3 weeks

It was three weeks ago that I had some very unpleasant news.  No need for details.  Sometimes people aren't who you anticipate them to be.  Something always is there to remind us that humans are walking timebombs.  Tick tick tick tick . . . Boom! 

And here I am in the aftermath of what felt like at the time, the end of my life.  Naturally that is just a knee jerk emotional reaction.  Some time has passed and I have had an opportunity to digest and gain perspective.  There is an old adage that says "A crisis is an opportunity riding the dangerous wind".  I like this.  It implies a little more work than the watered down westernized version of "when god closes a door he opens a window."  If there is anything I have learned about life in my short tenure on this planet it is that there are no free rides.  Sure, you can coast on momentum, but sooner or later you have to start earning your way through pain, sweat, and toil.  And right now, I am riding the dangerous wind and seizing that opportunity.  Its weird, but I have already accomplished so much in 3 short weeks while dealing some really fucked shit, pardon the coarse vernacular.  I am also going to be faced with some more tough decisions very soon.  I know this.  And I am almost excited by the challenge.  I see a transformation coming over myself.  Something that others have commented on.  It has been a few years since I have actually felt a challenged.  Since I have dealt with defeat.  Since I have been pushed to achieve. 

I was thinking the other day about my mother.  A saint of a woman who I dare say has not a mean bone in her body.  She has spent the last 10 years keeping in very close contact with a woman who used to be my high school soccer coach, Anna.  This woman is severely bi-polar and slightly paranoid schizophrenic and, I might add, very hard to deal with.  My mother has made sure to call her all the time.  Has lunch with her.  helps her through tough times.  Talk her down form her manic days and literally helps keep the gun from her hand on the depressive days.   And the hard thing is, there is no resolution.  This is a battle that will be fought day in and day out.  Most people do things, I believe, already understanding that there is a goal in sight.  That if they do "this" they can achieve "that".  In this case, Anna has no cure and she will deal with this burden for the rest of her life.  And my mother has chosen to give a piece of her heart to try and help ease this pain.  Now, I am sure there is some satisfaction in knowing that you are doing a good deed and making someones life better, but it is hard for me to grasp the will it takes to knowingly enter a losing battle.  And I have seen the frustration on her face many times.  And I have even been involved in exchanges that would have tested His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, and I watched my mother stop, collect herself and continue to persevere.  Now, I may be biased.  She is my mom.  But, I do know that after more than a decade of watching her literally bang her head against this wall, it is more than just be having a inflated opinion of the woman who gave me life.

Now you might be asking yourself how I am going to circle around and make this about myself.  Well, I guess it is pretty simple.  I have a much easier row to hoe and I can rest assured that something will grow from the seeds that get sewn.  So there is my daily dose of perspective.