, would be devastating. And as blasé as we try to be with ourselves, it is a near impossibility to pass “death is a part of life” of as a realistic mantra. If you are a person that had even an iota of your heart touched by a person that has since passed, you shed a tear…physically or otherwise.

My aunt, the athletic woman she kept herself to be until chemo and cancer robbed her off her physical presence, remains a competitive soul. After that conversation with her (curtailed by a sudden tiredness) I was left in pieces, sitting on my bed, wiping my eyes. Wondering what it was that was going on in her mind and more importantly, in her heart. Is she realizing that she may have suffered one relapse too many, or is she still giving the grim reaper a two fingered salute? What, strength pending, would she articulate and to whom? What are her last thoughts before bed and her first, each morning? Does she hate her God or give a metaphorical shrug of the shoulders and write it off as the hand she was dealt?

Is she angry, sad? Does she have regret and if so, what?

Does each eve feel like the last and is each morn a painful reminder of her physical state? Does time not even exist in her world and is it just a matter of piecing together moments?

One thing I do know though, she has shown me what the term “heart” truly is. I know it in a sporting sense, but in this very real life situation, she has been a true gladiator.

The strong hug I received from her in February, shortly after another one of those chemo sessions was not one of strength of God or advancement in medical technologies. It was one that came from the heart. To see a nephew that she wasn’t all that attached to, visit her at her home and speak to her as a long lost aunt that has just been away for a bit. She played the doting aunt and I was the good little nephew that constantly kept in touch. It mattered to neither of us that there were decades that slipped through the cracks…just that she wanted people to be sincere and that’s what I offered.

I am saddened that I never got to absorb more of her now. Who knows, if circumstances had offered us more time minus this context, I may not have even like her…but that’s if our hands were different.

As she lays in a nursing home, on oxygen permanently and shunning away visitors, I know for a fact of what a warrior she is. Her fight has been a long and exhausting affair and all I could wish for her is that she feels complete and utter bliss and peace in either a path to recovery or that alternative reality that we shall all be faced with one day.

Should a grieving family member or friend be given ones full attention when they wish to show affection/sympathy/or just to see that person? Or is it not one’s right to be dismissive of others in this time of personal discomfort?

Who has right?

This blogger’s thoughts have shifted to him. Being placed in a situation of personal terminal illness or one of instantaneous death like a car crash…I find myself digging up an age old fear: Did I do anything in my time here? To elaborate, did I manage to positively touch someone’s life? Did I validate them? Did I give them something that fed their soul? Well, only time will tell on that one, and when that day comes, may all that I have done that has caused harm, with whatever reasoning behind it, be temporarily forgiven…for if not then, then when else would the thoughts of a dying atheist be heard?

To my aunt…you validated, you invoked, you inspired…