I live quietly, my actions less active than my younger self.

Or are they?

This week, I limit my social media interaction, my thoughts distant from other humans, a part of this world yet alone.

Calm, happy enough to know people around me are living lives without knowing me.

Little need for attention, entertaining those with whom I work a new shift at night, sleeping during the daytime, interrupted by telephone calls from unknown humans.

I planned art projects to occupy myself when I felt the need for attention but, in this sated mood, sleeping occupies me more.

Sometimes, fear of dying drives me to complete a project.

Somwtimes, curiosity about my Maker capabilities does.

Only three people i know actually call me to go eat with them on a whim — my wife, my sister and David.

Does that constitute my circle of real friends? (All other friends are hobby-connected.)

I know it does.

It is life at age 55, very common.

Sometimes, i wish otherwise, virtually crying out in the dark with social media posts, short stories and poems.

I was raised to believe life was one of a few choices: man-vs-man, man-vs-god/nature, man-vs-self. I never fully believed in the contrast of “man-vs-X”. We simply react as sets of states of energy in motion.

My motion today is simply sleeping, waking to play with a cat, eating, and working.

The simple life.

One of my lifelong dreams fulfilled.

Perfectly acceptable.

Simple.

Enough.