A perpetual holiday is a good working definition of hell. - George Bernard Shaw

I know, it seems counterintuitive. But when you are used to responding to life, to the everyday crises, to the demands from bosses, clients, traffic, kids, whatever, the sudden void of an enforced perpetual holiday is quite amazing. Not only do you have to motivate yourself to move every day, you also have to find a reason for getting up in the morning, for doing the basic things like showering, eating, speaking to others.

It's all okay for a while, but when you find yourself longing for a pussycat to mew for food, you just know hell has intruded into your life.

We all want meaning in our lives. We want to think that what we do matters, that we have a reason for being here. But when you are suddenly disabled, what is your reason? What are you doing, save using up resources? Oh, I know the voices that will rumble in from the edges - "of course you are important - your kids need you!" or "Of course you have value, you have so much you have already done - you can just relax now..."

I imagine this is why the retired are so busy - to quell that little voice within themselves that they don't really matter anymore, that they could be spit off the globe like a watermelon seed and although people would grieve, the world would not be perceptibly worse for their absence. This is, I think, what Shaw was referring to in the quote above...

In the quiet of a less busy world, you have to face yourself more in the mirror. Instead of a flight by on the way to activity, you have time to look deep deep into your eyes and see the balance of your life - the good, the bad, the places where you have missed the chance to act, the places where you've acted where you shouldn't have, the people you've helped, the people you've hurt. It's not always comfortable. It can be hellish...it can freeze you into immobility, or propel you into frantic distractions.

And then you realize that you still have many many years left on the planet, and you need to make them worthy of the gifts you've received.

Just surviving is not enough.

At least, not for me.

Still searching...

Self-activating

"I'm trapped in a self-activating engine that evolves and seeks decay." Sabri Hakim
Well, aren't we all, really?
I'm plotting my evolution over the next while after I move to the big city, where opportunities abound for physical exercise, arts, pottery, jewelry making, mind expansion...while recognizing the way my body is seeking decay.
Can I sign up for cross-country skiing lessons now, in the summer, not knowing how I will be in January, if I will be able to walk, let alone ski in January?
Today, walking home, my right foot tripped me several times on the uneven pavement. One time I nearly tipped forward into a fall, even with my cane. How fast the decay? I don't know.
Can I sign up for hand building pottery, or will my hands be too weak to press the clay into shape? Will they spasm with pain after each session, or will it strengthen them? I don't have any idea.
Can I not sign up for these things and concede defeat? I don't think so. I hate being defeated.

I think, as always, I'll plunge forward, grabbing life with both hands, pulling on it hard and hoping I can hang on.
I'll sign up and activate myself, lest I perish in an explosion of boredom and self-pity.
But I'll know that I may not be able to hang on, for all that I want to. Sometimes, despite myself, the grip fails, and things drop to the floor.
It's not defeat, really. It's just winning the alternative. Right?