It's a warm in day Auckland, at least 16 deg. I've just got back from checking the letterbox after washing millions of spiders webs off my car and I can safely say it's almost tropical.
I like the transition of the seasons. Spring is great. It reminds me of my youth. Hanging out at Oriental Bay, watching the world go by. Listening to music as loud as my ears could handle from my Walkman. It's a reminder of the past and a promise of the future. Something that wasn't that assured as teenager. I do long for those days though, life was much simpler. My responsibility was limited to myself and even then that was more of an obsession than any duty of care. The air smelled sweeter, music felt like it lived in my bones and friends were always at arms length.
Now I rinse cobwebs off my car after checking my own letterbox for bills and other unreasonable demands. Life is more cluttered, friends are more fickle; worried too about externalities that demand more immediate attention.
I'm conscious too that life is passing me by, what I want and need are now gulfs apart. I want security, freedom from my fears. Belonging is no longer as important as position. My life moves at the speed of sound and I'm glimpsing back at what it was. Depressing.
Self help and pop-psychology manuals tell me to make a plan. Create a routine and life will fall into place, is that any different from being young again?
