“If I were to wish for anything, I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of potential — for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible. Pleasure disappoints; possibility never.” Kierkegaard

OH damn. Damn damn damn.  This is the wish.

I wish I felt like I did during college or grad school, or perhaps even my first job, when I just knew I was marking time until it got good.

And it did, get good that is.  I had some amazing adventures, such adventures, in dark rooms some with things that could be stopped by an EMP and some that….could not.

I met many wondrous folk, some of whom I’m still friends/friendly/facebookian with others who are pleasant memories with sad endings.

I love being a BeanMom and being married to Mr. J—but part of me would love to return for awhile or longer to THAT feeling. Where you know the *very* next thing is the amazing thing. The very next paramour you meet in a dark gothclub corner will show you’re your true love, the very next job interview you have will give you your passionate work, even that next visit to Amoeba will grant you the soundtrack of your life.

And that should you decide to be an astronaut tomorrow or a brain surgeon—well, it’s just a matter of a few classes right?

That Feeling.

Except that being BeanMom and being married to Mr. J is the amazing thing—it’s just the rest of it that isn’t. I’m not a poet any longer, I haven’t written the Great American Novel. Somedays I’m not even sure that what I do makes as much difference as a cat’s pee in the mojave.

So I long for that feeling of possibility. The yearning, nearly sexual, fully thrilled feeling of possibility.

Barring that—I wish the wishes we should all be making now. That the economy recovers.

That Congress quits being more concerned about re-election than they are about our country.
That our boys and girls make it home safely and that the wars end.NOW

That my Bean grows up safe and strong and happy. That she has a future with a happy relationship and a job that she doesn’t hate and a family and friends.

That my husband is happy with his life.

Oh I have some selfish ones too—that I don’t get fat again. That my ankle gets better so I can start working out. That work improves. That

well that things get better. For all of us.

Bean and Bart cuteness

Me cat pant and Haru