Life and the Latest Tangent.

I’ve always been lucky in having a faculty that some people tell me they envy. If there’s something I can’t have, I simply don’t want it. I don’t have to work at not wanting it, it just happens automatically. That means I don’t miss things I haven’t got, which is a neat trick if you can do it. I usually can, but not every time.

Just occasionally I want something I can’t have so desperately that I have to find some means of taking my mind off it, like housework or gardening or simply pacing up and down in the ridiculous hope that the meagre expenditure of energy will calm me down. It doesn’t work, of course. External distractions sometimes do if they’re exciting or entertaining enough, but external distractions are just as likely to make the frustration worse. When that happens, I can’t wait to be alone and sit with my head in my hands, close my eyes, and engage with the frustration until it wears me out. Then I go to bed.

Fortunately, this doesn’t happen often, which is just as well because it’s a ridiculous waste of life. Or is it? Am I not life, however I choose to use it? Is life not me? Can life be used up? Can life be wasted? I somehow think not. So is life enough? I don’t know.

And what happens when life itself is the source of the frustration? Full circle.

I haven’t a clue where this train of thought is taking me. I think I’ll put my head in my hands, close my eyes... and listen to Smaointe.