This story – The Witch of Portobello – tells me its ok to enjoy washing the dishes and taking my time to do them. This book confirms its better to dance with your eyes closed than open. This book is reminding me of the importance to do things slowly so I can pay better attention to my surroundings and to simply enjoy the moment better.
I’m only at page 73. But I’m enjoying it. So far on this trip I’ve read close to 15 books. Some were iffy at best, and others were mind boggling.
Marinas are cool – most of them have a book lending thing. Kind of like the need-a-penny-leave-a-penny jar. But better because its about books. Earlier on my trip I picked up a copy of Buzzati’s The Tartar Steppes. Wow. After reading that one (it’s compared to Kafka’s work) I had to take a break from reading. But talk about perfect timing…
Its about how much time we waste in life as we sit and wait for something to happen, and the fear to walk away and that something may have happened in our absence. Yet as we sit and wait and wait we are convinced our life has meaning, and that we are special… Yet years later we realize we simply wasted our life away in a menial manner.
As I sometimes sit and stare up at our sails for hours non end, wondering what my life is meant to be. Who am I? What am I doing? Where am I going? What am I supposed to do? To be?
I’m turning 46 this month. Forty-fuckin-six years old. I segwayed without transition from people asking me for my ID when I buy beer to being asked if I’m retired.
And I still don’t have a clue as to what I want to be when I grow up. I still, to this day, associate with the Mini-Wheat character when he asks if he’s healthy and good for you or a nice sweet and tasty snack. Does the Mini-Wheat dude get his limo in the end? Is there a happy ending for those who always wonder who they are?