Three things

This year, I got one of those health diagnoses that isn't terminal or anything, but it kind of lets you know what you are most likely to die from. It prompted me to think differently about my life. I see my life in five phases:

• Childhood: 0-18 (autistic kid in a world where that wasn't super familiar, stuff you go to therapy for). 
• Young adulthood: 19-25 (worked in churches, stuff you go to therapy for).
• Prime adulthood: 26-45 (worked as a high school teacher, then principal during COVID, then switched to remote work, stuff you go to therapy for).
• Middle adulthood: 46-75 (I'm one year in, looking forward to the stuff I will go to therapy for).
• Late adulthood: 76-dead. 

As someone in early middle adulthood, I re-evaluated and decided to take some actions on things I had wanted to do. You could call it a midlife crisis. I call it a change for good. 

First, I finally bought a nice car for myself. Our family setup was always that we had a nice family car that Laurie drove to work, and we used for trips and family events. When my twenty-year-old turned sixteen, she bought her own car, and then we helped her trade it in for something nicer when she went to college. But I always had a real crappy car. I'm no martyr; this was my choice. I loved not having to wash it or worry about dents. My last one was a 2005 Honda Civic. Great car, until it wasn't. 

So when it finally died for good, I went and got myself a car I had my eye on for a while, a Hyundai Veloster. If you know, you know. It had 78,000 miles on the car, but the new engine had 7. Great shape, great handle, and one of the best parts is that when I hop in, it immediately starts playing from the playlist on my phone. Which is exclusively every song Twenty One Pilots has ever produced: therapy of the highest order. That car has become my sanctuary and my peace. (Just as described in the song Drum Show). I have a car wash subscription, I have a heightened protective road rage (like my brother sings of), and I park in the furthest spot from the store, but I love it. 

Second, I decided to go all in on getting my fiction published. I have stories in my mind and on my hard drive that I think other people will enjoy. Enjoyment is such a tough thing to find sometimes, and if I can be a creator of someone's joy, then that is pretty cool. The meaning of life is helping other people after all. If there is a Twenty One Pilots fan out there reading The Wrong Clearing, I hope you spot a couple easter eggs for even more enjoyment. 

Third, and this is related to the music, but kinda dark. I decided what song I want played at my funeral. I asked Laurie to at least attempt to have the band play live over my dead body. Ha! The song is called The Line, and they recently released it as a single for a television show. It was written while the writer's grandma was dying. I think it is beautiful, both musically and lyrically. Here is the chorus:

Please don't let them see me.

Sure there's nothing left to try.

I can feel the light shine on my face.

Did I disappoint you?

Will they still let me over?

If I cross the line?

Anyway, you never know when you are going to cross yours. So what do you want to do this season?