Future Me

I read a recent article about how we see ourselves. The article’s essence was that a study showed that people could readily see how they’d changed, but didn’t think they would change in the future.

That’s an odd conclusion. Looking back on how and why I change, I can appreciate how the world changed, forcing me to change. Mentors, friends, and family members have died. Their influence remains, but it’s faded.

Sometimes, I think of it like dominoes. I’m in a long row that’s been set up to fall over when tapped, part of a pretty design. Matters that tap me over include my changing body. My hearing is damaged and my vision has lost its acuity. My metabolism has slowed, as has my physical energy, and my muscles are weaker. My joints are stiffer, and my athleticism and coordination have diminished. My sleeping patterns have changed. I endured illnesses and injuries which changed my trajectory. I’ve gained weight and developed gluten and dairy reactions.  I mostly bloat. Before I bloated, I didn’t understand what people meant when they said, “I feel bloated today.” Now I understand.

Our food chain has changed. What impact that has on me, I probably won’t ever know. I was introduced to new foods, and dishes from other cultures, and I was introduced to better quality food, increasing my awareness of what quality means, and how it influences me.

Technology has advanced, enabling me to hear more music, inviting me in as a witness to more amazing events and moments. I usually have a laptop or tablet nearby to keep me connected to others. I’ve never met many of the people who are in my circle of friendship. Science has advanced, giving me more to think about. Researchers, psychologists and sociologists have gained insights into how our bodies, societies, and civilizations function. Engaging TED Talks and blogs help socialize new information. Big data analytics keep expanding on what we know, or what might be going on.

Our society and government have changed. Events like 9/11 changed us. I make more effort to understand the world than I used to make. After traveling and living outside of the United States, I became more watchful about politics, equality, justice, and our environment. As our politics have changed, and groups like white supremacists and Nazis have grown, I’ve been forced to question what I know. Likewise, revelations of sexual assault, news of murders, and lies by politicians and others sharpen my desire to know the truth and understand.

I’ve read many more books since I was young. I’ve written books. Both activities encouraged thinking, and from the thinking has come change in my views, approaches, appreciation, and understanding.

My brain has changed, apparently from triggers built in at some genetic level. I’ve become more impatient. Lessons learned through betrayal, resentment, success, and failure have fostered changes to my behavior. I work on improving myself more than I used to, when improving myself meant working out or taking classes.

I’ve lost hair on my head. My hairline recedes and my baldness expands. My hair thins and grays. Meanwhile, the rest of me becomes hairier. With my aging and changes, I became more invisible to a larger segment of population.

Or maybe that’s just me and my perceptions. They can change.

I can extrapolate some ways that I’ll probably change. I think I’ll be more withdrawn, speaking less, and enjoying small talk less. I hope to be writing and publishing more, but that’s a hope that I’ve been nurturing for over twenty years. My future diet will probably be more limited, I’ll be less active, and pop culture will seem more alien. I’ve always disliked talking on the telephone, and avoid it when I can. I suspect it’ll be hard to get future me on the phone.

I’ve been fortunate that I’ve escaped being caught in disasters. That luck can change. It feels, sometimes, like the hazardous air from the wildfires of the last few years have changed me. Certainly, that smoke, combined with the blazing heat, increased my depression, depleted my energy, and sapped my will. It certainly changed my summer and expectations.

Then, there are the other people in my life. Their changes, illnesses, success and failure will change me, too. That’s one constant that’s not likely to change.

All these variables will cause changes in me. I don’t know what I’ll be like in the future, but I don’t think that who I am now is who I will be.

Fairies

“What’s this?” I asked myself, speaking only in my mind.

I looked around. Nobody was in sight, but on my desk was an unexpected fresh cup of steaming coffee.

The coffee fairy had been by, I realized.

I’m very fond of fairies. Besides the coffee fairy, the doughnut, cookie, and brownie fairies have visited me.

Fairies do have a dark side. Just this morning some feline fairy left a gift on my shower mat. They also left another gift on the bathroom rug. It had to be a fairy, because my floofs were all bland innocence and whiskers.

Some fairies have never visited me, despite my hopes, like the lottery fairy (“You have to have a ticket!”), but the writing fairy often comes, streaming words through me. The words often make sense, too. Well, sometimes.

Time to write edit like crazy at least one more time, and see what the fairies have for me.

 

Another Robert Said

I must say, he has large pockets. It’s also the advantage computers and Kindles offer; you can have things to read and write as long as you have power.

Of course, that’s their disadvantage, innit?

Another James Said

I feel the same. Juggling, a scene, character, setting, or bit of dialogue crystallizes into a pattern. That’s the start. Then it’s a continual process of juggling, crystallizing, filtering, processing, and typing, exploring, finding, and filling the pattern.

Another Fun Session

It was fun editing Six (with Seven) today. Written over a year ago, I’d forgotten the surreal aspects that the book took on at that time, dealing with a character’s memory, sex, and imagination as separate entities. I had fun with the arguments that they had among themselves and Philip K. Dick flavor infused in some of the dialogue and situations.

The character’s name is Madi (Madison) Handley. Because she’s a pirate, she modeled her memory after a pirate, Grutte Piers, and insists on having a parrot, J.R. As Handley’s existence streamed into my awareness, her name came from another blogger (J.R. Handley) and a barista (Madi), with the parrot named after J.R. Handley as well.

Her story is running in parallel to Pram’s terra-forming story, and I alternated between the two in the chapters in this section of the novel. I have a lot of affection for Pram and Handley, and love discovering their lives in space.

Coffee gone, and damn, I’m hungry. Time to stop writing editing like crazy, at least for today.

Thursday’s Theme Music

Continuing a newly established trend of using my walking to inspire my theme music instead of my dreams and pets, this song popped into my head today.

I’m not an amazing walker, but I usually manage to walk seven to ten miles a day, typically in three or four segments. I like walking as part of my writing rituals. But once I’m done writing in my head, my thoughts wander. Sometimes, inspired by the writing or editing process, a song pops in.

So it was today. Finishing with my phantom writing/editing and feeling happy, I told my muses and myself, “That’s it. We got it.” That prompted the drumming intro to the popular hit by The Go-Go’s (a spelling which maddens me, as I think that it should be The Go-Gos, but whatever), “We Got the Beat” (1982).

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