Musings
Am I in control of how I feel? This past week has been hell on crutches for me. Can't do shit, can't think, have let all my deadlines pass, have been hit on by five different women and couldn't do shit.
It is as if I were living in a state of eternal fatigue, dragging my tired ass all over the place, being there with friends because the alternative is worse, that expensive lonely ugly apartment.
How can someone be so tired that food, sex and parties all lose appeal? Notice how I placed food atop the chain - although I am not starving myself, few foods really catch my attention.
Must be this spring thing, to which I am not used yet.
However, it is still annoying to be this tired, not being able to enjoy a cup of wine for fear of falling sleep in the middle of my hostess living room. Not that I did, mind you, but the idea was even more tempting than her dancer legs.
On a post by Meegan I was considering what is this mortality thing, and why is it that it touches with such strength, such absolute impassioned definite moment.
No, I am not thinking about my own death, just remembering the old Zen story about the samurai that had conquered his own fear of death, and therefore, had achieved an enlightened status.
If anything, I am wondering if this extreme fatigue might be my own way of dealing with that fear of death, that which rents dreams, closes doors and eliminates opportunities. A way to blame something else, perhaps, or more likely my own body, telling me to focus on what is important, to stop running around trying to be all for everybody, when my resources are so limited, my energy finite, my strength my weakness.
Talked to a Buddhist teacher here in town, should email him. Perhaps not strangely, when I had done the things that most defy my timid and comfortable nature, is when I feel most alive: jumping out of planes, partying, hiking, getting out of bed at 5 in the morning.
I am going to talk to the dancer again - let's see if I can conquer my fear of her heights.