The Internet was out this morning. So was the phone and cable. Only in these exceedingly rare moments of blissful disconnection (once the initial panic subsides) do I seem able to connect with the only person that matters, or at least the first person that should matter–me.
Without an occasional, honest attempt at self-reflection, it’s easy to automatically lead in reality what self-reflection consistently points to as the most probable reality: a pathetic life of utter incoherence.
Personally, speaking in this moment of blissful disconnection (albeit a forced labor of inner peace as I glance down at the Internet connection icon—again), I’m not too concerned about the incoherent part. What could I possibly do to introduce a common line of understanding or meaning to mankind, aside from becoming another Sunday morning for-profit prophet? It’s the pathetic thing that worries me.
What if I flail in my efforts (images of a panicked drowning)? What if I rock-steady plod down the dead-wrong path? Both seem pathetic, but not nearly as pathetic as the third recurring nightmare: what if I give up trying?
Trying what, one would surely ask (and don’t call me Shirley)?
Even though I know deep down that my “quest” (images of Monty Python’s Life of Brian aside) is extraordinarily unlikely to yield any lasting life altering principles, paradoxically, that has nothing to do with trying. How will I learn more of what I don’t know that I don’t know if I don’t at least keep trying?
And so, the well-worn path toward perceived enlightenment spider-webs with exponential incoherence into utter confusion. Pathetic.
Thank God (or Tony Robbins, whatever); the Internet icon stops me cold from spiraling further into pathetic incoherence (maybe…). Time to quit wasting time and get on with the day, you know, to get cracking at giving “it” a try: after all, it’s the manly (and womanly) thing to do.
Please be advised that this was written earlier and the internet, phone, and cable are all operational. There is no need to panic.