Archive for February, 2013

Little Poor Me 6

We expect the strangest things out of our lives.

We dream the strangest dreams.

Darkness intrudes itself on the brightest moments of our live, and light on the darkest.

You’ll find yourself thinking from almost one moment to the next that you’re the happiest of the saddest that you’ve ever been. The switch is so sudden that hindsight sheds little knowledge on what made it happen. Hindsight so often produces only cliches.

Cliches are hard to avoid, because they teach us how to thinking.

Thinking is overrated.

I find myself re-imaganing the entirely arc of my life, and it feels like deja vu. How many times have I done this? How many times have I reached out from sadness to find hope? How many times have I seen my own plans crumble in despair, only to watch the mass of them reform into a viable, and even more beautiful, alternative?

And, yet, each time it seems like an affront to my plans.

Each time it seems wrong and unnatural; until it does.

How does one apply this lesson forward? Looking back, when in happiness, I wouldn’t choose to exchange a moment of the past for a different present. Looking back, when in sadness, I would exchange almost any part of it.

What this should have taught me is that the future will always hold some unforseen, meaningful being that I will feel grateful to have. And, yet, that knowledge does nothing in times of despair. And, yet, the remembrance of that does nothing for me in times of delight.

This is the unresolvable. This is the hypocrisy of emotional existence.

So I know that. So I don’t chastise myself for the happy, the way I do for the sad. And, yet…

The past pulls back.

It pulls back so hard.

You find yourself resisting the easy lure of happiness for the pious martyrdom of sad regret.

This is the folly and the sin of hindsight. This is the seeming purity of the past, coveting the murky, complicated future. This is stale, terrible certainty that we allow to swallow the glorious, complicated uncertainty that is our birthright.

The future is in the past: yes. But not because we must look to the past to crave our future, but only because of the simple fact that it was. It was.

The only agency that the past has on us is that is led us to here. We should as soon pray to our footsteps before we enter any door, as venerate the past, or give it sway over what we do, or the decisions that we make, or the happiness we find.

Which is to say: I make a resolution to myself to find comfort in the comfort of the now. To accept the goodness of the good that is around me. To know that I have earned, through sadness, the happiness that I feel — when I feel it — in every little, and great, thing.

Our lives are complicated. And wonderful. And wonderful, because of the complication.

And that’s a simple way of putting it.

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