Sometimes I go back through old journals (and hand-written ones from long below those), and I think, damn, i'm getting more and more shallow as i get older. It makes me sad. I used to be so profoundly moved by music, nature, and the pursuit of perfection in various other human endeavors, but these days it takes a lot to make me feel something. Part of it is that i don't have someone else to help me build up strong emotions, and perhaps another reason is that i have had so many wonderful experiences immersed in the beauty of nature that i am building up a tolerance. and while it's still amazing to sit on the front of a fast-moving zodiac at dusk, gliding out over glassy water toward the faint silhouette of a lonely atoll dwarfed by a crimson sky, more and more i am disappointed by things that would have floored me in wonder just two years ago.
and yet another reason (perhaps) is that my enjoyment of music increases as I pursue it, and i clearly have not been pursuing it. throw in atrophy of my left brain, and i'm on the verge of a little crisis.
yeah, yeah. i'm fortunate and all that crap. i'm not saying that i'm not appreciative. at least things seem to be going well otherwise. :)