I’m that Tired Guy, the square peg in the round hole confined to an office surrounded by round pegs. I’m that Tired Guy who stares sightlessly from his fourth floor office window daydreaming about the past.
Every day we’re standing in a time capsule
Racing down a river from the past
Every day we’re standing in a wind tunnel
Facing down the future coming fast
Time is inexorable, a companion to some, a predator to others (thanks for the pearls Professor Soran and Captain Picard) and omnipresent. The clock starts ticking the moment we draw our first breath. Life is the greatest measure of Time. If you’re constantly looking ahead, the past will forever remain behind. But it’s always there, right at the edge of your vision, like a false dawn.
Ironic that the past can be present eh?
But what about the future? What’s there?
“Only what you take with you,” Yoda replied cryptically.
Oh yes, ultimate zen from the master himself.
If we are the sum total of our experiences, then carry lots of spare cash ’cause airlines will have a field day when you check your bags.
Now forward-thinkers, these are people who carefully craft their vision, stay focused upon it, never letting it dip or dim or dither. They chase after it like a thirsty man seeking water in a trackless desert. A voracious desire to challenge, strive, achieve, succeed.
Wish I could say I was one of them. If that were the case, I wouldn’t work for an insurance company. I’d be something else. Somewhere else. Someone else.
Truth is after all a moving target
Hairs to split, and pieces that don’t fit
How can anybody be enlightened?
Truth is after all so poorly lit
Geddy Lee makes a good point. Reality is perception, not the other way around. Regardless, I’m supposed to be the master of my domain (and the king of the castle!). Only I possess the ability to see through my eyes. That’s my brain working back there, at least most days it is. Yet I wear glasses because my vision is faulty. I’m near-sighted with an astigmatism. My glasses enable me to avoid walls and driving off the nearest cliff, but the only eyewear powerful enough to prevent bad decisions is experience.
How Aristotlean of me, n’est ce pas?
It’s just the age
It’s just a stage
We turn the page.
Wisdom comes from bad experience. Still if you constantly make the right choices, do you ever really become smarter? Besides, no one likes perfection unless it’s in baseball (fraggin’ Super Bowl XLII). And even in baseball, variety is key.
“Don’t try to strike everybody out,” Crash declared emphatically. “Strikeouts are boring! Besides that, they’re fascist. Throw some ground balls – it’s more democratic.”
As for truth, well there are always three sides to every story – yours, hers and somewhere in between lies the actual truth. Yet who can see it? Can you? Can I?
And another irony. The truth lies…somewhere.
But I digress.
We may be faulty creations. Our vision at times, clouded. But therein lies our individual greatness. Are the vast majority of us destined to remain lemmings as Sting once said, trapped in shiny metal boxes? Who wants to be like that?
Everyone possesses the ability to be greater than they are. To be exceptional, go beyond the truth, shed light upon a darkened world, rise above mediocrity. Look to the future, plan ahead, be smart, conquer your fear. Stick to your guns, because not everyone will agree with you. Gather allies, as there’s no such thing as having too many friends. When you get knocked down, dust yourself off, pick yourself up and get back on that damn horse with no name.
And when all else fails, turn the page.