How to be brave in the new world

Navigating life and time as quickly and skillfully as I can

Photo by Brandon on Unsplash

I haven’t written on Medium since March 2021 — probably the driest dry spell yet. I haven’t written at all in fact since then, except for some pidgin print in my journal — entries which more often than not are simply lists, presumably to jog my memory in case I want to write about them at some future time.

Time. Time seems to be slipping through my fingers these days.

In the dining room at Terrapin on the Bodega Bay coast last night, I looked around the room and, aside from one family, I was the youngest in the room. But that was nothing to crow about — it was an aged crew, that is certain. I skewed young in the group, but only because most of the diners were geriatric.

Why is that important? Why do I choose to say it? I think I used it as a kind of hand-hold. You see, I can’t quite tell what’s happening these days. Post-menopausal, I seem to be aging at a shocking pace. That in itself is not important, even if it is heart-breaking. It’s more the issues that arise because of it that are troubling me.

You see, I can’t quite keep track of where I should be with my kids, my grown kids — my daughter, in particular, who just turned 20. Nina is back from UCLA where she is a film major. She is a…