Frustrated!

I haven't posted anything in a long time.  Was it because I haven't had anything to say?  No, its not that.  Not a day goes by when I don't think about what I have to say.  Yet, I still don't say it.  Why?  I have concluded that my silence comes from a sense of frustration associated with a realization that my comments would be negative observations about what is going on in the world around me and that nothing I would say will make a difference or change anything.

So I'm breaking my silence not to add a few negative observations but to ask myself what is generating my silence, what is behind it.  I am not looking for THE answer.  I'm more interested in delving into the question to see what I can see rather than solving or resolving where my action, or lack of action, comes from.

This may take a few posts, so bear with me.

Aging, getting old, realizing that the time I have left is limited, has my attention in recent days much more than ever before.  As I think about the upcoming election, the next World Cup, a next birthday I wonder whether I'll be alive to see it happen.  I seem to be in good health, at 91 I have less stamina than in the past, but my cognition has not deteriorated and for the most part I live a life similar to what it has been when I was much younger.  But until recently the thought of maybe not being alive in the not-too-distant future didn't occupy my thoughts.

So maybe these new thoughts are, for me, part of the aging process.

I notice these days that gratitude is not an abstract concept.  I am consciously grateful for my blessings.  I am grateful every day for the life I have.  I consider my relationship with gratitude as a very positive aspect of being 91.  I take nothing for granted.  I don't think I am owed what I have.  Nor have I don't anything to deserve it.  I'm a lucky guy and freely acknowledge my good fortune.

About the many negative observations that I could talk about today?  For now I'll let them be and focus more on the stuff that's really important.

More later . . .