The word for reflection today is: Intuition.
Intuition the gift. 'It's what's in store.' Unbidden. -- Epistemology in its most singular and mysterious.
So sugary is it 2 hear (that @ 1 time) you were the best-ever, the top, the best -- a peak in a chosen field. But: all dreams and lifeskills inevitably erode. Recede with age and experience. Leave us most in need: to see and accept a nagging intuition, awful, deep.
That would be: that the time has come. The clock has struck 11, perhaps 12. The awful call 2 step away has been inexorably delivered: life, & profession moves on, far beyond the temptations 2 anxiously, desperately, cling.
And how? With the passing margins of the pages, and in the summary notes, a dimming yesteryear is a story that has been written, has already drifted away, out pnto the o[en and rolling seas forever. (And here I take a moment 2 ponder the once-stellar athleticism of one man of steel-will named Peter Rose, or the iron-jawed Johnny Bench, the once magical Willie Mays, and like Brett Favre, and of course Joe Willie. Each greeted the hard lesson of intution, and time passing, but only dimly, until it was too late, lacking completely in the simple grace of acceptance).
Intuition. An understated and inexplicable high. One struggles 2 explain it. But: sometimes, you know?, you just know ---->