Went to the DMV today. Waited in line for a very long time. Got my picture taken. Hair is sticking up funny. Of course! My face looks thinner and less childish than in my last driver's license photo.
I'm twenty five as of yesterday. I don't feel different or more mature. I still feel as if I'm mucking through life in an attempt to make sense of things. I still see myself as a "little one". I know that I am more fortunate than most people. I mean, there is an overarching purpose to my life, and I can sense that. But sometimes, the day to day junk of life clutters my mind. Lately, whenever I watch T.V., inevitably an ad for some prescription medication comes on and I am instantly reminded of the seconds ticking away in which my life is getting shorter. I don't try to dwell too much about my mortality. After all, I am still young, and life is for living, not for fretting. However, when I am forced to focus upon my heart beating away and my lungs breathing, I am aware in that split second of fear that this luxury will not continue forever.
Vanitas. The idea that even in beautiful youth, there is a seed of mortality, of death lurking behind the unfurling petals of spring's first bloom. A reminder to LIVE like you're going to die soon. And in reality, you will. A human life span is the sort of thing comparable to one nano-second from God's perspective.
This is all very dreary and morbid. But if I do not think on these things and write them down, they won't mean as much to me as if they were just floating around in my head, bouncing off the grocery lists and class assignments and myriads of deadlines my mind is attempting to recall.
Right now, the radio is playing "Dream A Little Dream for Me" and the cappuccino machine is foaming milk. A good sound. Life is good.
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