The adjustment now, that I'm firmly entrenched in middle age and my irrelevancy is confirmed, is the decision to understand and find peace. Fighting it proved to be very dangerous indeed, and very nearly put me on the street. So - I adjust. This is not the same as passive acceptance. There are elements that are worth embracing - quieter nights, the secure knowledge that I've been there. There are also uneasy notions to manage, such as the sometimes nagging, sometimes quite right decision to not reproduce. Given the political climate in my country, where it seems the disenfranchised are about to take control and drive us into a laughable, dangerous position, the latter seems to have been the right choice.
The notion of "home" is still fluid. I am not sure if this is home. I am not sure if I ever really had a home. The concept is driven by nostalgia and need for familiarity anyways. It implies acceptance to a degree that even now I would still push back against. I need to be comfortable, but still agitate in my own way. It's a measure of finding new ways to stir up shit.
I'm at least more fit than I've been since school. Testing my athletic mettle instead of my creative jones is a worthy windmill to tilt. However, I am still chipping away at the acquisition of tools needed to create a very modest home recording studio. I'm downloading software as I speak.
I am content but not settling.
