. elsewhere . . letters from the inaccessible .


11 March 2001

not willing to wait.

When I feel a symptom, a threat of onset of something, I get extremely impatient. Simple aches are clue to an oncoming kidney stone, or a flu, or something more horrible, or at least, that is what I make them into in my mind. So I stew and I fret, waiting for an imaginary threshold to be passed, where I can say to myself, "It's over," or "It's time to see a doctor." Indeterminate physical states, I realize, are very painful for me mentally (I must also concede the converse to be true at times). It's the not knowing if it will simply go away or blossom into a need for medical attention. And when it is clear, I don't fret any longer, I don't continue to worry, because then an issue has arisen, and I simply compose myself and do something about it. So when I get an ache or a pain, and it persists for a day or two, I start the fretting sessions and wish that whatever is going to happen would happen now. 99 times of a hundred, it simply goes away... but I can recount, in that perfect detail you know I can, each of those 1 percent which became somehow horrible; kidney stone in '96, that undefined stomach problem in '98 when I couldn't eat and lost 30 pounds... I don't convince myself into such things (how can one mentally manufacture a kidney stone?), but I tend to make them worse than they need to be.

And I know that everyone has the same strange things happen, but we all keep them to ourselves, don't we? I don't believe that making mention of such things belies a weakness, but we've all been taught that it is, and so I remain silent. Perhaps I'm wrong. The silliness and frailty, the crudeness and the strength of the human body is amazing, but we're taught that it is only a container for the soul, something we ought to take care of that the soul which inhabits it may live long and happily on this earth. But why do we so often separate its joys and pleasures, its insults and pains, from those of our soul and mind? Or, more pointedly, why do I?

musings of señor prod.

Doing the things The Revolution can.

03.23.01: The Experience Begins on the Web


©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-