‘Tis the Season, or Whatever

I just watched a news video, (although I keep thinking I’ve sworn off the news), and I’m glad I caught it.  It was one of those moments, only it was real life instead of some Hollywood adaptation.  England I think, or somewhere in Europe, but I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter really.  In a train station, from a security camera, and the scene unfolds.  People standing in crowds on both sides of the tracks inside the station, tracks running from lower left to upper right.  And then it happens – a man on the left side of the tracks falls down off the platform and onto the set of tracks closest to him.  Down and out, no movement.  People on both sides start pointing and yelling, obviously trying to get the people “in control” to do something, for, of course, there was a train coming.  Moments and too many moments of the pointing and scrambling, nothing happening, and then it did.  From the right side of the tracks a figure appeared, moved across the first set of tracks on his side to get to the other tracks, put his hands on the fallen man and drug him off to the right, and then, of course, mere SECONDS (not many at all) later, the train comes barreling down the tracks, where it would’ve made hamburger out of him.  And it was obvious there was no way it could’ve stopped or been stopped in time.  End of story.  Except perhaps the fact that the hero guy was an off-duty policeman.

So here then, is the rest of the story, the analytical part, that comes to me, and for me it is very timely.  Lots of things are going on.  I’m busy to distraction, but just lately I’m pointing myself in a new direction.  Instead of lamenting the sorry way that things usually are, I’m going about my business and being as happy as it seems righteously possible, and hope to be better about bringing a smiling face to the table instead of the grump who has been inhabiting my shell for the past several months.  I’ve been downright pissed, and I’m not even sure exactly why.  Any situation that has occurred has been at the consequence of a decision I have made, so I suppose the maddest I have been is at myself.  Well, that works, doesn’t it?  Or hopefully, finally, maybe it does.  Maybe it’s a chance to point the fickle finger at where responsibility for my life really belongs.  The perhaps “sad” point about such a revelation is that I’ve been here before.  I know this.  But alas, sometimes even the knowing isn’t enough for your hapless psyche not to go right ahead and put your own self in a sorry snit, and there you are.  And to further the point, NOW I insert something I wrote some time ago.  Here I thought I was all better, then, but no.   So now, I quote my own self, written weeks ago but not published:  (And who knew the station reference would be so prescient?)

I have spent some several previous days in a snit.  I may have to go look up the exact definition of snit, because I want to make sure that was just what I was in.  It wasn’t pleasant, and I’m wondering if there’s anyone to “blame” but myself.  Thankfully I have pulled out of that particular station, (sitting on the porch in the rain helped a lot), and Oh Yes, BLAME will likely be another candidate for discussion in these parts before it’s all over.  Seems I have a lot to say about that, too.  (Quel surprise.)  OK, here it is:

snit |snit|

noun informal

a fit of irritation; a sulk : the ambassador and delegation had withdrawn in a snit.

ORIGIN 1930s: of unknown origin.

Well, crap, I don’t mind the fit and irritation, (quite a pithy and accurate description), but I hate to think I’ve lowered myself to sulking.  Could fit, though.  And I must say, I have not been having a very good time.  And yet, I say I “know” about such things, and attitude being of foremost importance in most all and everything –  yet there I went slipping down the Attitude rabbit hole, (alas, there are many of them on the landscape, very many many), and bad thought begets bad thought and before you know it you’re smack in the middle of a big bowl of Bad Attitude porridge.  Yuck.  I know I don’t like it, but I seem to keep cooking it – every now and then – and then I remember how much it is I don’t like it.  Why do I keep cooking it???????

I espouse that everything, (within certifiable reason), should be fun.  So why is it that I have gotten my knickers in so many knots the last few weeks? Some things occurred that just blew out the Bad Attitude ballast and I’ve been rumbling and grumbling around ever since.  Doesn’t take much detective work to see that it was a little refresher course – a little Continuing Education, you might say – in getting all verklempt over situations that I can’t do anything about, and don’t want to participate in, anyway.  Any further emotion thrown into it is just buying more Victim Spice to throw in the porridge, and it always makes it taste even worse.

Alrighty then, back to the present.  Although who could much tell the difference?  Thing is, I had one of those epiphany things a couple of days ago.  Yes indeedy, I did, and just in time.  They are often so very timely.  I found myself in a place where I was, (now that I think about it metaphorically), feeling about like I was down on that train track and the train was coming.  My buttons got pushed right and left, (well, maybe it was just one BIG button), and I saw and felt myself go back into a well worn pattern, and I seemingly crashed, and fell down on the tracks, and here comes the train.  Once I got myself back home and quieted down a bit, and set my mind to thinking about it instead of being so swept up in familiar (shall I say it, addictive) behavior, I realized the folly of my self-inflicted drama.  How much longer do I have to bleed?  I got back into my sweller self, and sat down and started putting words to a song that has waited THIS long to have the words come.  The melody I’ve had in some way or form since 1968 – rather a long labor, I’d say, for actually the first song I ever wrote.  I’m still writing it, haven’t had the time and occasion to finish it, but I’m not worried now, it’s birthing, and I like it.  It’s had several fits and starts, but it just wasn’t time, and my intent wasn’t clear.  (Could’ve been another Boo Hoo Crying in Your Beer song, but I’ve already done that – not that it wasn’t good AND funny, thank you very much.)  And I just opened myself to feeling good about what’s happening in my life, (my choices, actually), instead of imbuing the goings-on with dread or negativity.  Gee, what do you think I might get out of something that I go into exuding negative vibes?  Duh.

Then it got pointed out to me by a bona fide source that I’ve been, shall we say, not the pleasantest of persons to be around lately.  Well, that’s no surprise – I haven’t been very pleased with being around my own self, so I guess that was the flavor of the season, and the reviews weren’t good.  Point taken, only to have it delivered AFTER I’d just had my epiphany seemed rather like a Cosmic Gotcha Moment, but I refused to be sucked in by it.  I already felt good, so why buy into more bad?  No sale, and my friend and I are talking about it honestly.

To get back to the original start of this entry, I’d like to put my moral on the train station story.  Man on tracks, impending doom, what to DO?  Most everyone there got animated and all pointy and yelling, and trying to get SOMEONE to do SOMETHING.  Well, somebody did.  Without waiting for the proper authorities who were “in charge” and in the end could’ve done nothing in time, one brave and responsible soul did what had to be done.  He went down on the tracks and saved the guy.  It took only one man, but one was all that was needed.  One man made a difference.  Everyone else just made noise about it, saw what needed to be done, but only that one man went down and did the deed.  Hero.

So the point of all this is, not that I want to be some hero, only that I want to be one of the ones who does the doing, instead of telling everyone else what needs to be done and only shrieking about the situation.  Despite the fact that I am quite astute about realizing what EVERYONE ELSE needs to do, (wish I could make a living at it), the most important thing is that I need to DO what I need to do.  Simple as that.  And of course, quoting that Queenie person again:  “It’s very often so simple, but not always so easy.”  Well, yes, OK.  But then again, maybe it is.  Maybe it is easier if we’d just let it be.  That very fact was recently related by my heretofore mentioned friend in a passage similar to this, (but oh so very different), when he said maybe things just could be easy, if we’d just let it be so.  Thank you Ara.

‘Tis the Season of Miracles.  I say I need to live one.  And just BE one.

In the midst of all this Revelation, I think I’m beginning to take a look at Forgiveness.  Well, there’s a big step.  Just in time for New Year’s Revolutions.  Stay tuned.


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