Blog Dis
Getting on...
2024-07-18
When your brain runs on the fuel of imagination, it feels like the wheels never stop turning. It's high time that I blog a series and call it 'Getting', as in Getting On, Getting Off, Getting Enough and Getting Along" so here's the first installment.
"Getting on in years," is an expression that we easily and casually trot out when we're referring to our pets and cars and sometimes our grandparents or worse our better half. Tsk. Tsk. I'm guilty of having used this expression myself more than once during those years when I'd refer to my mature kitties after they had surpassed that magical timeline of 10+ years, which for felines is a big deal. My female kitty lived for 14 years and my male for 16 years.
Unlike our youth, as we get on in years, some of our peculiar habits that were intrinsic to our natures, or at least we believe they were, will likely diminish to the point of not being demonstrated or recognized at all. A good example is staying out to all hours, and refusing to adhere to the standard practice of observing a regimented work schedule, according to the norm, which requires you to get your fanny into bed at a reasonable hour. My female kitty caroused at night in my living room, making noises and getting into fights with her brother, or she'd knock things over, and spread kitty litter to the four corners. At one time too, I couldn't sit on the couch w/o her coming up to me to be brushed, pushing her head into my chest, purring before I'd even pick up the brush. But as she had aged past 14 yrs, she barely emerged out of her cubby hole, using it like a hiding place, what all cats do when their time is near. Nor was she active at night or clamoring to be brushed. I've held this opinion that while humans are vested with the power to reflect on our actions and those of others, animals don't reflect as do with, and therefore they accept, not consciously mind you, but rather automatically; they accept their old age and the inevitable decline, until meeting their death.
When the time comes at this definitive point in your life, will you accept the end with equanimity as much as death will accept you?
Getting on in life means you're entering into that cycle when your body and its vitality is winding down, to where, I don't really know but down you and I and all animals, insects, plants and even the inanimate objects like buildings and other man-made structures on this planet will surely go, down to a place where decay is the natural process and the end marks the disbursement of your special energy. When we're getting on in life we should've reached that place in our lives when reconciliation has long occurred for all the stupidity and regrets we acquired in our waking moments, for those times when our hard-headed thinking had prevented us from seeing the obvious. Old age does this to you, clarifies the maybe and what-ifs, transforming them into the real, for the most part, not discounting the fact that some lose their faculties altogether and perhaps for good reason.
I cried both times when I put down my two kitties; first my female Nutmeg to be followed two years down the road by her brother, Brando. Both were the sweetest little heartbeats with whom I had shared my space. Losing them was a kick in the pants, as it forced me to reflect on the passage of time and how long I'd taken care of these fur-babies, and how much time had left its mark on me.
You may recall that famous line from the HBO Series, The Sopranos, when Paulie declares to Tony, "First its the teeth to go, then it's the eyes, then it hurts to take a piss." I fear it will be something like that, though if you've placed some focus on moderation and didn't drink a bathtub of homemade gin every day, or smoke a truckload of cigarettes until you coughed up black sludge, went so-so on the sugar intake (by avoiding pop drinks) and maybe made an effort to eat a reasonably balanced diet, plus exercise regularly... there's a good chance your end will feel less harrowing, then say those who accepted their fate at the outset and didn't apply discipline on any level, for any length of time, thinking why bother?
When I studied political science, taking night courses at University, to include correspondence courses, I discovered Henry David Thoreau (American essayist, poet and naturalist; d. 1862) and his essay that argued the value of civil disobedience in an unjust state. Mr. Thoreau wrote one of my favourite pieces of text of all time, which continues to inspire me to this day, and that is to suck the marrow out of life, until I look into the empty hull of a hollowed bone, knowing that before I get to the point of no return, that I've gone to a few places, seen and done a few questionable things.
This is all any of us can hope to achieve, to leave behind a trace like some words and deeds to remind ourselves, our friends and dearest family and the Universe that we possessed the power at one time to inspire the next generation.
"Getting on in years," is an expression that we easily and casually trot out when we're referring to our pets and cars and sometimes our grandparents or worse our better half. Tsk. Tsk. I'm guilty of having used this expression myself more than once during those years when I'd refer to my mature kitties after they had surpassed that magical timeline of 10+ years, which for felines is a big deal. My female kitty lived for 14 years and my male for 16 years.
Unlike our youth, as we get on in years, some of our peculiar habits that were intrinsic to our natures, or at least we believe they were, will likely diminish to the point of not being demonstrated or recognized at all. A good example is staying out to all hours, and refusing to adhere to the standard practice of observing a regimented work schedule, according to the norm, which requires you to get your fanny into bed at a reasonable hour. My female kitty caroused at night in my living room, making noises and getting into fights with her brother, or she'd knock things over, and spread kitty litter to the four corners. At one time too, I couldn't sit on the couch w/o her coming up to me to be brushed, pushing her head into my chest, purring before I'd even pick up the brush. But as she had aged past 14 yrs, she barely emerged out of her cubby hole, using it like a hiding place, what all cats do when their time is near. Nor was she active at night or clamoring to be brushed. I've held this opinion that while humans are vested with the power to reflect on our actions and those of others, animals don't reflect as do with, and therefore they accept, not consciously mind you, but rather automatically; they accept their old age and the inevitable decline, until meeting their death.
When the time comes at this definitive point in your life, will you accept the end with equanimity as much as death will accept you?
Getting on in life means you're entering into that cycle when your body and its vitality is winding down, to where, I don't really know but down you and I and all animals, insects, plants and even the inanimate objects like buildings and other man-made structures on this planet will surely go, down to a place where decay is the natural process and the end marks the disbursement of your special energy. When we're getting on in life we should've reached that place in our lives when reconciliation has long occurred for all the stupidity and regrets we acquired in our waking moments, for those times when our hard-headed thinking had prevented us from seeing the obvious. Old age does this to you, clarifies the maybe and what-ifs, transforming them into the real, for the most part, not discounting the fact that some lose their faculties altogether and perhaps for good reason.
I cried both times when I put down my two kitties; first my female Nutmeg to be followed two years down the road by her brother, Brando. Both were the sweetest little heartbeats with whom I had shared my space. Losing them was a kick in the pants, as it forced me to reflect on the passage of time and how long I'd taken care of these fur-babies, and how much time had left its mark on me.
You may recall that famous line from the HBO Series, The Sopranos, when Paulie declares to Tony, "First its the teeth to go, then it's the eyes, then it hurts to take a piss." I fear it will be something like that, though if you've placed some focus on moderation and didn't drink a bathtub of homemade gin every day, or smoke a truckload of cigarettes until you coughed up black sludge, went so-so on the sugar intake (by avoiding pop drinks) and maybe made an effort to eat a reasonably balanced diet, plus exercise regularly... there's a good chance your end will feel less harrowing, then say those who accepted their fate at the outset and didn't apply discipline on any level, for any length of time, thinking why bother?
When I studied political science, taking night courses at University, to include correspondence courses, I discovered Henry David Thoreau (American essayist, poet and naturalist; d. 1862) and his essay that argued the value of civil disobedience in an unjust state. Mr. Thoreau wrote one of my favourite pieces of text of all time, which continues to inspire me to this day, and that is to suck the marrow out of life, until I look into the empty hull of a hollowed bone, knowing that before I get to the point of no return, that I've gone to a few places, seen and done a few questionable things.
This is all any of us can hope to achieve, to leave behind a trace like some words and deeds to remind ourselves, our friends and dearest family and the Universe that we possessed the power at one time to inspire the next generation.
