A Long Time Away

Many months have passed since my last blog, and the reason for my absence to do with illness, which seems a somewhat plausible or implausible reason for my absence. Needless to say it's given me an opportunity to reassess the reasons for writing the blog in the first place.

Whilst my original intention was to record the events of my life as I ambled through it, with the intention of waffling on, tackling those subjects that attracted my short attention span, hopefully in an humourous fashion, I sadly lost my zest for it, mostly due to an extended period of writer's block, which is the bane of any writer.

So where to now? I ask myself, sitting in Starbuck's, drinking cold coffee on a sunny but cold February early afternoon, surrounded by as cosmopolitan clientele as it's possible to get in the middle of Bavaria. What direction should I amble in? another reasonable question I'm contemplating, given the delightful news that  the old grey matter is still partially functional, and capable of writing short sentences, incapable of writing words  greater than two syllables, which makes life considerably easier.

As is my wont for satisfying my creative juices, the time away hasn't been entirely devoid of doing anything creative, it's simply been concerned with other things that don't require much in the way of exercising the aging grey lump, that sits vaguely perched upon stooped shoulders, once upon a time muscular shoulders, now bent with the passing of time. But that's the imperative nature of biology and the physiological decay of a rotting human body.

No, such events are nothing I'm overly concerned about, they are as inevitable as they are predictable. Life moves with the certainty that at some point it will cease, and the road ahead will end at a road block of life's own choosing. Such a thought is nothing more than a symptom of realising, and accepting one's own mortality in the great scheme of things. Nor is it particularly morose to dwell on such matters. In a strange way morbidity needs to be acknowledged, not ignored, if only because it frees that great piece of gristle to ponder upon more enlightening topics, such as 'where do I go from here?'

'O bugger off!' it might be uttered out there, and no doubts a sentiment expressed with the same passion as a stubborn mule, intent on kicking you because you gave your last sugar lump to that delightful looking but ultimately lonely horse in the paddock, who to all intents and purposes is heading to the knackers yard sooner than you're heading for the crematorium. Both places dictating a final stop, both equally abrupt in defining the final demise of two unrelated natural specimens.

But whereas the horse sees out its last days, slowly munching and grazing the fodder offered it, thus living gracefully with a level of dignity afforded it by kind owners, I need to do something positive, to which brings me back to where I started, and where now I'm metaphorically stood at a crossroads, facing an uncertain direction, which way to amble on forwards.

My next blog will have me on the way, no doubt fuelled by the certainty of the direction offering a straighter, but not entirely straight, course to follow.