Election Section

While parked on Shattuck Avenue, sipping a latte and waiting for the Berkeley Public Library to open, I eyed two well-worn women as they ambled by, deep in conversation. One, with grayed-brown curls seeping out of her frayed knitted cap, clutched an overstuffed garbage bag to her side. She seemed quite intense as she spoke to her companion: “I think back in time to when things have disappeared and you’ve been drunk and you didn’t know you lost it…” 

That’s all I heard through my half-opened window but it was enough to get me to thinking about how many things have slipped through my fingers and out of my life when I wasn’t paying attention. 

It’s March already and I haven’t made a single New Year’s resolution. Yeah, I’d like to eat healthier, get more exercise and in general, be a happier, kinder, more fulfilled individual. But, what else is there? What’s missing from my miserable life? 

Well, I’m not truly miserable. I have much to be grateful for and I am grateful. I count my blessings every day. On the other hand, I peer out at these two haggard crones, and I wonder, could that be me 10 years from now, waddling down some small town street without a comb or a cup of coffee, full of wonder and regret? 

“I think back in time to when things have disappeared and you’ve been drunk and didn’t know you lost it…” 

It keeps running through my head, nudging me, taunting me. I think back on missed opportunities, both career-building and romantic. I think back on all the times I kept my mouth shut when I was burning up inside, wanting to scream or to hit somebody. I think back to all the times from early childhood through elementary school and even in college when I tried to make myself small, invisible, so as not to draw any attention to myself that would cause me pain. 

And finally, I think to myself, here I am, middle-aged and still thinking about all this crap. Perhaps what I need to do is to stop thinking about all this old stuff and just let it go. It’s done, over with, there’s nothing I can change about the past. All I have is right now, this moment. And if I’m ever going to become truly fulfilled, I had better get up off of my behind and do whatever it takes to become so and be quick about it. Certainly no one else can do it for me.  

So, what do I want from what’s left of my life? When we were young and invincible, we all thought we’d not only see the world but would change it, profoundly, for the better. We were going to conquer mountains and all manner of evil foes. Some of us thought we would become rich and famous, write the next great American novel, discover the cure for cancer or teach children how to read. Others just wanted to live in peace, free from artificial, man-made constraints of any kind (so long as we’re not hurting anybody else, we’d always add). The point is that we all had dreams that we believed in then and that many of us have dreams we still believe in now and that it’s not too late. It can’t be. What would be the point if there’s no point? 

I look around and think, okay, what’s happening right now? And I am surprised to find myself contemplating many of the same “Who am I and what am I doing here?” type of questions I pondered as a 16-year-old hippie hanging out on Venice Beach. I then ask myself, if I’m not exactly where I want to be at this stage of my life, what steps am I taking to get there? And therein lies my New Year’s Resolution: To actively take whatever steps are necessary, even if my own timeworn and weary mind and body can only manage one such step per day. I will take that small step and then another and another until each one of my dreams—leftover and newly emerging—comes true. 

Time’s a-wastin’. Get on with it, already. Happy New Year!