Danny Brown

podcaster - author - creator

thoughts

Time Flies When You’re Not Blogging

So I was looking over my last few posts (as I’d realized I haven’t blogged in a while), and I was surprised to find that in the last three months, I’d only blogged four times.

Just once a month, if you ignore the first of these four posts which was an update post, versus a topical one.

At first, I won’t lie – I kinda panicked. Given (up until the last year, anyhoo) I’d been a prolific blogger, often publishing multiple times a week, to drop to almost one a month seemed alien.

It’s not that it was deliberate, either. I had ideas in my head, words I wanted to type, but things just got in the way.

Life. Family. New job. Beer. And other trivialities I won’t bore you with.

But more than a month since I last published something? Both scary (for want of a better word), and a little sad.

For the longest time, blogging has been such an integral part of my routine that to realize I hadn’t blogged for so long was almost like a wake-up call.

We Continue to Breathe

I used to think that, for a blogger, if you weren’t publishing on a regular basis, you essentially ceased to exist. There was no reason for you to be, if you had no reason to be seen.

Maybe, in a deep down way, I still believe that, but I don’t think I do. Otherwise, would I leave my words dormant for so long? Who knows.

What I do know is, no matter how long you take a break for, the world goes on. We go on. We live. Others live.

We continue to breathe.

In a way, it’s a little sobering, knowing that – as “important” you think the words are that you’re typing – you’re just another part of someone’s day that can be taken or left.

Not that that’s a bad thing. Far from it. Indeed, it can act as a nice reminder that, as connective as digital is, the analogue is just as connective, and right in front of your eyes.

Reminders Are Good for the Soul

Still, for someone who’s blogged consistently for the last 10 years (more, if you include infrequent musings on blogs that are long gone), this hiatus has been both welcomed and unwelcome.

Welcome, inasmuch that it showed me that I still have a love for this medium, and that I missed it hellishly while stepping back (albeit not on purpose).

Unwelcome, in that I let inactivity become a better bedfellow than pushing ahead with the thoughts I had in my head at a time I could have typed and hit publish, yet didn’t.

Plus ca change.

My grandad, who I’ve spoken about on here many times, once told me that our souls are all we have. Our bodies disintegrate, our faculties diminish, and our memories will one day just become dust.

Our souls, though? Our souls are endless, and it’s up to us how we use that longevity. Being reminded of that helps us realize that if we have a message we want to share, we need to share it before we lose the opportunity forever.

I don’t know what message I have to share. Hell, I might not have one at all.

But I do know I’ve missed this platform, and hearing your thoughts in the comments. Perhaps I’ve missed that latter the most of all.

Anyhoo… I ramble. I do that when I have a bunch of things to say, but not the time to say them. At least, not yet.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s nice to be back. I missed you guys. Let’s make the next chapters the best ones.

On Hot Tubs and Getting Older

Next year, I’ll be 50. What the f…?

I remember being a young man in my early 20’s, and thinking 30 was old. My 20’s and 30’s were probably my peak, at least physically.

To even consider being 50 was… no, it wasn’t even considered. It just wasn’t an age to understand.

Now, a couple of decades later, and I’m thinking – how did this creep up?

Was I just not paying attention? Not accepting it was coming? Not growing up, and still thinking of my peak years? Although one look in the mirror can easily confirm these are behind me…

So what does that have to do with hot tubs?

Maintenance, Maintenance, Maintenance…

This summer, my wife and I agreed to a major project for our back yard.

Our deck was falling apart, and our yard itself was on two levels essentially, leading to a flat back yard to the side of our house and a sloped one just beyond our deck.

This meant a few things: our kids couldn’t really play anywhere except the side of our house, it was a major pain in the ass for me to mow, and it made our backyard look smaller due to the slope.

So, we hired a landscaper to redo the deck and yard, as well as install a hot tub (something my wife had always wanted in a back yard of our own).

After a 6-8 week period, from planning to visualization and then implementation, it was done.

Our old, decrepit deck had been replaced by a beast of a two-tier deck, that allowed extra play area for our kids as well as a built-in hot tub.

Job done, right? Eh, maybe not.

Don’t get me wrong – I love our new deck, the extra space, the entertaining area, and the hot tub. It’s just… well, I guess the hot tub reminds me of my impending aging.

The hot tub is hard work. Enjoyable hard work, but hard work none the less.

I have to keep the chemicals at a certain level; I have to keep the water level just right; and, once a quarter, I need to empty the old water, clean, and add new.

That’s not even taking into account the filters and how I need to clean and change them on certain dates.

In a way, it kinda sounds like me getting older.

Make sure you have any (meds) chemicals you need; look after your bladder and extra need to pee (water level); and ensure your younger self isn’t impacting your older self (don’t think the hot tub will look after itself in the years to come).

I’m hot tub man! 🙂

Forget the Work, Enjoy the Results

And, to a degree, being “hot tub man” sucks. I’m at the age now where I want an easy life. Or, at least, an easier life.

I don’t want regular responsibilities – if the hot tub water smells, I want it to be because a skunk pissed in it, as opposed to me forgetting to check the levels.

But… then I remember the feeling of being in the tub,

Calm. Relaxation. Peace. Warmth. Love. Safety.

And then I think, for all the work needed, maybe it’s not a bad thing. Maybe the work is needed to make the pleasure a result of the [perceived] pain.

Maybe the work is what makes it worthwhile. Much like getting older,

Maybe all the stuff I miss now – flat belly, being fit, being “hot” – was just my training ground to finding true happiness.

True love. True comfort, calm, relaxation, and all that comes with that.

Who knows? I’m just thinking aloud on a Saturday night. Not the greatest time to try and make a point, as everyone gets ready to have their happy time, at least for them.

But that’s okay.

Because I’m not thinking aloud for them. I’m just riffing for us – the older, the soon-to-be-old, and the ones that remember what it was to be young.

Much like a hot tub, it’s hard work. But the results are worth it.