“I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you're going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.”
― C. JoyBell C.
I have been sitting on my latest blog entry for so long that I'm afraid to look at the calendar to find out exactly how long it has been. More worrisome is that I seem more preoccupied with understanding why this has taken so long than getting the thing done and uploaded. Doubting that I can back up my claim that I don't believe in hope? Worried that people will think I'm some sad, depressive fellow worthy of their pity? Concerned that some readers will be turned off by my statement?. A confessional yes to all!
I also realized that I needed to cleanse my blogging palate, as I was a tired blogger who seemed more intent on swiftly justifying my current position than discovering if there was an alternative truth to my seeming condemnation of hope (and there’s no tougher pill to swallow than the realization that there might be an alternative truth). I had been gnawing on the same empty bones for weeks.
I clearly needed to refresh. Luckily I have been a long-suffering Windows user for many years and knew exactly what my options were:
1. Refresh Blair without it affecting his blogging work to date. You can refresh without losing your jokes, cartoons, and any other filler that you get from Wikipedia. Get out of the house, get physical, reconnect with a friend,
2. Delete everything and reinstall Blair. Choose this option if not even your mother will read your blog anymore. Shut down system completely. Load your bikes on the car and go and enjoy the unbeatable therapeutic triple crown of mountains, cycling, and espresso. If you want to start your current blog piece afresh, this will restore yourself to factory settings. Why keep anything? It was a piece of rubbish.
So seriously, you don't "believe" in hope? No, in all honesty I cannot make that claim. I made the mistake of blogging about a very sensitive topic in an extremely hyperbolic state late one night. This often happens in the wee hours of the morning when the veracity plummets and the drivel seems to run like the readership of a seriously misunderstood blogger.
With Parkinson’s, hope is at best, a dim bulb, a flickering 5 watts of low probability construct. Like a night light, it functions as an emergency beacon; its primary purpose is to prevent you from walking into walls at night and becoming the butt of office water cooler jokes. It is best not relied on as your primary source of illumination or inspiration.
I do believe in hope. I simply remain unconvinced that there is much utility in it for me - at least for now. I mean, I keep some in my toolbox, but I've yet to find a job where I needed to pull it out. It's like those “hex” bits (six headed screwdriver bits). When you do finally find a job that you can use it on, you realize that you can actually make do with other bits (an appropriately sized Robertson, or a slot screwdriver) just as well. What kind of self-respecting Macguyver would rely on such a “uni-purpose tool?”
I know, I know, I hear what you're saying, “He's fine now, but wait until he has a bit less to cheer about, then he'll be singin’ hope’s tune. He sure sounds like one of those Republicans, trashing Obamacare - until their Reaganesque luck runs out and they catch a neurodegenerative disease. See them sprint to hop on the bandwagon.
Honestly, I love the idea of hope - I can snuggle up to the warm and fuzzy image projected as well as anyone else. It’s just the practice of it that doesn’t appeal. So where does that leave us, to live for today and screw tomorrow? Overindulging in hope risks not respecting Parkinson's and its proven track record of neurodegeneration. Could German philosopher Nietzsche’s remark that, “There is no greater misery than to remember happier times” be reconfigured to: “There is no greater misery than to pre-live unhappy times expected in your future". I don’t think there’s anything wrong with focusing on today because you don’t like the prospect of the tomorrow that Parkinson's is likely to present you.
|The Road West Beckons...|
Gotta run, sun is rising and the road west to the Foothills beckons. Time for another dose of CycloTherapy. Have no idea where we will end up, but that’s ok...