age

Over the last week or so, I've had hints of something - like an invisible muse teasing me. But it wasn't invisible. It was the photograph of the man looking for glass and metal at the side of the road. It was the bedridden man I just visited. It was the deluge of social media around me. It was staring me in the face even as I looked myself in the mirror.

It was only after speaking with the man recovering from his stroke, who may never walk again even with therapy, that it came home. The difference between the young and the old is simple: The young dream and the old have forgotten their dreams. The old wander the roadsides looking for something to keep them in beans. Even as I immerse myself in social media, gleaning the side of the social media road for original thoughts and ideas - or even better ones - I wonder how many sit at their desks doing the same things.

Hoping someone can dream for them.

It's not to say that this is always the case. I wouldn't even say that it is the majority of people who use social media - but it is apparent that there is a void in many people's lives that social media somehow - hopefully- fills. And what is that void? Is it the discussions and ideas? For me, that is true - geographically, I'm almost never around people interested in the same things. But that can't be true for everyone or the world would be a lot more to my liking since everyone would be me.

There's an old man in a bed maybe 100 yards away from me right now, over a wall and through some louvres, who once dreamt of traveling. Over decades of his life he never realized that dream - the constant pressure of business and finance kept him hermetically sealed from his dreams. In that, he is not too different from the man in the picture.

Even as we waterboard ourselves in the sea of social media, we need to remember to dream. Social media means nothing unless you bring something to the collective. And to bring something of worth to the collective, you have to be innovative. To innovate, you have to imagine. To imagine, you have to dream.

Don't just tour your prison. Break out of the box. Breathe.

"I rarely see you these days."

"You see me every day."

"You seem distant, and you never seem to remember the lecture I give you on not wasting opportunities and not bogging yourself down in other people's issues."

"You're going to go on with the lecture again, are you?"

"You leave me little choice."

"Well, get on with it. I have things to do."

"Keep looking for those opportunities and stop wasting your energy on fixing everything that you can't save."

"That's it, right?"

"Yes, that's it."

If I stood outside of the Universe, it would probably look about the same size as other Universes, give or take the standard deviation.

Mental Note: Women are the first to tell someone that the person has gained weight. Yet it's the last thing a woman typically wants to hear.

Asked: "When did you get grey?"
Answered, concerned: "When was the last time you had your eyes tested?"

I always say that a person is as good as their choices. I have neglected to mention that a person's choices, at a certain point, are as good as the culmination of all their other choices. But that takes too long to explain.

When you dry out the The Grapes of Wrath, do you get The Raisins of Wrath? Do they taste good in bagels with cinnamon?

Religion without God is atheism. So where's God?

Said to a child misbehaving: "The Order of Twiddling Thumbs Does Not Approve." It's all in the delivery, you know... (There's something here I'm going to play with sometime).

Asked by a recent introduction about how to be a writer: "Eat lots of alphabet soup."

Is there a 'Chicken Soup for Authors of Chicken Soup Books'?

People buy exercise and diet books to keep their dusty exercise equipment from floating away.

Some people search for meaning. I wander around kicking the dust below and mumbling, "that's not it."

Some people find what they're looking for because they define what they are looking for by their search. The answer is defined by their question.

Some people get lost on the paths less traveled. But lost to whom? The 'lost' typically know exactly where they are...