I have never been an overly ambitious person, so to hit my thirties and discover that there’s just some shit I must do has been a little jarring for me. I do believe the message my parents were trying to teach us when we were growing up is that God will provide whatever it is you need and wanting earthly things misses the point; focus on Godly things.
I think the message we all got was something like “don’t want things and you won’t be disappointed when you don’t get them.”
But, so, here I am, wanting some things, which is weird, but I’m trying to be cool about it. Ha ha ha ha ha. No, seriously, this is me trying to be cool about it. Imagine what it would be like if I were to just give into it.
But I still get sidetracked by “MIINNEEE!” at weird times. Like I saw this morning that Jack White is our first inaugural Music City Ambassador and I was like “Fuck Jack White! I should be a Music City Ambassador.” People. I am not even a musician. But I was all “I’d better be our second inaugural Music City Ambassador or heads are going to roll! God damn it, I will redefine inaugural to make this shit happen!!!”
This is not going to cut it. I’m all for striving and wanting things, but I’m not all for losing all common sense, which appears to be my case at the moment.
Still, it’s odd. And speaking of thoughts that go nowhere good, I wonder, too, how much of it is just finally getting a doctor (or team of doctors) who could fucking help me, you know? My chemical stew was one way that was not good for me and now is another way, which is. Would it have made a difference if all my cells were stewing in this chemical bath back in grad school? In college?
You see what I mean? No good can come of that. I’ve been thinking a lot about my uncle’s willingness to believe that my cousin’s kid has a tumor to send a message to my cousin. And the truth is that I understand that impulse–that people, even I, want to believe that things happen for a reason. Like I’m sitting here wondering if there’s some reason, some purpose, to trying to do these things–like write a book and get it published–that I’ve always wanted to do, my whole life–now instead of in my 20s. Hormones? Mid-life crisis? The gods sending me a message?
But the truth is, and I believe this is the whole truth, some shit just happens. Good and bad. We don’t have as much control over things as we’ve gone to elaborate lengths to make seem like we have. There is no message in most things. Some get lucky, some do not.
Which is not to say that I don’t believe in messages. Shoot, I’m as superstitious as fuck.
I don’t know. I guess what I’m saying is that I recognize my uncle’s impulses in myself–that impulse to put things in order, to understand that there’s a way you do things and, if you do things that way, good things will happen and if you don’t, bad things of course come to you. And he’s kind of trapped by that, in ways I think he sometimes sees. My uncle is like my dad in this regard. They can be viciously mean, but it is almost never, if ever, about the people they are being mean towards. They are almost always reacting to feeling vulnerable in some way by making it so you can’t hurt them (which is not to excuse them, but just to point out how it works).
But, like I said, I feel this tendency in myself and I don’t want to be trapped in it like they are.
But I also want to want things and to figure out how to get them. So… yeah, it’s tricky.