Starting Over

If my life had a soundtrack it would be Modest Mouse all the time these days. I've stumbled onto  Ocean Breathes Salty, and Missed the Boat, both ditties capturing a sense of bewilderment at life and wondering what constitutes not wasting it. An approaching surgery date and my nasty habit of catastrophic thinking force me to consider what is truly important and how the hell is it I find myself rushing through my days and schedules. It's likely I'll live after going under general anesthesia, despite my exaggerated and self-absorbed worries to the contrary. Once the fog of pain meds lifts, I figure this unanticipated halt  will give me time to assess what is essential and what is crap. It's a chance, really, to slow down. I'll have every excuse to say no to obligations. I'll have every opportunity to minimize and, I hope, find richness in less. That's about as much a positive spin as I can put on this thing, but it's enough.  World at Large gets me thinking on how, though I've physically not moved around too much, life seems marked by starting over and starting over, moving from one phase to another. I stayed at home with my kids when they were little. I've worked simple jobs since. I threw pottery for a season, knitted scarves for everyone I knew another. I find myself in this teacher role lately. All the pleasure and insight from my past six years from yoga will now significantly change. I don't know which parts of me will hang around. I feel like I'm heading out to the porch to have a thought, but when I get to the door will I be able to stop? I don't know. Let's see. At any rate, the Dashboard is broken, but I've still got the radio.