I am tired. Very tired. And it’s not just physical fatigue. It’s sort of a depression. First stage maybe. Either that or simply frustration. Resignation. I’m surrendering to a truth that I don’t want to accept. That there are some things in life that I can’t change. Life. Is. Fragile.
The fragility of life sometimes strikes hard. Most of the time it doesn’t feel like that for us fortunate enough to live healthy, in affluent and peaceful societies. Ignorant to the millions of tragedies playing 24/7 in the lives of others. But no person is protected against the really rough parts on the path of life. Whether rich or poor. Young or old.
While we’re young, we’re often blessed with ignorance concerning the frailty of our existence. And that is a good thing. To set out in life with a solid portion of (perceived) invincibility is maybe even a precondition to dare to take important and essential leaps in life like settling down with a partner, having kids, taking on big projects, moving abroad and so on.
At some point though reality catches up. Necessarily. As we become parents, our parents grow older – and we start to spot our own hair going through all shades of grey – the probability that someone in our close circle of family, relatives or friends will suffer an illness or even die is high.
The realisation that life can break as easy as porcelain can spur a sort of life crisis. Not a so-called midlife-kind-of-crisis that makes you run off and buy a motor-bike or get a lover. That might even be considered a positive move by some weird TV shrinks. But something much more profound happens. Witnessing someone you are close to being very sick makes you think and feel a lot. Feeling sorry for the person in pain. Thinking a lot about how to help in the best possible way. Taking in the anxiety that you or your kids can become sick. It is a combination of very abstract and very concrete thoughts.
I play this game often. What if it would be me. But with my parents getting older I play another game too. What will happen, if shit happens. How will I cope? Well the short answer is I won’t. I don’t want to.
I don’t know how I believe. But I do believe in something. Can’t get more concrete than that. All I know is that good and bad energy have an influence. I like to believe in the power of positive thoughts. And in rare, rational moments I get it. But most of the time I don’t. And irrational as I am, I keep wondering why? Why do people, good people, innocent people, young people, brothers, parents, children have to die from accidents, diseases and own will. Why? Why can’t we cope with the loss?
Unable to provide an answer and fully aware that I can’t change things but have to accept them I go to sleep. My mind once again wandered off the really dark paths.
This summer is not an easy one.