Honesty comes with aging. Not necessarily an open honesty, rather a refined pick & choose honesty. That’s the kind that many writers and artists and ‘creators’ or ‘makers’ (as some style themselves), tend towards; a prevaricated honesty. A tool, a refined and sifted openness that tends towards varnishing. A way of appearing honest while creating more fog onto placid seeming waters. For effect, no real purpose.

The problem with that type of honesty is that it no longer works. I used to be able to fool myself with it. That’s what made it so ‘precious’, which often creates a feeling of unfinished accomplishment.

I’m becoming more in tune with the double-edged nature of aging. Lots of seeming understanding, which often is just a glossed over and un-investigated awareness of one’s past, motives and intentions.

I’m finding myself in the strange, yet probably prosaic position of seeing my mental diminution accelerating and there may be nothing I can do to mitigate it. But, there are ways to redirect it. They involve effort, willingness and allowing.

Yikes! I’m too old for this? (Hopeful piano tinkling in background.)

Old feelings that haven’t been noticeable are reappearing. New wrappings around well used yearnings, wantings, wishings and if-only’s, doesn’t turn them into presents, it just becomes more opportunity for creating clutter. The worst part is, it feels fresh.

Now, that’s a delusion! Thank you. I’m sure its not one I’ve perfected but do take curious pride in, and I know it is just putting off the inevitable of having to face the simple fact that, sooner than later, there will be even less control and actionable awareness in this loss of self. The very thing that I’ve been trying to loose all these years of Zen and associated practice, but now I realize I have to let go of control and have an opportunity to practice real trust. It’s frightening, this ‘Letting go’. Yet very attractive and beckoning.

Releasing the grip of self on the

Self, is supposed to be freeing, but

It’s a slow undoing of knots, a

Procession of events. What’s next?