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Denver Air  By  W. Bruce Watson
 
With an abrupt shudder, our plane descends into the storm that has been raging below us for some time now. Buffeted and battered, it seems unable to gain its footing and begins careening left, right, up, down, and down.

We are suddenly in the clear space between two layers of clouds and mists, and all around becoming dark and darker, the wings recoiling and vibrating off pockets of icy turbulence. Breaking through the lower layer of mist, we bank and turn and turn making the green valleys seem tilted upward.

Inside it is calm while outside the engines whine and strain somehow keeping us afloat. For some inexplicable reason, an old, old man begins to play a mandolin,Oi Marie. The tune is true and like us jiggles about in the air, drifting this way and that, but inside with us, ensconced in aluminum madness. And all is mingled in my mind—wind, earth and song. I acquiesce to the moment. It is now once again.
 
 
 
The truth is, after much furrowing of brow, I can't think of anything to say by way of preface to my blog. Along the way I wondered what it's purpose might be and maybe I should say a few words about that and would, except that I don't know what its purpose is, or could be, or should be. I only know that my clock is winding down and I'm so desperate to have my mind known that I could just spit! Maybe my blog could be about that. But how depressing and pretentious that could be! But hold on a second, maybe not—my therapist commented the other day how in late adulthood (AKA elder years), one is forced to deal with the sense of loss, all the time, it's always there, and it's painful, it takes great faith to live on even though one knows it's going to end and that whatever they accomplish, if anything, is not going to matter all that much. How does one find meaning or a sense of fulfillment in life knowing that it’s coming to an end? Psychologists have not written much about this if anything. It's sort of an unexamined part of adult life. It takes a lot of self-discipline to function in spite of this sense of loss—it's so easy to give up on the constant struggle, on life. A lot of people do—drinking, TV, drugs, electrosex, So, if you'll bear with me, let us examine this unexamined part of adult life.
 
 
 
 
Copyright © 2011 W. Bruce Watson, Inc. All rights reserved.  
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