We take drastic steps when we believe that we’re in peril — the fight or flight reaction. The rumors you hear never seem to sound quite so urgent until they start talking about those things close to you — family, work, life. You hear and you don’t want to believe, you don’t want to get involved, but most of the time it’s already too late, isn’t it? The anecdote that keeps running through my head is that you never hear the bullet that hits you: as they’re traveling faster than sound, you’re shot before you hear the shot.
We spend time worrying about things we can’t change, though, instead of doing what we can, where we can. I remind you that all the extra time, all the extra hours spent in the paralysis of indecision could be spent chipping away. Journey of a thousand miles, single step, you know. A life lived a minute at a time, hour by hour, not looking too far forward, nor casting a backwards glance; is that really ideal, either? Aren’t goals a form of looking at all the work you have in front of you?
Miles pass underfoot; time slips by and leaves us breathless in its wake. Whether or not we choose to change, whether or not we continue to learn, the rules morph into something new. Good enough changes day by day. When do skills start to elude you? What rungs on the ladder remain forever blocked? Where do you decide your comfort zone goes this far and no further?
Can we continue, this world divided, this nation double-yoked end-to-end instead of side-by-side? I’ve said before that the main reason I went East for school had to do with learning out of my depth, but it reinforced what we all have in common. An essential humanity, a universal America, a belief and a hope that this can’t be the end, this isn’t the final, we can pull it around and succeed. Are we realistic?