The Project

I don’t know when the project started. Maybe it didn’t have a formal start. I just realized at some point that I was working on it. I think a lot of us are working on it and don’t even know.

What happens?

You get older, not old, but older. You get tired of buying stuff and eating out all the time. Maybe you have kids. Maybe you have a health scare. I don’t know, but at some point you turn a corner, and your sense of what you’re doing with your life changes.

This is the project.

The project is mental, physical and spiritual possibly too. It’s realizing your life really, actually does need some kind of meaning, and that the time to figure out what that is, is running short.

I realized I needed to get my shit straight, for my kids, for my wife, for myself. I wanted to stop wasting time. I got into therapy. I went to AA. I took some meds. I talked more about all the ways I’d been mistaken.

I started working out.

I went back to trying to decide what I thought about life, how to do it, what the point was, what the endless procession of generations might produce, what my part was. I started wanting to be more of a positive than a negative.

I found myself surrounded by people asking themselves the same questions and trying out answers. Most of them had been through some shit. They had been depressed or were prone to it, but had been around long enough to know they didn’t have to settle for that.

I’m not sure what the project leads to. I guess I’m finding out. Probably there’s not one answer, but it swirls somewhere around authenticity, satisfaction and an easy ability to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Every word I’ve written here is part of the project, and all the words I haven’t written yet.