a loss of inspiration

I spent the bus ride into work this morning thinking about eternity. Well, not entirely about eternity, but about mortality and infinity and an end of things, and, yes - about death too. But everytime I sit down to write something in this space regarding that thought I'm side-tracked into doing something else. And by the time I get around to coming back to the thought, it's gone - or atleast a whole lot less eloquent than I first imagined it. Maybe I've not undone all the wrinkles yet. Maybe I'm just not ready to share.

I guess I've been kind of freaking out lately (in my mind) about finishing some thoughts. You know, really laying them down and not picking them up ever again. The thing is, I'm not afraid of my own mortality; I do not fear dying. I've not been afraid of that passing for years now. But lately I've been thinking about all the things that I'm getting ready to leave behind (or perhaps, the things that are getting ready to leave me behind), and I just don't think I'm ready. I'm not sure if I'm capable of handling that change, and I'm definitely not ready to accept the loss.

That's what death is (in my mind, anyway) -- a change, a loss -- the rest lies in perspective.

. . . . .

On Wednesday, it'll be a year since my Grandpa died. My Pops. He was a great man, and a huge part of my life. He lived with my family from the time I was six until I turned twelve or thirteen maybe. I suppose that some of these thoughts are springing from my missing him. And some of them are from this anxiety I've been having about my bestfriend moving fourteen thousand miles away. (I exaggerate)

I hope you all have a good day. many blessings to you and yours.

-d.