About The Horse or Saddle or Whatever
Post 263:
I haven’t posted anything for a spell, for several reasons. They’re all boring reasons, except maybe one, and I hate being boring—so enough of that jazz. I’m pushing out another book, and the end of the process pretty much sucks all the life from my other endeavors.
But it shouldn’t. Sometimes it feels like the more and more we grow up, the more and more we have to learn to take on.
Actually, that’s exactly what it feels like. Unless you just sold an app to Google and are cashing out at age 25, that’s what it feels like.
But dammit, there are times when it’s useful to do an inventory. So that’s what I’m going through. Checking to see what’s on the shelves, what I need more of, what’s left for the rest of the world.
Of course this is something that the well-adjusted do on a daily basis.
Of course, I’m not well-adjusted.
My process is that I need to limit my processes—meaning, simply, there are times when I have to drop everything and fixate on one target or goal.
This is not the healthiest method for cardiac health, and it’s not for everyone. In fact, it’s pretty damn stupid. Because the stuff just keeps coming, the things that are unavoidable, the inevitable, the adult. It’s a health thing or a relationship thing or a friend thing or a job thing. So many things. So little time. It’s enough to want to shut down.
So that’s what I do. And when I shut down, we’re talking full stop. Abort. Pull down the shades. Use the deadbolt and chain the door. No one gets in. No world, not until I say so. And when I say so, it’s back on the horse. Or the saddle. Or whatever they say.
I realize this is probably due to some latent problem in psyche. Perhaps it’s my masculinity. My lack of identity. A disordered personality. Could be a mistaken sense of reality. Probably due to a serious lack of ability.
Or just might be…people need a break. From the everything. From the next thing. From themselves. Just might be. Cheers. See you after.
