Today a new chill is in the air - as if the gracious autumnal transition has bypassed us. It's not the shocking degree but the static slanting light that foreshadows the cold to come.
I don't feel this way about the weather alone; my life itself has a forecast which I refuse to call bleak but cannot call exciting. The prospect of living this version of life for years to come is unbearable. It makes me still - deeply still, which for me is the utmost manifestation of a violent resignation. I hate to resign myself to life as it is but know that I have no choice. I am doing what I must do and living how I must live based on my own choices.
It is a radical and immediately transformative revelation that the perpetuity of life's events happen in a cause & effect (decision & consequence) manner... inescapably.
I am living a straight line.
There are no curves and
No surprises...
No upcoming turns
Or tweaks to the plan.
I act correctly because I no longer retain the adolescent luxury of rebellion - this system is my god and I cannot escape its unbending rule.
This is a closed system of finite possibilities.
and I have no wonder anymore.
I feel like an ancient idiot who marvels at insipid, blithe youth with both envy and resentment.
What is left to enjoy?
The orange is sucked dry.
The hard part with this, as with any dismal season of life, is that I cannot grin and bear it and jump to a time when it will be otherwise... I am daily being formed by this... this work and repetition and boredom and cold. I want its filthy hands off of me - but that too is not a choice I have.
To quote Tobias, "And so I will toil on through this waking life."
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