Nineteen Years Later: "It's a Long Road to Canaan on Bleecker Street"
Tuesday, July 11, 2023
What of my 16,439th day on this earth? What shall be of its fate?
This opening comes off far more epic than what it typically is; I expect today will be just another lightly-salted segment of a largely forgettable chain of events. Things like: setup another 2-day steep of cold, flavored coffee and run down budget inconsistencies—well, these are the things I have done before 4 AM today. For what it's worth, it has been another day where I woke up in the 2 AM hour, beating that 3 AM alarm, for a solid 4 hour and 17-minute slumber. Later today, I'll play this for the kids:
I'll add in some other instruction, prompt them to continue to write their chapter recap of Sunday's DnD session and so forth. I'll flip on the pool to flip the pool off again. I'll update Cronometer and then filter that data to my Google fitness sheet. I'll catch a few minutes of this episode from the Duck Call Room: #255. And so it goes.
This day will pass like so many before it, meaningless. Oh, I am not saying those specific things don't value. Clean laundry and dishes are a good thing! But, do these things really change anything? Contribute more than merely marginally—if at all? I suppose it is all the process; it is all a part of the prior post's drive to the end of the road.
Are these lyrics but my twentysomething's lament?
Dreaming about providence
And whether mice or men have second tries
Maybe we've been living with our eyes half open
Maybe we're bent and broken
Broken
We were meant to live for so much more
Have we lost ourselves?
Somewhere we live inside
...
We want more than this world's got to offer-Switchfoot, Meant to Live
No, at 45, it is just as applicable as it was to me at 25 when I heard it live during the July 4th weekend of 2004, specifically captured in this exact moment in time: