{"id":325,"date":"2013-01-15T12:20:04","date_gmt":"2013-01-15T17:20:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/?p=325"},"modified":"2013-01-15T12:30:47","modified_gmt":"2013-01-15T17:30:47","slug":"325","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/2013\/01\/15\/325\/","title":{"rendered":"As Years Go By"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I am 43 years old today. As I age, the years seem to pass more rapidly. I also seem to think of myself as getting older<\/em>. When I was in my twenties, every birthday was unfolding adulthood. Today, I am surely past my physical prime, and probably not quite so sharp as I was once.<\/p>\n

A few poems for the day. First, I’ve had on my mind the end of T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”:<\/p>\n

I grow old \u2026 I grow old \u2026
\nI shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.<\/p>\n

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
\nI shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
\nI have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.<\/p>\n

I do not think that they will sing to me.<\/p>\n

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
\nCombing the white hair of the waves blown back
\nWhen the wind blows the water white and black.<\/p>\n

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
\nBy sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
\nTill human voices wake us, and we drown.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Prufrock wanders self-absorbed in the sense of his own mediocrity. This is not a healthy attitude, of course, but not uncommon either.<\/p>\n

Next, time’s passing has made me think of Yeats and “The Wild Swans at Coole”:<\/p>\n

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
\nThe woodland paths are dry,
\nUnder the October twilight the water
\nMirrors a still sky;
\nUpon the brimming water among the stones
\nAre nine and fifty swans.<\/p>\n

The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me
\nSince I first made my count;
\nI saw, before I had well finished,
\nAll suddenly mount
\nAnd scatter wheeling in great broken rings
\nUpon their clamorous wings.<\/p>\n

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
\nAnd now my heart is sore.
\nAll\u2019s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
\nThe first time on this shore,
\nThe bell-beat of their wings above my head,
\nTrod with a lighter tread.<\/p>\n

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
\nThey paddle in the cold,
\nCompanionable streams or climb the air;
\nTheir hearts have not grown old;
\nPassion or conquest, wander where they will,
\nAttend upon them still.<\/p>\n

But now they drift on the still water
\nMysterious, beautiful;
\nAmong what rushes will they build,
\nBy what lake\u2019s edge or pool
\nDelight men\u2019s eyes, when I awake some day
\nTo find they have flown away?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I think my trod is indeed heavier than it was, not from sadness or burden but just from accumulated life. My heart is not yet old, but I can see the end to this time of luxury. Soon enough, I will have real worries about my physical health. I’ll lose friends and family. Places I have known will change forever.<\/p>\n

Finally, I try to take resilience from a favorite, Tennyson’s “Ulysses”:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Come, my friends,
\n‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
\nPush off, and sitting well in order smite
\nThe sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
\nTo sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
\nOf all the western stars, until I die.
\nIt may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
\nIt may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
\nAnd see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
\nTho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
\nWe are not now that strength which in old days
\nMoved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
\nOne equal temper of heroic hearts,
\nMade weak by time and fate, but strong in will
\nTo strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I will strive, in the way of Spinal Tap’s Viv Savage, to have a good time all the time. And no, this is not a declaration of hedonism.\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I am 43 years old today.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":29,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[17],"tags":[12],"class_list":["post-325","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-home-life","tag-personal"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/325","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/29"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=325"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/325\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=325"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=325"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/skepticink.com\/atheistintermarried\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=325"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}