Life as an Extreme Sport

ocean of change

I’m headed to the Pacific today, which is appropriate. The ocean always makes me think of birth, rebirth, change. What better place, better day, to think those thoughts?

I’m not big on year-end retrospectives; it’s easy to be human and remember the bad, gloss over the good. One of the reasons I try to write is to capture the good, but I know I failed in that this year. I don’t want to believe that there wasn’t good, and even in the depths of bitterness and misanthropy I can see several strong, bright lights of good – things and people both. But it’s so easy to focus on how bad a year it was, and then it’s a matter of hope. Going into the new year expecting, hoping, it will be better than this last is just begging Murphy to stop by.

To say life is, and has been, out of balance, is an understatement of massive proportion. And I am one of those people – this is something I’ve known for a very long time – who does badly when not centered. A top can spin when perfectly balanced, but when tilted off center, it will wobble and sway until it spins out of control and crashes. I do a very good imitation of this, and I realize that right now I’m on the long side of the wobble.