It’s true. At least for me. Not much impresses me anymore.
I watched this beautiful video about a family homesteading in Ecuador today. Reminded of me, the older brother and my two young sisters - at play in the universe of life, totally overwhelmed by everything, the caterpillars, horse spit, how electricity went through the fence, that little seeds grew, how a small axe could slice through a gnarly piece of firewood.
These cows passed by today outside my front door. So beautiful but nah, didn’t impress me much. I curled up deeper into my hammock.
Not anymore, this feeling of being impressed by things.
I guess everything has its time and place.
Of course, there are some moments when the prison bars don’t work and things open up epiphany style. But these are now few and far between.
It’s not easy to remain a child, as Picasso so well quipped. Damn near impossible not to wallow in the pessimism of old age and see everything repeating itself endlessly.
It is what it is. Fight the pessimism I will. That’s my only message today - to sing in your chains.
I’m Not Impressed
Nothing much
impresses me
these days.
100,000 angels
dancing on the head
of a pin.
Nah.
Solving world hunger.
Ho-hum.
Drinking a beer while
standing on your head.
Kid’s stuff.
The heavyweight champ whooped.
So what?
After a certain age
you lose the ability
to be impressed
by anything,
that kid
that wonder-eyed kid
in the candy store
is gone,
replaced by
the heavy, tired eyes
of one who has about
seen it all
see enough.
The only thing
that might impress me
now -
being impressed.
So here I sit
and wait
through these most
unimpressive days,
hope against hope
I might awake from
this nightmare
and once again
be able to
drop my jaw.