Not a Bad Thing

I must admit to feeling some internal pressure as of late to pick up the pace a bit and live more fully and authentically. I’m not saying this is a bad thing; in fact, at least in my case, I would suggest that this existential angst I’m experiencing is for the better. With this pandemic stepping in and letting me know that I’m not nearly as special as my ego would like me to believe, I hear the proverbial clock on the wall ticking louder these days. No, I’m not ill (as far as I’m aware, anyway); I am, however, rapidly approaching my sixty-first birthday and feeling that perhaps I haven’t used my time here as well as I might have. Again, not a bad thing, as I believe it’s actually emanating from a place of love and genuine concern for my well-being. Similar to a dear friend or neighbor pounding on my door in the middle of the night, letting me know that my house is on fire. Not necessarily pleasant, but welcomed and appreciated nevertheless.