A brief bit of sadness last night. For some reason I though the olympics were over this weekend. A quick serach on the web indicated that there is another week to go. Not that I'm watching them religiously (not enough time), but rather that for better or for worse, my internal psychological clock uses them as time markers in my life. I vividly remember watching the '72 games as a young kid, and then '76. '80, not so much - part of the lost years. But then back in '84. But it was the '72 and '76 games that stick in my head, partly because I was in the heavy kid sports years, and also starting to "come of age."
So now even though I'm not sitting down and watching every minute possible, the coming and going of the olympics tells me that time is passing. I used to have a similar response to the end of the school year, first as a student, then as a teacher. Since leaving that world, I've lost that marker, and the last 8 years or so really seem like a blur. Maybe that's what happens when you reach and pass 40. Or maybe it is just the lack of markers to remind me that the world is still spinning. And if there is something I want to do, I'd better do it now rather than leave it for tomorrow.
Maybe I need to go back to China. Or find something here. More will be revealed...
