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1-27-08C Grateful for my adversity

As I continue to write – sitting here on my comfortable bed – looking out over the stormy horizon – A slightly chilly breeze blowing– rattling the aluminum window frames – The towering pine tree shaking before the gusty wind – which blows an occasional raindrop on my hot cheeks. Still slightly dizzy and weak from the Lyme – Perhaps a little more inspired than usual due to the antibiotics – intoxicated wooziness

“And I am incredibly grateful for the Lyme.”

Wife: “”Whoa! Talk about looking of the positive. Why for God’s sake?”

Me: “I’m not looking for anything. It’s true. I was blessed by that tic bit.”

“This I‘ve got to hear. Why?”

It forced me to slow down I was moving too fast. I had too much momentum. Couldn’t stop – Running here – Running there – Never clear. I needed to stop completely – give myself a reset – Gain perspective. I’m afraid that even two weeks is not enough. But at least it’s a start.”

“So Lyme disease forced you to stop, which gave a deeper perspective on your life?”

“Even more. With no vitality due to the mite bite, I had no energy for my projects. I had no choice but to enjoy the smell of the nighttime air. Or perhaps it gave me the excuse I needed to stop. Otherwise my driven self is so in charge that he can block anything else but his neurotic need to accomplish – his need to succeed, to produce,

He drives me crazy with his obsessive projects. He never lets me alone for long. Even now, as I listen to the exquisite harmonies of a cloudburst – accompanied by swaying leaves – the drip, drop, drop of water from the eaves - combined with the erratic rattling of the windows. Even as I’m immersed in this luscious sensation my driven self pesters me to write it down – in this literary outpouring  - Abortion after abortion as I’m running off to Tai Chi - playing the organ – working on my website – and then off to work – or even on off-nights - a walk on the beach every Wednesday – or another Tai Chi class on Tuesdays – followed by dinner out. Then the relentless weeks start over again.

And I’m filled to overflowing with so many projects that it will take lifetimes to complete them all – when I’m only given one. And so this Driven Self (Now I’ve named him) has taken over again – with his ambitions and such – wondering if what I say here has any literary merit whatsoever- If anyone will even want to read it - And if so in what form?  And if not – why waste my time on such trivia? And if you presume it does have merit - that someone someday might want to read these random scribblings - why, for God’s sake, are you writing it out long hand? Why not write it directly out on the computer? –

But it is so exquisite sitting here on the bed – propped up with pillows - scribbling my life away (for better or worse –‘till death do us part. Amen)

And yet he still keeps bugging me with this and that – And I finally yell back at him: “I’m just doing it for myself.”