Sitting in my car waiting for the torrential downpour to subside, it seemed as good a time as any to collect my thoughts into a column of sorts.
As I approach the one-year anniversary of my making the fairly steep transition from the world of weekly newspapers to that of corporate marketing, it strikes me how very much things have changed in my life over the course of the last 12 months.
It is with great sadness I share the news that my little Spudley, also affectionately known as Norty, passed on to the little aquarium in the sky this morning. Although he wasn’t as well known as his predecessor—only penning one “column” through the years—I felt it only fitting to put a few words together in his honor . . .
As I lay here on the couch on this slightly overcast Saturday, beach outing in flux, evening fireworks subject to cancellation due to passing thunderstorms, I am once again reminded that plans—as much as we continue to believe we have the complete autonomy to make them—are but a rough outline of the reality which so often befalls us.
Summer is barely underway, yet it’s already shaping up to be a season of surprises. Who’s to say what the next two months will bring? Certainly not me.
Used to be, I could turn out an adequate column in under an hour, on deadline, with little preparation—or prior inspiration. I’d stare at the computer screen while eating my usual 3 p.m. Chipotle lunch at my desk, willing an idea to materialize from thin air.
Hello, it’s me.
I haven’t written in awhile. Two months and 10-odd days, to be precise. But who’s counting? Not me, surely—not until I glance at the calendar and realize, wow, it’s been a bit since I’ve taken the time to thread my meandering thoughts into words.
I suppose not having a weekly deadline to meet will do that to you.
Today marks my six-month anniversary at Morey Creative Studios—a tiny milestone compared to the 13 years, three months and 29 days celebrated at the ol’ South Bay, but significant nonetheless.
It’s funny, the way particular dates seem to repeatedly resonate through the years. Scrolling through my “Memories” on Facebook, I came across another marker of sorts from just four short years ago, heralding the publication of my 499th column. The title, fittingly enough, was “Shifting the Stones,” and it began with a quote from Confucius:
The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
Another year over, and a new one just begun . . . and what have you done? So far, not a whole lot.
I read an article this morning which suggested, rather than compile a list of resolutions that will most likely be rendered meaningless by month’s end, a far better approach is to reflect on the previous year’s accomplishments before setting any future longterm goals.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
2018, the year that was. For some, a collection of beautiful memories to be cherished as we turn the page and begin anew. For others, a shining example of missteps not to be replicated in the coming year.
For me, a bit of both.
‘Tis the season of giving, of celebrating with friends and loved ones, of looking ahead to the new while being sure to cherish the memories of what has come before.
I tend to do this one of two ways, either through the written word, or more recently, through the lens of my (borrowed) camera.
It’s not that I choose to hide behind these mechanisms, per se; rather, I feel they provide me with a forum to best express my perspectives in a truly unique manner.
Today is the second birthday of my second betta, a momentous occasion if ever there was one. While the extraordinary Norton von Spudley isn’t quite the charmer his predecessor Buddy the Betta was, he has grown to be an endearing little fellow in his own right over these last 24 months, flitting and scooting to and fro as he vacuums the gravel for remnants from breakfast, flipping the tail to all who dare peer too closely into his cozy abode.
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans . . . a sentiment expressed by many, immortalized by one, John Lennon.
It is a theory we all claim to recognize, and perhaps even intend to thwart by vowing to spend less time analyzing the nuances of life in favor of, well, actually living it.