Tag: reminiscing

“Is your life what you pictured a year ago?”

For the first time, I am going to use the prompt of the day that WordPress has recently been supplying: “Is your life what you pictured a year ago?”

Photo by samer daboul on Pexels.com

My life is exactly what I pictured a year ago, mostly because I did not have wishes or aspirations of where my life would be. This is sad because I had nothing to push myself toward; I just had to make it day-to-day. This is also happy because I was pretty satisfied with life last year and pretty satisfied now.

Would I have liked it if my writing career blew up? I think so, but I don’t know if I’m up to two full-time jobs at this point in my life. I’m almost 60, after all. (NOTE: If the bluebird of happiness drops me a successful writing career, I will gladly suffer.)

Would I have liked a lottery win? I’ll be honest — probably not. My husband wants to win the big Powerball; I just feel like the changes inherent in winning lots of money would be destabilizing. Yes, I would like to retire early, but I don’t want to be obsessed with money, which is an idiosyncratic result of having a lot of money.

But those are extraordinary happenings, and so I didn’t dwell on them. My life is almost exactly as I figured it would be (except for my father dying, and even then it wasn’t unexpected at his age).

What do I see my life like next year?

I suppose this is a legitimate question at this time of year. I see my life being a lot like this year. Hopefully, another novel or two; a few more readers, but not much changed. No sweeping changes. I have my fingers crossed for no big changes, because at my age, many of those can be catastrophic.

Here’s hoping for another cozy, uneventful year.

Music and my past



Music brings my mind back to the past.


The ’80s Singer-Songwriter playlist plays on the stereo, and I realize that it was almost 40 years ago that I was starting college, and Springsteen playing “Hungry Heart” makes me remember that I was curious once, walking into local stores in Campustown and browsing for things I had no money for.

I was hungry for experience. By myself, usually, because I didn’t understand why I needed other people to go explore. I was an introvert even then, but I didn’t understand it. I didn’t seek out music, but it found me in the shops, in the computer lab, in pirated tapes from my friends. I followed my boyfriends to concerts — I remember listening to the Ramones in the most acoustically unsound building on the U of I campus, and Jethro Tull — where did I see Jethro Tull? 

Later, when I gave up on boyfriends and made friends, we listened to local Irish and bluegrass music. A local music “pusher” turned me on to Gaelic pop and Handel’s Water Music. The radio still played on through, and I soaked it up like osmosis.

In a way, I hate reminiscing, because I want my focus to be on the present. I’m not done exploring yet, just because COVID keeps me cooped up. I do intense searches on the Internet for my writing, and for my latest hobby, sourdough bread baking, and for all the little fact-grabbing. I have not studied anyone’s psyche (the intense focus of a crush) lately, and I’m not sure I want another one of those at my age. 

I hate the fact that I just used the phrase “at my age” — I want to be young again, but with the knowledge and the calm with which I meet life now. This is impossible and a waste of time to wish for. So I will let the music tear my heart out, and I will build a heart of calm in its place.