XLVI (46) Mornings

I’m trying to become more of a morning person… which is difficult considering I’ve been somewhat of an insomniac since… well for as long as I can remember, but definitely since I first confronted my own existential dread at 8 years old. Maybe it kicked in after my parents divorce… nothing last forever, this life included.

However, this new play I’m working on, about my Grandfather who I didn’t really get to know very well, is making me rethink my whole concept of life, death, time, and the power of storytelling. I know that this life as we know it ends, but like all things I’ve experienced, endings don’t actually have a finite point to them, there’s a flow. If there’s a flow that we are part of, then we are in the same water we were in before, and it’ll still be the same water wherever we end up next, although the scenery and level of rapids may change.

That said, I’m more of a morning person than I was 5 years ago when I was full on in the bar scene, but my mind races at night. And I’ve been doing a fair share of time traveling, through my life, and back in time looking through the eyes.