Sunday Morning Thoughts: 12.3.17

Oh, sweet and bitter and bittersweet opportunity. A crisis of hopes and realities drawn together in a briefly witnessed moment and provoked by a choice. What to do, what to do?

And maybe quicker than it arrived, off it goes. To the endless depths of wonder, regret and the hypotheticals of former possibilities. Will another approach? Who knows? It certainly stands to argue that no two are quite the same. Circumstantially speaking, the formula of what went down can never be what it was, once it not longer is. All imitations, interpretations or renditions afterward, are just that. Fantasies, of a sort.

So, there it is. In all its awe and glory. The opportunity- gold clad perhaps, or at the very least pronounced and noticed.

And then, we choose. Inactivity or some sort of action. To do nothing is a choice, vaguely quoting a Canadian band I don’t care for all that much. Some people think that’s mad, but I just don’t like them. I get it, they probably practice a whole bunch and spend time. They just don’t have the balls, you know? No gusto. Skill. No soul.

I’d rather have soul than skill any day. But that is not what this is about. And let’s not give Rush more time than they deserve. As I already have.

Yet as I waste a paragraph, possibility may have been passing by. Choosing to do nothing.

But how can one ever know if they are making the right moves? Forget any gods or good luck charms or whatever else keeps a mind at ease, and really dig in. What is it that reveals if the option chose was the righteous one?

Morality can be skewed. Just any religious leader who goes to war.

Or the many other crimes theologians have committed on other enemy combatants. Like a few of their followers and such. And such. Evil and harm and all sorts of abuse justified for a goal that may never benefit the sheep.

Yet, people go to their gods and their shamans and spiritual folk- mystic, mad, malicious or otherwise. Folks go to them to inquire about the clairvoyance of what might be considered a good person.

And maybe we don’t need to think on such large terms to apply to our personal lives. But I did anyway.

Because it is harder to think of one’s own self. Because it is and was and will be more real. As real as things get. Too real, at times.

I have not yet started, never mind spread my own faith to weave control or some junk like that. But I have chosen wrong before. And those choices effect and affected the bubble of my universe and those stuck living in or around it. Or I, in theirs. Both, really. Sometimes what was thought wrong was right and the inverse. Others, all choices were grand and great and all that. Still, some were a good ol’ shit buffet.

Does not make it easy to know which is what and why is where. To know what choice will produce the desired result implies, if nothing else, that we all know what we want. Which we do not. I don’t. Haven’t. Didn’t. Might never.

Or I do, and just cannot understand it yet. Which is nearly the same as not knowing.

And for all this seeming apprehension, my argument does not confide in cowardice or safe betting. You know. Things could always get worse, so keep them the same.

No, I cannot say I think that is the answer to all this.

Instead, I suggest boldness. Not always, of course. And not without some poetry. Or charm. Or elegance. Being bold all the time becomes the boring norm. And makes you a bit of an ass.

But when presented with confusion or conundrum, sometimes the best thing to do is everything. Abandon the passive and embrace something wilder. Take a risk. If there is the possibility to stay idle, even small ones, that may be harder to live with than failure.

Don’t kid yourself though. This is no positivity meme. I am not here to inspire those who hold no ability for inspiration. And I do not promise reward that cannot be guaranteed.

Boldness has consequence. And though the choice of nothing likely does as well, a large amount of action does provoke a comparative size of reaction. But if you are going to set yourself up for failure, might as well make a show of it.

For eventually, all those choices lead you somewhere. And that somewhere may have less choices. And as life goes on, choices run out. As time runs out. Ticking away and changing the state of events in one’s life- it chips away at what you may be able to do. A time when you may have wished you made other choices. Or made any choices at all. A somber reflection of hindsight. While unable to do anything about it.


You buy the plane tickets, if your other option is staying home in fear. Such trips do not have to be one-way to be extraordinary.

If you can, and you want, and you maybe think you should. Take a chance. Failure means try again or try something else. Or quit. But you’re likely to have a better idea of what it is you are after, once you try and get at it.

Some one once said something about the road less traveled. Like going to Denmark in the winter.

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