Apr 26
I’m sitting here, 200 words into a story that I don’t really want to be writing, and I figure that it might be better just to throw out another post. This will be the third of the day, which seems a little excessive, but I’ll write it anyway. I didn’t have anything to do for a few hours at work today so I played around with this site a little more. I got a links page up, disguised under a stupid Dr. Seuss label. I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing half the time, but dumb ideas seem to never cease. I get bored with functionally designed labels like ‘Home’ and ‘Links’. And since I deal with them for a good 40 hours each week, I’d just assume use something else, no matter how dumb, on my own time. Right now, that dumb something else involves book titles.
I’ve been sweating some decisions lately. Lately, of course, a euphimism for the past few months. I keep thinking about how to write it. Or even whether to write it. I can’t seem to find resolution just by thinking so maybe putting it down in my handy dandy notebook will provide the missing guidance. Probably not. I keep thinking about it just the same. Around the time I graduated high school I wouldn’t have thought life could get much more complicated. My life was made miserable by the various roadblocks and speedbumps I just couldn’t seem to avoid. Somehow, the decisions I faced then are made insignificant and straightup petty when compared to the ones for today. I’d like to hope that these are insignificant too, but I just can’t manage to believe it. Somewhere along the way I was blown off track and the necessary course corrections are becoming more and more difficult to face. At some point I fear that I will be forced to simply choose a new path rather than continue the one on which I started. And I’m afraid where it will lead.
I’ll start a new paragraph, one without navigation metaphors. How is it possible for so many people to be content with their lives? And if they aren’t, how is it possible for them all to be so complacent? And if they aren’t, then how the hell do people survive from one day to the next? I’m more than a little timid about continuing this thought process out loud, and will cut it short accordingly, but it’s a conversation that sooner or later I need to have. I am rereading East of Eden, and every few chapters I’m reminded why it’s my favorite book. So maybe instead of trying to write my life into a short story, I should quote a passage from a story that’s already written, one that speaks to my life more eloquently.
Adam said, “I’ve wondered why a man of your knowledge would work a desert hill place.”
“It’s because I haven’t courage,” said Samuel. “I could never quite take the responsibility. When the Lord God did not call my name, I might have called His name – but I did not. There you have the difference between greatness and mediocrity. It’s not an uncommon disease. But it’s nice for a mediocre man to know that greatness must be the loneliest state in the world.”
“I’d think there are degrees of greatness,” Adam said.
“I don’t think so,” said Samuel. “That would be like saying there is a little bigness. No. I believe when you come to that responsibility the hugeness and you are alone to make your choice. On one side you have warmth and companionship and sweet understanding, and on the other – cold, lonely greatness. There you make your choice. I’m glad I chose mediocrity, but how am I to say what reward might have come with the other? None of my children will be great either, except perhaps Tom. He’s suffering over the choosing right now. It’s a painful thing to watch. And somewhere in me I want him to say yes. Isn’t that strange? A father to want his son condemned to greatness! What selfishness that must be.”