MUDDY WRITERS BINGO CHALLENGE
Perhaps it Doesn’t Matter that I Still Don’t Know the Meaning of Life
Or how much more of it I have left to live
Perhaps it doesn’t matter that I’m getting older. My fears and worries to the contrary.
What if I just let all that baggage about my age go with a heaping dose of izitme? Letting all that heavy shlepping and kvetching evaporate into the mists because it serves me not?
Perhaps I don’t need the sensation of a ticking time bomb to remind me life slips away faster and faster. One of my favorite flendipitus Medium writers has an app on his phone that reminds him he’s going to die five times a day. Five times a day! And he, dear friends, is only 35. And just left Vancouver to return to Europe.
He’d been living in France and Italy, along la mer méditerranée before COVID. Whereupon he returned to his adopted city of Vancouver, BC. Now he’s headed back to France. Do you need that kind of reminder in that kind of place? And five times a day?
My Kingdom for a Mantra
Perhaps I can make a mantra for myself that wakes me up to what I’m all about without reminding me how little time I may have left. Which is speculation anyway I can’t really know.
What would I have that mantra be? What’s the opposite of so much life, so little time? Well, not the literal opposite, but what’s a more upbeat way to wake me up to the excitement of the magical and the mysterious of which I am enthralled and curious?
Maybe something along the lines of more magic, less tragic.
When I was twelve, I read Seventeen Magazine. I have vivid memories of my favorite stories and ads.
One of them was for a cologne named Charlie — a woman’s cologne. The tagline read — -just left someplace great, going someplace better. It conveyed an alluring sense of mystery and adventure.
They knew what they were doing in that copy room. To a point. I never bought the perfume, but then I didn’t buy any perfume. Still don’t.
Maybe that’s what’s missing
A fragrance to wake me up to the vitality of my life.
A fragrance to remind me not to turn into a bignorant chinbecile, but to stay true to my authentic selfie-ness. And what might that be? Violet? Patchouli? Diesel? Pumpkin spice?
Whatever It ends up being, a little dab on my wrist would remind me to make every moment count. And counteract any fartisan tendencies starting to rear their smelly presences from the inner recesses of my digestive tracts. They need to take a recess. A permanent recess.
But the fragrance and the words evade me at the moment.
I can invite them in, but how long would that take? I have a fuzzling feeling it would not be easy or quick. Mantas can be fickle, lerping around just out of reach, as they try to decide if they’re on my side or not.
I don’t have all day, you know. The seconds tick by, turning into minutes, turning into hours, turning into —
Perhaps it doesn’t matter if I have a scent or a mantra after all.
Perhaps all that matters is I’m alive and still kicking
Living my life one day at a time, treasuring it moment by moment with as much mindfulness as I can muster, which goes up and down, but that’s okay. Or at least I want it to be okay.
Perhaps that doesn’t matter either.
Perhaps nothing matters. It’s all a matter of personal preference. And what’s mine to do is enjoy myself to the best of my ability for as long as I can.
That sounds nice. Does it change anything?
Not sure. But it reminds me to not hide the goodies away for a rainy day. Especially in a schmangie draught. Get them out. Enjoy them now. Live in and for the moment.
So what if life pulls the rug out from under me and I fall on my arse? Get back on my Donkey, drink my Oat Tea and ride!
If my life were a musical what would be the theme song? What’s my Impossible Dream? Fill in the blank: I am I, Ms. Conundrum, Woman of Acchobumbum. Destiny calls and I go…
MuddyUm BINGO Glossary:
Izitme: noun, overly-aggressive humility
Flendipitus: pronoun, it’s something you want to be. The quality of being on the verge of greatness, or doom.
Bignorant: adverb, When you’re ill-informed about a large issue.
Chinbecile: noun, An idiot who wears a face mask too low
Fartisan: noun, A person who’s highly skilled at passing gas.
Fuzzling: adjective, Funny+puzzling
Lerp: verb, To hang back on the periphery, but in a vaguely threatening manner. Noun, a person prone to lerping
Schmangie: adjective, yucky, cheap, dirty, not up to your standards
Acchobumbum: pronoun expletive, What you say when someone pulls away the chair you are about to sit on and you hit the ground!
These nine words, hopefully qualify me for MuddyUm’s Bingo Game, as well as the MuddyUm Writers’ Challenge contest in the LIFE category — all of which is eloquently explained here by our Captain Creative, Susan Brearley:
Marilyn Flower writes political humor and satire to delight socially and spiritually conscious folks. She’s the author of Creative Blogging: Ninja Writers Guide to Character Development and Bucket Listers, Get Your Brave On: How to Do the Thing You’re ‘Too Old’ & ‘Too Scared’ to Do. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her resolve during these crazy times. Stay in touch!