Seeing Red

On Anger and Equilibrium

It’s evening, and I have stumbled so far out of the groove, I seem to be floating through the day. And once again there are things I cannot write here. Things that push most other thoughts into the deep pockets of my mind. I managed to make dinner. To write an email. But honestly, I cannot account for the day.

Things will fall back to earth again, settle somehow. And we will go on. At least I am sure of that now. The chaos — the order — as though a god is shaking dice in a cup and spilling them over the table. Coming back to do it again when the weather moves in. Eh. He shrugs his shoulders and wanders away from the table again. And we’d be foolish to try do anything but roll with it. What does trying even mean under these kinds of circumstances? Most often I find myself wanting to undo a random event. Like trying to wish an earthquake into never having happened. Wishing away cancer. Or even a broken trust.

Roll with it. Tumble with it. I’ve heard that drunk people survive accidents more often than sober people, because their bodies are too slow to resist. (I don’t know if this is actually true.) The wu wei of wine.

Acceptance is a difficult word to define in an experiential way. Accept this gift. Accept this poison. Odd fact: gift is poison in Norwegian.