Do you remember when every move was calculated and effective, every motion quick and accurate, every deadline fourteen minutes away? The pace, the pace. Now! Or better, yesterday.
I don't live that way anymore. I couldn't live like that even if the desire to do so were present. I have two speeds: exceedingly slow and can you still see me moving?. Do I still accomplish things? Not much, but I can still shower and dress myself. I live in gratitude fo what I can do.
Will the world, or even the nation or my community be improved if I watch congressional hearings, form biting opinions about the state of affairs in which we are entangled? They will not, so therefore I do not invest any of my precious remaining time doing that. Same for most "news" outlets. I hate this, but I have become so skeptical that I herewith validate my father's opinion regarding reporters and pundits. "The only thing you can believe in the newspapers is the funnies page." But that is not all bad; saves me more of that dear commodity called time.
So what do I have to contribute to the conversation over the coffee mugs at the old coots' gathering? Pleasant words about the weather. A cheery, "How're things?" and a firm "Good day!" if someone should steer the conversation toward Washington, the State Capital, the mayor's office.
Seriously.
Think the wain will huht the whubob? (The "ahh" key quit on me. Sowwy,)