THAT TENTATIVE FEELING

I’ve lived most of my life taking it for granted. Now that everything has changed for me, I feel as if I’m living on the edge of life—like I could fall off at any moment. This feeling is not necessarily bad, it’s just weird. What is also strange is that I look at other people the same way—as if they are as much temporary visitors to this planet as I am. Only they don’t seem to know it.

I’m guessing that most people don’t get it. It seems they are living life while being nearly unconscious. Most people, it appears to me, are asleep even while acting out their daily routines. This makes me want to shake them, wake them up, and warn them they are missing something big—for one thing, how temporary their life is.

But of course, I don’t end up shaking anyone. Mostly because I’m not sure that the state they’re in is so bad for their health at all. It’s kind of an "ignorance is bliss" frame of mind that most of the world seems to be in. But, I think, maybe that’s not so bad.

I have to remind myself that, even though I’ve written a book or two, I’m no expert on living. The things that I talk about in my journal are mostly just random thoughts I run into. My blog is little more than a map showing the location of my head each day. If anybody bothers to read my words or if they actually take something from them, all the better. What I’m doing, really, is writing for myself—as someone so thoughtfully reminded me just yesterday.