Carpe that Diem ©2017 R.D. Girvan
A little while ago, this happened: Three times in one day, I approached my computer to research… what? When I sat down, my mind was as empty as the search field. I had no idea what I had been about to Google.
Sometimes, memories scatter before me like tadpoles in the shallows, blurry black shapes highlighted against a ridged sandy shore. This time, though, there were not even shadows darting away. Nothing. My inner eye showed only an image of blank sand under a foaming wash.
All my life, I have enjoyed my intelligence, my mind. I love puzzles, puns, cool words and finding the perfect way to turn a phrase. Making a new realization, mastering a subject, taking a mental leap and landing upon firm logic – these things delight and fascinate me.
I have always envisioned my mind as a magnifying device – a telescope or a microscope – and will mentally “dial in” my focus when I am working hard on something. And that day, my mental telescope had lost its bearings and was gawking at a black hole. My microscope, dialed in all the way, was straining hard, illuminating a blank slide.
That experience made me decide: today. I do things I want to do today.
While I still can, right? Write.