THE SILENT BOOMER BEAT IN A DEADFALL

Michael J.

Tired this morning and not up for creative writing. Old age supplies me with droopy days as well as peppy days, and "being 75" doesn't ask me if I want what it's giving me on any given day. Of course, at my age, with my goal to get someone other than myself to publish my work, every delay, every missed day of writing feels like a deep forest deadfall.

However, I've decided recently I'm not going to force myself to write when I'm groggy and sub-par physically, and further, I'm not going to get down in the dumps over it. I've decided to accept those days when I'm not up to the creative task.

Acceptance is a good tool for all problematical conditions. Michael J. Fox in my most recent AARP magazine says that he finds his state of mind on any given day is directly proportional to his acceptance of his condition and inversely proportional to his expectations. I'm all over that, Michael.

This morning my obvious problem is that I didn't follow my new sleeping/waking regime. I was not accepting a condition of modern life and angrily barking late on commentary pages at ghosts and goblins. If I don't get any writing done today, I'll accept that and try to enjoy a sweetly relaxed day today. Maybe I'll go grocery shopping with my wife. Being in love with her is something not at all hard to accept.