Zero to Sixty

When things are complicated, we tend to want to skip to the end, a time where the complicated has turned into wisdom.  A time where we can move on with our lives and dedicate ourselves to simplicity.

Of course this is impossible.  We may find a way to "fast forward" to some kind of conclusion, but in doing so we deprive ourselves of the valuable experience we wanted to run to in the first place.  And in the end, that can make things more complicated than they already were, and probably a whole lot more regretful.

I've written a lot, here and in a private journal, about the value of "sitting with it."  I have come to accept that this is the only way to handle difficult life events, but it takes a lot of reminding myself.  It takes even more energy to remind the others involved.  When you're in something with somebody else, you're tied together even when you're separated.  This is especially true when the relationship is long: not only are there emotions to untangle, there's also material objects and logistical matters that - let's face it - have their own share of emotional entanglements.

The real complicated stuff comes when you're ready to run with some things but still need to sit with others.  You're already stretched thin enough from emotional wear-and-tear and the exhaustion of your day-to-day life; one part of you running off while the other struggles to stay put is a true testament to our elasticity.  You have to have elasticity, otherwise you'll be torn in half.  Fortunately I've always been flexible.

Sometimes, though, the "ready to run" part takes off like a leashed dog who's just seen a rabbit.  It takes you by complete surprise.  Your arm gets yanked, your wrist strained from the leash almost slipping from your grasp, and you fight to keep things at a more reasonable pace.  It's still too fast for the part of you that needed stillness, but way too slow for the one that needs motion.  Onlookers view the event, knowing full well what it feels like but laughing all the same, mostly because your "no-really-I'm-fine" demeanor has cued them to do so.  Still and again, no amount of flexibility can sustain such instantaneous force applied, and you're bound to at the very least be sore from the event, even if your arm hasn't been completely torn from its socket.

The simple can be so complicated.