11 November 2013

On Not Going With the Flow

The rough, uneven, illogical course of my life has taken me through ups and downs. I have gone in directions that seemed counter-intuitive. Strange or indirect. My path has not been clearly linear. Plans have held little weight in the end. I have gone one direction then another. I have changed my mind and gone in circles. But I have always directed the path. Choices have taken me this way and that. I have faced the unknown, the logic-less, the uncertain. Yet, I have chosen those unsure corners of the future. Each and every one.

Until lately. I find myself seemingly motionless. Or perhaps adrift.The course of my life going onward as it must necessarily do. But with no determination. With so little decisiveness. Rather it seems my days have been filled with little trifles--social engagements, work obligations, appointments and entertainments. Schedules and chores and busy-ness. The consciousness, the purposefulness has faded. Introspection lost amid the "stuff to do". I find myself like a pebble in a river bottom. The days rushing over me like great currents. Waters bury me under the incessant strength of their flow. Carrying me indifferently in whatever direction they may go. And rather than push my way through; rather than swim; rather than flounder, even, in some direction of my own, I find myself being swept away passively, submissively--unresistant--into those uncaring waves of passing time. Going where, if, when the days will send me. Moving of necessity. Living for the sake of living.

Thoughts cross my mind. Where do I want to be? Where do I want to go?What do I need to do? But they reach me as if in a fog. Blurred by the rushing waves that are each day and it's busy obligations. They reach me as if through the film of sleep that clouds the mind. Sleepy, hazy. Nothing urgent. Nothing impending. Only flowing in the ease of the path of least resistance.

The path of least resistance: The job you have. The place you live. The locales you frequent. The schedule you keep. They are here. They require no new decisions. No choices. No disturbances to the great sleep of indifference. But in the unconscious flow of time the lose meaning. They offer so little growth.

I feel myself restless in my sleep. Ready to press through the haze into wakefulness. Prepared to rise out to the flow that pushes me carelessly forward. The strength to break out of this mindless passivity is awakening, resurfacing. It is time to reclaim my course. Set my path.

I am afraid. Making choices means making mistakes. It means taking risks. Getting hurt and even sometimes hurting others. It means doing what is difficult and exhausting and sometimes not entirely enjoyable. Of your own free will.

But I somehow feel.... it ends beautifully.

And at least it is mine.

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