When I was young, I gazed out at an infinite horizon filled with unlimited possibilities; goals were a dime a dozen and inspiration as easy to maintain as an erection.
Older now, I’ve noticed the horizon has shrunk considerably. (Probably because I’m living in a crowded city and look out on another apartment block and not the Pacific Ocean I looked out onto as a boy.)
Things slowed down a bit along the way; it became more difficult to find a purpose worthy of my time and talent. It seemed the world was no longer hungry for that which I had to offer. After all, who, in their right mind, was looking for a middle-aged show boy in the advanced stages of male balding pattern?
At forty, I found solace in writing, photographing, painting, and innumerable other enterprises that inspired my soul but didn’t pay the rent. I continued to dance: insignificant parts as far away from my adolescent dreams of becoming the next Nureyev as Quinten Crisp to Hulk Hogen.
Yet, I still needed to pay the rent.
Then came the big yoga boom. A career tailor-cut for a dancer and philosopher. I was on fire. Inspiration had me feeling invincible again. Alas, I quickly discovered present-day yoga did not share my dream of finding peace of mind through the medium of the body. People were more concerned with developing their abs than their minds. Women attend in search of new anti-aging program, men to check out carnal sights in yoga tights. 5,000 years of spiritual history reduced to a sex app on a sticky mat.
Okay. I admit: it’s not that bad. There are those few yogis who have taken their heads out of their asses and aspire to higher goals. These are the rare few who have kept me inspired enough to continue all these years.
But the sad truth had dawned: inspiration, along with my libido was getting more and more difficult to sustain.
Inspiration. The force that keeps us from entering the lusterless world of the aging. With its help, we retain the vivid colors that colors the world of youth.
Inspiration is more nourishing to the soul than Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and just as satisfying. And, like Peanut Butter Cups, as you get older, just about as difficult to find, (especially if you’re living in Germany).
Inspiration is life-sustaining. As necessary as the right food, fresh air, or a good TV series.
Without it, life is as bland as a black and white film, filled with anxiety, and hopelessness.
SO, how to get and retain it? It’s what this blog is about. My journey into the zone of the aged with the hope of coming back with a few hints designed to keep a twinkle in your eye, spring in your step, and an itch between your legs.