Accelerating Beyond Control

There have been very few times in my life when I haven't felt at least somewhat in control of the microcosm of events occurring around me. I tend to keep a tight rein on things directly connected to where I live or work, and the interactions that occur therein.

I'm careful but open; wary but adventurous. I've always felt my propensity to be both conservative and carefree in day-to-day life and in any plans is a plus. I keep perspective. I keep somewhat in control. Things are steady enough to be interesting but slow enough so that I can stop, ponder what's going on, and assert some sort of direction change if needed.

Lately though? I've been feeling like I'm strapped to the bumper of a Hennesey Venom GT and am unable to yell loud enough for its insane driver to hear my pleading. Things are moving too fast and I can't grab hold long enough to slow them down.

At work, a line of a thousand changes are occurring, week after week. So and so is moving to this department, such and such is leaving the company after ten years, who and what are getting promoted. Those of us not privileged to know why the sudden acceleration in movement in the workspace is happening are left in lurch, our stomachs five miles behind us as we're catapulted into uncharted territory for which we have neither been prepared or trained.

My daughter, a great seismic shift in her own right, is growing too fast. I don't see her often enough and when I do, it's like she's grown three feet and is saying and doing more than when I last saw her. I'm watching this small pink bundle of mewling flesh be shaped into a living, breathing individual and while I'm one of the many sculptors, I don't feel my influence goes beyond much besides the genetic traits I've passed on. I want to hug her and kiss her and ask her to stop growing for a few days just so I can get to experience her in her many transitions. I blinked and she started crawling, blinked again and now she's walking. Another blink and she's talking. Another few blinks and I'll be helping her with homework, giving her driving lessons, taking her to a college dorm...

I write this at one in the morning because that is the only time I have to slow down, to pause long enough to gather some train of thought that can be prepared enough to be meaningful. So many things pass right by me and I'm too slow to grab onto them. I take snapshots, store them away, and use the howling hours to whittle them in some sense of understanding.

Life is acceleration. We're all speeding towards that one destination. I just hope I can slow down long enough to plant a road sign for those that follow me. "Slow down. Live a little. Enjoy it." I really wish I could try to follow my own advice.

Thanks for listening.

The yearning to write and the will to write sometime feel mutually exclusive. I want to write and yet I sit in front of a page of my novel in progress and nothing comes out. I diverge. I think. I ponder. I mull. I do everything but actually write. This blog is the result of my meandering; this will be the conduit for all the drivel that sticks in the crevices of my creative organs and won't let go until they're out there, somewhere. Plan to read diatribes, reminisces, and essays on everything from heavy metal, sports, games, life, and work. Whatever comes to me will inevitably come to you. I cannot promise cohesion or consistency but I can promise variety and voracity. At times, that's all we need, really.

Thanks for listening.