WANDERING

Sometimes I feel as if I'm wandering, not sure where I'm going or what I'm looking or waiting for.

I seem to be in a wandering age, a phrase of my life when not sure what it is that I want.

Things? No.

Applause, fame, money? No.

The words ring faint bells that had to do with my younger self, but don't fit with me, nowadays.

I haven't thought about that sort of thing for a long time. In the past, when I was a dancer, I went to the theater to see other performers, took dance classes, keeping in tip-top shape, physically, athletically as well as socially. I wore hi- fashion outfits, and makeup -- doing all the female stuff that has been a part of my life all my life. And continued doing it, when I changed into a writer, and no longer danced professionally.

Till lately, till very recently, when I seem to have entered this wandering age.

I watch me. I look down on me and my life -- my home, family, possessions, shortcomings, strong points, and the past ... old worries, ailments, mistakes, even a few earthshaking decisions I made that I wonder about now. And friends, advisers, associates, and employees.

It's odd, not like me, that I'm not spending time thinking ahead about tomorrow and tomorrow.

I'm just not in the mood to think about what's next.

Some of this has to do with Facebook -- exchanging messages with current friends. I've been noticing old familiar names of friends whom I don't hear from anymore. Fragments of who they seemed to be are sort of echoing. I actually miss them as if they were in my real life.

What's odd about these old friends who were never people I'd recognize if I bumped into them on the street -- they're strangers -- I don't know them, but they're on my mind. I'm not haunted by them, but, nevertheless, I want to stay hello, and find out how they're doing.

No, no! I tell myself. They've moved on. Like ships, they're into other rivers, floating and swimming elsewhere.

Am I moving on? Am I heading toward other rivers where I will be floating, and swimming elsewhere? Or is this aimless wandering mood going to continue and not go away?

I think it's time to grab a log or a leaf that's floating in the water, moving with the tide, Even though I may not know where I'm heading, I'll be heading somewhere.

No, it isn't Christmas, but I love the song.