Saturday, September 15, 2012
Giving up because you've faltered? Lame.
To me, quitting should be confined to rehab. We live in a time where giving up is often seen as No Big Deal. It is a big deal, and quitting is a shame — or it should be, at least.
There should be no shame in faltering from the straight-and-true path. We all fall short of the glory — of the Lord, the Universe, the Fates, the gods or whatever. A will of steel can buckle when immersed in the warm waters of the sins of the flesh, the fulfillment of sensual daydreams brought to life.
It might be potato chips and other junk food for breakfast, booze for lunch, hookers for dinner, smack for dessert. Cigarettes as between-meal snacks. You might dabble in one, two, maybe three of the temptations. A little this, a little that. It's life, lived for the thrills. Not a huge deal, and certainly nothing shameful. Don't dream it. Be it.
It is easy to point to temptations and indulgences and use those things as an excuse to stop trying: I can't lose weight; people keep putting all this food in front of me, and I am powerless over cake. I don't have the strength to stop drinking. I'm worthless because I'm still snogging smack. Bullshit. You might still be fat, drunk and strung out on heroin, but you can lose weight, you do have the strength and you're not worthless. If you think otherwise you're letting the Quitter win, and the Quitter's a loser and you don't want to be a loser, now do you? No one wants to be the Third Jockey.
Life has been tough, the past several days. I have resolved to keep a light touch, to not let emotions put unnecessary weight on my life. To let life unfold and frolic in its good times without worrying too much about What's Next.
But I've faltered. I've let it bother me. I've given voice to those worries. It's worn me slick.
Meh. Could have been worse. Caught myself in time before I really let things get out of hand.
I'm not going to stop trying to keep things in proper perspective. As I wrote a few days ago, I feel lighter inside when I'm being light. But neither am I going to ignore life as I know it, Autumn 2012. I refuse to turn my face from the sun and stop wondering about what happens when one reality is shattered and a new one takes its place. As someone says in the indie flick Another Earth, "therein lies the opportunity and the mystery. What else? What new? What now?"
I love a good mystery. I love a great opportunity. The answers I seek can be found, but first I have to embrace the opportunity I've been given. Only then will the mystery be revealed. Or so I hope, and in the meantime, it's bound to be an adventure.