Chris Herrington, Contributing Writer
“Sometimes it seems that we are so far gone that we might as well just go on with it. I mean, what is the point of trying if there is no way to make it work anyway?” This is the very mindset that many people entertain on a daily basis. Their pessimism defines them. I find that there is a very interesting way of deal with these human transactions. We need to question everything, including ourselves. What in the world are people trying to do in the first place? What is the point of even working from day to day at all?
This is a particularly difficult and burdensome question to ask the young. With all of that “life” still laid out in front of them, with all that “energy” still to be harnessed, and all of that “time” to be worked through, it seems that most of our youth is spent wanting to be older, and the irony is that the old, the elders, regret their wasted hours and wish to have them back.
The young waste what the elderly covet. So many hours to be wasted. So many days to be escaped from. So many nights to be eluded. So much sleep to be had. So much money to be unwisely spent. And the real kicker is that most of what seems so absolutely necessary will be lost and forgotten as days used, all as moments of unbridled forgetfulness. It goes without saying that those who waste it now will never really totally recover from that first loss of time, energy, money, love, or satisfaction. The hours will pour by every notation quickly enough until every day will seem like a Saturday; there will be no going home, no ultimate fairness in life.
Maybe the reason the “first cut is the deepest,” that the first love-loss is so profound, is that it is really the first time that we recognize the reality of our humanity, that some day it will all go the way. The depression that comes with loss and dissatisfaction and pain is so overwhelming that we have to make a concerted effort to get back on our feet if we are ever going to really recover, and that is a study in life all its own. Why get up in the morning? It’s just going to get dark all over again. Why wash the dishes when they are just going to get dirty again?
The end of school, the end of a relationship, the end of a job….in each moment when we get to the near-end, we ask the same questions. Can’t we move on to something that will actually work? It becomes an illness we can’t seem to escape. Everything is annoying when we don’t feel good or can’t help alleviate our pain. Every new and exciting thing becomes a problem in training. It’s too close on the table; it casts a shadow; it makes a squeak. When I put things down on a table, they spin. I have to consciously work at putting things down so they are set down flat on the table so they won’t spin. It drives me crazy. And I do it to myself. What am I subconsciously telling myself?
I often wonder why it is that that “spinning” affects me so much, or a dripping faucet, or a fluttering fan blade, or a flopping window shade, or a piece of paper caught in the undercurrent of a blowing air conditioner. Why can’t I just let these things go and be happy about it? Maybe I can’t really do anything about it at 3:17 A.M., but I have to try. Standing on the bed with a flashlight trying to adjust the fan blade and light globe screws, here I am trying to effect a change; it’s in my nature.
Maybe some people can just sit in the heat of it, the absolute heat, or the whirring sound, or the buffeting clatter of some oscillating fan blade, but I can’t. I am not built that way. I just feel I have to try to do something. It drives me nuts. I can’t let it go. I guess I feel it’s never too late to make a change, to tighten things up, to communicate a little more, or to work on a project a little later. I guess I feel that it is just never ever too late.
runningturtle87
