Note to Self:

There is something therapeutic about writing--I've always known this, as I inevitably turned to paper and now my laptop whenever in a melancholy mood. Lately, I've also felt the urge to write to stave away the fearful feeling that my life is futile, that I'm getting old. It's not my age that bothers me exactly--though the tentative beginnings of fine lines on my face does make me lean in for a closer look, then back away again because ignorance truly is bliss. Rather, it's the thought that I am getting older and there's a heck of a lot left on my "to-do" list, things I've always envisioned accomplishing while young--actually young, not just at heart. And so I write because, A) writing lets me "get it out," relatively painlessly and without judgement; B) I like writing and therefore feel a little happier having finished some little ditty that amuses me, and C) there are these secret hopes and desires that have been festering since I was a child--that I might write and publish some day, you know, just for fun. My writing also bleeds into the lyrical category, accompanied by music, sung by an oddly familiar voice.

With these things in mind, my 26 years seem to stretch out in front of me, languidly, but too much so, and I feel like giving them a nice quick kick, a proper scolding for being so relaxed. So what if I cry...

Because it's not just enough to have ideas--I know this. It seems my fatal flaw is a lagging volition--keeping my feet moving. Children's author and illustrator Tommy de Palo once wrote, "First one foot, now the other." This is the best kind of mantra for me. Swimming the English Channel takes some paddling along the way, stepping on the moon means miserably unrecognizable meals , and much as I would like to believe that for three easy payments of $19.95, my life can be changed, there's always the shipping and handling.

There you have it, or rather, there I have it, since this is a "Note to Self." The shadows of my previous melancholy this week are in hiding for the moment under a splendidly sunny sky today. My skin is happy, my fingers warm. I will refer to these musings from October to March.

"First one foot, now the other." I'm on the pavement now, and I'm walking.