I’ve been away from home for the past four days.
I’d every intention of reading a book on the plane which I’ve been asked to review for a literary magazine, but a reality TV show about a chartered, luxury yacht crew — and their in fighting and dangerous liaisons — was more compelling. (I know those are five hours I’ll never be able to get back, and I’m all right with that. In fact, I might even watch that insipid program on my west-to-east trip tomorrow.)
I, also, had every intention of putting many hours into the editing of my first novel which, for various reasons, is not going to be the first story I try to get published.
I didn’t make much progress on that either.
And I’m wondering why.
My guess is that I’m not into the idea of “reviewing the past” or contemplating my “future assignment.”
I’m stuck in the present middle: enjoying being among family, moving at a slow pace, and savoring the moments as they unfold.
Even now as I write, I’m listening to my brother-in-law singing — off key (Sorry, Eric) — “Runnin’ Down a Dream” by Tom Petty. This is a song he and I both agree should be in every movie with a driving sequence, i.e., every movie.
(Sidenote: Joe Cocker’s “Feelin’ Alrght” should also, in my opinion, make an audible appearance in every movie where something good happens to the protagonist after something bad happened, i.e., every movie.)(Please note: Also both songs employ the cunning use of a single quotation mark in place of the otherwise implied “g.” Clearly an indication of musical greatness.)
Tomorrow, I’ll be home: thrust back into the present reality of my life, which means time with my children and spouse, time writing, and time steeped in the “right now” of life.
It’s a challenge dwelling in the past (needing to edit) as much as it’s hard contemplating the future (having to write a book review). I’m better at the “right now” because with one foot in each spot, the essential parts of me are in the middle/present.