Now I’m a reader of the night sky
And a singer of inordinate tunes
That’s how I float across time, living way past my prime
Like a long lost baby’s balloon
So I hang on to the string, work that whole gravity thing
But when my space ship goes pop, back to the earth I will drop
Into the sea, or the limbs of a tree
Or the wings of my love
And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
Maybe invent me a story or two
I’ve got coastal confessions to make
How ’bout you, how ’bout you?
They say that time is like a river
And stories are the key to the past
But now I’m stuck in-between here at my typing machine
Trying to come up with some words that will last
It’s so easy to see that we live history
And if I just find the beat, I know I’ll land on my feet
I always do, hadn’t got a clue
Does it come from above?
— Jimmy Buffett, Coastal Confessions

On those occasions where I debate the merit of Jimmy Buffett to the catalog of great lyricists, I generally point to Coastal Confessions or A Pirate Looks at 40 as examples of a writer tapping into magic. As a person trying to tap into magic now and then myself, I appreciate a great poem disguised as song. We’re all trying to find words that will last a beat longer than the average sound bite, aren’t we?

Lately I’m caught up in refining my habits and routines, that I might be more efficient and such. This betrays a desire to do work that matters with the urgency of a quarterback who’s seen that this game is all about clock management. We can be the most brilliant player on the field and it won’t matter a lick if we run out of time before we complete the drive. The thing is, even when we do everything perfectly, sometimes the kick goes wide right. The universe has its own say in how things play out. Memento mori, Carpe diem. Amor fati.

This blog remains a line of breadcrumbs between where I started and where I am today. The path ahead is only hinted at. Breadcrumbs have a way of being swallowed up in time. I’m not naive enough to believe any of these words will last as they are published. In the end, it’s the ripple, not the splash that lingers. A splash is immediate, the ripple may touch people who were never aware there was a splash at all. The thing is, the world is full of people trying to make a bigger splash than everyone else. That leads to a confused sea state, with ripples coming from all directions. Best to set our own course and invite others along for the ride. I’ve set my own course for the coast of somewhere beautiful.

Speaking of confused sea states, I’ve just lumped a few analogies into one short blog post. What else is new? Some of these themes have repeated over and over again. That’s inevitable with a couple of thousand blog posts, but it’s mostly just me reminding myself to keep going with it. The story is still being written, after all. We can’t control the result but we can manage the clock a bit, and discover that we love the game.