One of the downsides of getting older is losing passion.
When I say passion, I don’t just mean the poetic, love-stuck physical passion of sex. I mean passion about life, living and things around me.
It wasn’t that many years ago that upon my return from a business trip my wife told me to stop pawing her. She never much cared for physical love. Her’s was more a love of having someone around. Don’t think she ever had a passionate day in her life.
I used to love sports cars. I used to have passion about my ‘vette, my alfa romeo, my 350z, etc. Now, it is gone. All gone.
I feel empty. Old. Useless. Nothing really matters. I think I understand why some people continue to work even when they don’t need to do so for financial reasons. Work, the accomplishment of SOMETHING, provides that passion which has long since dissolved in all the other facets of life.
Work provides the reason to get up in the morning and sit across the table from the person that you loved many years ago, but not so much now. It is the last passion to go as it is the passion of self-worth and self-respect.
It wasn’t that many years ago that I could not imagine retirement. Looking forward from my 30s, it seemed like such a waste of time: not being productive.
Things seem so different now. I enjoy my job – have a great job. Great boss. Wonderful pay. Fulfilling. However. However, I am increasingly looking forward to not having to show up at work and respond to the problem of the day. Thinking about retiring is taking a lot of my time.
Feeling moody today after listening to too much Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell.
I really enjoy their music as it reminds me of my youth in the 60s and 70s. Their stuff can be fairly emotional and it reminds me of how much of myself I have lost in the years in-between.
Money means nothing. Nothing at all.
I use the analogy of fish swimming upstream to mate and die. Having children already the urge to return “home” grows stronger by the day.
Having worked my &^% off over the years I have sacrificed friendship for financial success and as I approach retirement age I think about fish. I think about the journey over the rocks and pebbles always swimming against the current.
We humans are sort of like that. Our currents and rocks are different but they are also the same as they challenge us, wear us down and tear at our flesh and spirit.
I think myself an old salmon turning its nose from the sea towards the flow of the river. I feel the ancient pull and point myself towards the on-rushing fresh water headlong into my future.