... stale toast popped up in Pompeii ...

Call it a short attention span. Call it ADHD. Call it selfishness. Call it driven. Call it a second childhood. Call it a trophy wife. Call it whatever you will. Know it as fear. Some people make their decisions all because of it. Others battle with it regularly. Some have conquered it, although it is still there, skulking behind insecurities and dreams let go. Time leads the opposing forces. Time is relentless. Time has tools we cannot match. When Time passes, we are left older, dying still.

As for me, getting older bothers me. However, the notable affects of age on my face or body or dating prospects cause me little concern. I am tortured with things left undone. "Sitting on a sunset, smiles become vivid recollections and even pictures will not remain – memories can’t last forever, like stale toast stuck, popped up in Pompeii and frozen to yesterday." ( a favorite poem)

I, to my knowledge, have not reached the sunset. Still, like those memories that Time molds, dreams, goals, projects - all are at the mercy of Time. I can be brilliant at the creative process. I can be brilliant at many other tasks. I am pitiful at prioritizing my own goals. Put me in the corporate office, and I can prioritize. Been there. Succeeded there. For my own life, however, I have, at times, an irrational fear of so much left undone, so much potential now lying lifeless in the streets of my private Pompeii.

From talking to others, I know that, for some, Time threatens other strongholds. For them, it may be beauty, athletic ability, relationships that are threatened. How about you? If forced to admit it, what about the passage of time scares you, theatens you, or otherwise leads you to move on, leaving such thoughts as far behind as possible?

I started this blog, and named it, in order to detail my journey of stripping away the unnecessary. At least, stripping it away until the absolutely essential things were identified. Once those are dealt with, maybe there would be room for the unnecessary. As I have pondered this process while losing count of sheep, considered it over a good riesling, discussed it while sharing nachos, and generally just contemplated the minuscule components of a life in process, I am learning that what is "essential" is extremely subjective. Not that I didn't know that beforehand. It's just - I realize that, as well as I know myself, I am hesitant to let go of things that are essential today. And by today, I mean forever. For now.

Reminds me of all those boxes in the attic. They're filled with high school crap. "The kids may find it interesting one day" has always been my reason for keeping them. I now am starting to believe that they won't ever find that stuff interesting. Oh, sure. They may love to see some old report cards, but they're all the same, pretty much. I could keep the final report card from each year. The notebooks with doodling in the margins? Burn them. The invitations to parties and proms and graduations? The burn pile. Did I really think the kids would be interested? To quote another....hmphf. I am a romantic, not a stoic, and my emotional being delights in the accumulation of the crap - the measurements of a life lived. Believe me, I see the foolishness and even the pathos in such a thought. So it all comes back to "who am I?" One thing I know: In my own private Pompeii, I need my own private Vesuvius.

I may need help putting out the fire.