temporarily

 There are times when it all seems so temporary: life that is. When we look back, we look back in stages. When we were little, when we were teenagers, when we were young adults, when this or that, but always when. It's all in the past, the past is a temporary state as well, it is ever changing. The past does change with our remembrance of it, our thoughts changing the memory. All is not as we were led to believe, all was not as we remember it to be. Memories are transient things as they come and go. Some visit more frequently than others and some we would just as soon forget. But all are temporary. With that knowledge comes a sadness. All things must end. We all wish for a permanence, a lasting legacy. It is an intrinsic part of human nature. 

 We all attempt to preserve the past, keep it alive. We call it our roots, and our roots run deep. We seek that connection to the past because we believe that past existed. Well at least that portion of the past we have experienced first hand. Everything before concious memory are just stories. The past is told by our parents, older siblings, aunts and uncles, all those that came before us. The past isn't a first hand experience! We will all attempt to keep our past alive even if we have to fabricate parts of it. The reality is the best we can do is leave fragments behind. That's because it is only fragments that will be remembered. The past is temporary. Perhaps that is why I'm attempting to record my past. The written word does last longer. The past, my past, lives in these stories. I'm only temporary, like everyone else.

 I do wonder however what if I had taken a different path. What if I had stayed in the place of my birth. What if I had just settled down there, never having lived anywhere else. Would I then feel more of a sense of permanence? Now I realize all things change over time. The old hometown don't look the same! It isn't the same place as 1965. But I also realize that most changes go unnoticed by those closest to that change. Do you know what I mean? A road built here, a store closed, a fence or some other physical change to the landscape. They mostly go unnoticed. Oh yes, they're new, for a short time, then they are there. When you see it everyday it becomes a part. But if you return after a long absence each change jumps out at you, the scene has changed. To put it as Shakespeare may have said, the stage has new scenery, the scene is different. We are left unsure of our part. 

 For me the stage has been a constantly changing thing. It has only been stable the last twenty years or so. Everything before that has been temporary. Now I'm not saying that is a bad thing, just that it is a perception I harbor. I do wonder if that perception would be different had I not left the stage I call home. It has been said home is where the heart is and I agree with that. I have taken my home with me everywhere I have been. Home, and all the emotion that word encompasses, isn't really a place, it's a state of mind. I have found myself walking upon the stage unsure of my part in this play, this play we call life. What is expected of me? Has the role been defined, or is it I that defines the role? 

 These are some of the questions I ask myself. It hasn't always been so. When I was younger I was more confident, more assured of my role. I walked upon the stage with a certain swagger. Life has a way of humbling us all. I believe that is by design. You do have to slow down, consider things more carefully. As I am fond of saying, you can't rush quality. And perhaps that is what bothers me. I see the world rushing past now, everyone seems to be in a hurry, no time for quality. It all seems so temporary. There is only one thing that is permanent, and that is death. But I believe that too is just a perception, and there is no permanence in death, just another life. I still wonder though, will I know it? Only time will tell.