And so it is that once again I find one of my lives saturating the other. The things we do for money! I started this “12 for 21” series of posts to force myself to look at the beauty in the world, in life. After the last month, I am just grateful that I haven’t killed anyone… again. I was a day late, last month … because I forgot what day it was. This month I am 10 days late, but I was no longer the master of my life. I was a slave to others, and I had given myself willingly. Reflecting on what has happened, I realise that my life is not only not my own, it is out of control. It will have its revenge. It will kill me. It will try.
Nonetheless, I keep waking up alive. To be honest, this has been both a source of surprise and encouragement for over twenty years now. Admittedly, in my youth it was certainly more likely that some socially unacceptable behaviour on my part put me at risk, while these days, it appears to be the system doing its best.
When I say system, I mean everything that I feel I don’t have control over, which is an increasingly large and scary subset of all things. That should not be interpreted as giving up. Deep down, I think that I’m a survivor. I do what I have to do and I fight for what I can. When and where I can, I also fight for those that can’t, but that requires a challenging mix of zen and optimism. When you are staring in the face of insurmountable odds, you must stand fast and meet it with the determination worthy of a Henry Rollins stare. You must then have the optimism to keep walking forward once you can.
As a cold war child, I long ago got used to the idea that in the end of days, it would be me and the cockroaches. I do not look for this day, but I will be ready. In the mean time, perhaps my optimism will win through and I will not be alone. I am working on it.
Tomorrow, I will get up again.
Harry T. Tuttle 