Personal history is repeating itself.
Sometime late in 1995 I went to lunch with a good friend who was 15 years older than me. I had recently joined one of the original online horse racing partnerships and now I was racehorse owner. I told her, "I achieved the ultimate dream of my life at the age of thirty-four. Now what? There isn't anything that can top this. I feel I may as well get hit by a semi truck."
I surely remember the above only because of my friend's reaction. She got very upset and insisted, "Bite your tongue. NOW. Bite it. Bite it."
Of course, life went on and, in fact, got only better and better and better. I probably had my midlife crisis a bit early, because I had no dreams beyond that initial ultimate dream of owning racehorses. So, my focus on "new" things came and went, though exploring spirituality has been an ongoing endeavor of continual fine-tuning. Some kind of writing has always been in the background and sometimes in the foreground.
Now, I can feel a bit of the sensation that existed in 1995. Winning the Kentucky Derby wasn't a dream come true or anything like that. That wasn't where my mind was headed when I started buying shares of racehorses in the summer of 2019. But now that it's happened, it's like, "What's next? How can this be topped?"
If I do get hit by a semi, nobody should pity me. In fact, the worst tribute of my life -- regardless of how my death comes about -- would be to think of me as a "poor thing". I have lived the most fantastic life imaginable. And I appreciate it very much.
Still, there is the potential of a couple of more decades in this body. Between still riding the rocket of ecstasy of this recent victory, and work being at its slowest point of the year, there's a lot of mental mulling going on.
I'm keeping an eye out for the next open door.
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