Time's Up

So my man Morales gave me a call yesterday to check in on me. You can tell who you're real friends are because they do that. I haven't seen the man face to face for at least two or three years, but the advice he imparts to me in our convos is always right on the money.

So we're talking about everything from the election to the movie biz when he makes a comment that is nothing but truth and still manages to make me pause for we a moment. He said "All the oil in the Middle East will be gone in 30 years."

I was already aware of this, of course. The oil part I'm more than aware of. Hell, I'm actually looking forward to electric cars and alternative fuel sources. It wasn't about the Middle East either. It was about the 30 years.

30 years from now (if I'm blessed to still be here) I will almost 63 years. While 63 ain't decrepit, it ain't young either. I will not move as quickly as I do now. I will not be a prolific. My children will probably be adults. I will also have answers to many of the questions plaguing me in the here and now.

Somewhere in this moment I realized just how short life is. A certain phase is over and the one that I'm here in the middle of is so much more complicated. I question myself more. I'm not so brash. Watching a teaser for Zane's Sex Chronicles show on Cinemax, I'm reminded of the offer she made me to contribute to one of her anthologies. How might that have changed now? How could I be more secure than I find myself at an age where I planned on at least owning a home?

But it's never about what we want, and we are as we are supposed to be. Our egos are the biggest obstacles to our progress and thus it is a blessing in disguise when we find ourselves being humbled.

I also have a different perception of aging now. As my parents are approaching the far end of middle age, I realize that getting older isn't a bad thing. Sure you have to be more careful. Sure things take more time. But there's still so much that you can still do, so much that you can still make happen. And if you're luck to have not ruined your brain with stress and everything else, you have the gift of offering your experiences to others who can use them to further progress.

I've always treated change like a cactus, something I could embrace in fear of the pain it might cause. Now I'm seeing it more an aloe vera plant, a living and breathing thing filled with something that can heal me when needed. Clocks always ticking though. So I have to make each and every moment count.