The Words

RoomKeyPR

The observant among you will have noticed my absence in the past few weeks. Betty and I have been to Puerto Rico for mostly business. We are looking forward to that time of life that is called retirement. But much as a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly by entering a chrysalis, so too does it require a rather large amount of effort for one to become retired.

But this is a post that wishes to capture my feelings rather than to discuss where I have been and what I have been up to. For example last night I watched “The Way”. I gave it 5 stars. At first it was four but on reflection it was obvious that it was among the best I have seen or at least seems that way with the manner in which my thoughts have lately been attracted. However it is disturbing that in this movie as in “Departures” the root of the theme is death. But there is more to each movie. A tremendous under-current that flows with a life its own inspiring one to accomplish as much as possible in what little time remains.

The picture above comes from our room key to 714 at the top of the Holiday Inn Express in San Juan. Our arrival home was a torturous shock that left the entire PR experience in a dream like state. My own mind keeps wishing to understand how to convey the multitudes of feelings coursing through me but finds gathering the right words as difficult as walking on a highly polished floor in slippery shoes. Very much like Bambi unable to stand on a slick ice surface the right selection of words are there and then go sliding away before I can verbalize them.

My heart is still on the road. In my fear I see my hyperlinks as attached to a living being that constantly changes its shape. A lot of what I want expressed disappears or is altered with unintended advertisements and annoying messages. Yet words alone do not suffice. It is hard to accept that this is reality. That we are merely a collection of cells that have agreed to assist one another to live. Somewhere this conglomeration has developed at least what feels like a single person thinking a single thought when pondering who am I. But a close examination reveals the boundaries to be fuzzy and our concept of separate and alone mostly misguided. In fact all of our bodies actual matter can be fit in a thimble, for most of what we are is space. Actually most of what we are is spacetime.

Maybe what I seek to say is found in the manner in which I organize the words.