Sunset doesn’t last all evening
A mind can blow those clouds away
After all this my love is up
And must be leaving
It has not always been this gray
All things must pass
All things must pass away.
“All Things Must Pass,” George Harrison
Daylight savings time shifted this morning, and I was up before the dawn, listening to music while I took in a pair of too-baggy jeans on my sewing machine. This song came on, and I got all introspective and shit.
Maybe it’s the time of year, or just getting older. But lately, I have such a strong sense of my life as ephemeral, a pair of jeans that don’t fit anymore. Sure, I can pretend the crotch doesn’t hang to my knees or that the ass isn’t sagging – but it is and it was time to do something. Since I know how to sew, I took them in. But I’m still losing weight, there’s only so much I can do and sooner or later, they have to go. And I accept that.
I wish the other decisions were that easy.
All things must pass.
It’s gotten slightly easier to let go. (Not “easy,” mind you, but easier.) And not of things or places so much as people – whether by death, divorce or decision, time accelerates and people you thought or hoped would be around forever are suddenly gone.
All things must pass.
One of the things I love about middle age is the perspective. I always think of it as finally being high enough on the mountain to see the lay of the land. And while I suppose it’s a New Age cliche, situations that seem pointlessly painful while I’m going through them do invariably land me in a better place. Whether it’s losing a job or going through a breakup, it seems to me I always got a better deal as a result.
Is that reality, or simply my perspective?
It has not always been this gray.
I remember my first plane ride. It was a dark, gloomy day and when the plane nosed its way up past the clouds, I literally gasped – because up there, it was sunny and the skies were still so blue. Sometimes I think of that and remind myself clouds aren’t as permanent as they seem.
I don’t have many crippling dark times anymore. Here and there, but extended periods of gloom are no longer welcome in my life.
A mind can blow those clouds away.
I’ve always been a dreamer, a person with big ideas. And I always thought it was funny, how scornful the “sensible” and “practical” types are of people like me. They point to my failures as proof I shouldn’t have tried in the first place. Which is interesting, because they seem to think being paralyzed and knotted up in fear is somehow preferable. “Don’t expect anything, and you won’t be disappointed,” one ex used to chide me.
What a silly thing to say. What a sad way to live.