Leaving the Parking Lot

Well truely, this just sucks. How does that Hiatt line go? "You think you come so far, in this one horse town, and she's laughing that crazy laugh because you haven't left the parking lot."


I have gray hair. I'm 46. A few grays is inevitable. I don't have a few, I have lots. I let the hair go too long between dye jobs and took a good look today. I'd say I'm about half gray now. *insert inconsolable crying here* I'm only 46 and I have gray hair and I'm entering menopause. I'm not enough of a writer to convey the grief I feel. And yes, I have the mood swings to go with all this. I'm starting to think that my mood swings have mood swings.


Life is indeed a journey. I know this. I've taken comfort for several years from knowing I'll live to grow old. Long story, but I know I have a relatively long life in this world ahead of me. I do believe that change is life and it's all part of the process and I embrace the process. I do. Really. I do. SHUT UP, I DO!


So why is it so hard right now? Why am I having such a hard time with it? I'm not afraid of dying some day. I haven't been afraid of death for quite some time. It's not death that scares me. I think I have trouble shaking this feeling that I had other options and I regret not taking them. And that's nonsense. I'm here for a reason, for a purpose, and obviously that purpose was never to be stunningly gorgeous and thin and wealthy. Yeah. My reasons for being though seem too far outside what this physical world believes are the reasons for living. They're convinced it's about being rich or beautiful or whatever amazing thing is in this week. How does that old line go "He who dies with the most toys wins." I know better. That's just a cover in the end for why we're really here; to learn and grow. The toys and the looks and the celebrity are carrots to keep you breathing.


See I know all this. I think I've come so far. But then I spot the gray hair enmass and none of that matters. Have I even left the parking lot? I had or am having, you can never tell with forums, a discussion with some other Pagans about definitions. The word spirituality came up. I defined spirituality as the part of me connected to a greater whole, the part that is not physical of this physical world body. I am both. I am physical and I am spiritual. But am I really? See, there's the buggy little thing about it; who really knows? I mean I assume because spiritual beliefs have played such a big part in the evolution of the human race that there just must be something to it. Right?

You can never be 100% sure can you? Once you die the truth whatever it might be will become obvious, but you can't know before that second can you? On the other hand what does it really hurt to believe you are as much a spiritual being of soul and energy as you are a physical body? What's the harm in believeing? Wait for it . . . because then the "dies with the most toys" people will be right if you are wrong. There is no lesson, there is no God to stand before, there is no Summerland, there is no eternal soul. It was really all just about the toys.

This one is right up there with pancakes or french toast with your eggs, ya know?