Conversations too late
My favorite time of day: Night. So restful to the eyes, so intuitive to the soul. The peace I feel in the darkness I can’t explain. Free of eye pain. Free of eye strain, typing in the dark with just a touch of the fingers. So then, why do you have to throw a phrase at me out of nowhere?
“It’s too late?”
That’s the one. There I was, relaxing in the dark, Dingo Mutt on one side, Fat White Dog on the other and those words poke at my mind. They just popped up and wouldn’t leave the party long after the host wanted to pass out on the bed.
The sentence is clear enough.
Too late for what? A game of scrabble? Getting my books published? Saying goodbye? Apologizing? “It’s too late” is the beginning of a phrase and, without the descriptions of what it’s too late for, it’s absolutely meaningless.
You forgot what you were thinking about just before the phrase hit your mind.
Then refresh my memory.
It’s too late to think about what if’s. You can’t save everyone. You have to know that you did your best, you carried on, you fought the good fight, and at the end of that road was the inevitable. You had been warned and you didn’t know enough to listen.
You’re talking about 23 years ago, when a veteran of social services who wasn’t happy about the influx of funding tried to warn us. He said that people would get used to having more just to suffer the pain of having it taken away again for the next cause-du-jour. If it’s too late, what do I do next?
Let it go. Pet your puppies. Write your books. Feed the hunger in your heart by continuing to practice kindness when you talk with your dogs and cats and spend the remainder of your life pursuing peace in Zen moments, Meditation, Relaxation. Your journey is almost at an end.
So then, I’m the crotchety and unloveable old veteran of funding wars who speaks the truth but no one is ready to listen?
And no matter what you say, what you do, or how hard you shout it out, they won’t listen until they’re ready.
That actually makes sense. I remember this guy on a committee. Everyone hated it when he walked through the door. He had something nasty to say about everything that was voted on, things like “that’s been done before and we changed it to the way it is now because the other way didn’t work.” He was a cistern of historical information! He kept us from making the same mistakes over and over again. He was the one who said what had to be said and the committee was much better off with him than without him.
You have spoken the words. You have done what you were supposed to do. In a few months you will be entering another realm of thought entirely, where you will find inside you that which had been set aside. That is the treasure on the shelf you’ll dust off. That is your destiny.
Though I’m not sure why, I feel better already. Hope returns. Love is filling my body and my mind. My heart overflows.
It’s too late to turn back now.
That was a very old song. “something inside just died and I can’t hide it and I can’t fake it” or something like that. Now I’m confused again.
Keep looking forward and following the path to a new life. You’ll find the right part of the song that fits.
After this typed itself out, I found the song. Here are the words that jumped out at me:
“There’ll be good times again for me and you,
but we just can’t stay together; don’t you feel it, too?
Still I’m glad for what we had and how I once loved you.”
I feel compelled to add that the ad shown before I could listen to this 1971 song was for an old-people scooter. 🙂