The Curse of Clarity

​The brain works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? I woke up a few days ago with a rush of creativity and grabbed my laptop. Words poured out of me like sap from a maple tree on a warm spring day.

I wondered… where does my literary voice hide when my brain sleeps? Is it smothered by arthritic discomfort or muffled by work stress? Age just changes everything.

I watched a video last week that identified six tasks you must be able to do after the age of 65 to increase your chances of living to 100. I had to click.

When I hit task number four with the confidence of a teenager, I felt giddily spry and realized, “Why the bloody hell do I want to live to 100?” Life in our later years is just too hard.

Accepting the inevitability of aging isn’t the hard part. For me, it is the loss of innocence – being able to see through the cluster of nonsense with the simplicity of youth. How many times did you forge ahead as a kid without worrying about regret or fearing failure? The bliss of innocence was absolute.

As a full-fledged adult, the boundaries are no longer blurred. I see the beginning, the end, and all the garbage in between with unspeakable clarity. We no longer have the freedom to fly without a parachute, or at the very least, a concern for the health of our wings. Clarity is a curse.

The worst part? The internet. God forbid we proceed with anything without a deep dive into the dark web to investigate every blush of an option before deciding what the hell to do.

We question our ability to subvert common sense with the nonsensical ramblings of a most likely demented, opinionated, self-serving couch potato in search of click-worthy attention.

Okay, so maybe that’s a stretch, but I am sure you catch my drift. AI and electronics have squelched the human capacity for independent thinking, rational deduction, and unmitigated intellectual growth.

Even the program I use to assist with proofreading for composition accuracy provides “suggestions” to “improve the clarity” of my writing. Uh, no, thank you. I like to ramble. I write how I talk, and in my humble opinion, I ramble with a distinctive voice. And I don’t need a couch potato to redirect my intent or complicate my message.

Now, I am not entirely misguided. There is some value in research. Arming yourself with knowledge isn’t bad as long as you validate that knowledge. But aging is aging. Accepting it with class and dignity is the journey.

​Dignity I can muster. Not sure about the class… Ah, but that is fodder for yet another rant.
​

Share your thoughts!  Click the word Comments below and tell me what you think!
​