I was walking home from work tonight and all night long, I’ve felt a little bit off. I haven’t been able to put my finger on why I felt that way or what was causing it, but nonetheless, it was there. The sidewalks are treacherous because everything’s frozen now so on nights like these, I usually end up walking in the street as opposed to the sidewalk. That is not to say that I would qualify myself as a streetwalker, although I suppose in the most literal sense, I was.
I made the mistake of listening to Five For Fighting on the walk home, although when I think about it now, it wasn’t really as much a mistake as a deliberate choice even though I knew what the outcome would be. By rights, I shouldn’t like Five For Fighting at all. I can barely understand half of what he says and his voice gets to be more than a little bit Kermit the Frog after awhile. I don’t know that I could get through an entire Five For Fighting album and God knows I don’t need to see him live, but I have a handful of his songs on my iPod. Some of the songs featured prominently on Heidi’s soundtrack for Fever Pitch and because of that, I got to know them pretty well.
I shouldn’t have listened to “100 Years” but I did anyway. That’s one of those songs that hits me right under my breastbone every time. I’m a bit of a sucker for a song about the passage of time and how fleeting life really is. And tonight, for whatever reason, it got me to thinking about all the time that has passed and all the time that (hopefully) lies ahead. In the song, he talks about being a different ages “for a moment” and it seems dumb, but when you think about it, it’s seems like all those days gone by are just moments – that’s how fleeting they are.
As I was walking home I was reminded of all those late nights as a young man when I walked the 2 miles from campus to the townhouse where I lived. I thought to myself, “if I haven’t been my 21 year-old self for almost half my life, why are there times that I don’t feel a bit different than I did at that age?” I guess the answer is that guy is still a part of me. He does not get to drive the bus very often – he is not a very good driver – but every now and then, it’s nice to commune with him. He is crippled by anxiety and so fearful of what everyone thinks and so sure that there is nothing likeable about him that he needs someone like me to tell him otherwise.
Feeling this way certainly doesn’t tickle, but it’s important to remember it – how far I’ve come and how much better I manage my own anxious thoughts and feelings than I did even 5 years ago. My therapist is retiring in June and I’ve joked that I’m going to have to quit therapy because I can’t imagine finding someone else that can help me as much as she has.
On nights like these, it’s good to remember that although I can visit this spot and remember what it was like, I can’t live here. So while I’ve been writing this post, I’ve been listening to Vixen. It’s hard to feel anything too negative when you listen to Vixen. After all, they were living on the edge of a broken heart!