a premise

[outlier_lynn]

There is a lovely little philosophical premise that starts like this:

You can tell what a person wants by what they have.

Isn't that delicious! It's like double chocolate cheesecake with cream cheese frosting served with a caramel drizzle and a steaming mug of cocoa. Yep. It's a wonderful place to start.

If you look at your life -- the friends you have, the sweetie, kids and pets you have, and the job, hobbies, debt and affairs -- and take as the given that your life looks as it does because you want all the things, people and circumstances, then there's a starting point for examining why you want what it so clearly seems that you want.

For the each and every of your life, what is that thing providing? And what is the cost of keeping it? And of letting it go?

Wouldn't it be great if one could yard sale or e-bay the flotsam and jetsam of one's life?

I pretty routinely have my heart broken. I don't mean that I have a love go wrong. I've had some of that, but not much. No, I have my heart broken because the people I love suffer in some way that I suffered for a long time.

Do I want that ache? I say I don't. But I know of only one way to get rid of it. And I've tried several variations on that theme. I'm not willing to live a hermit's life and I'm certainly not willing to die to avoid pain -- not even my own, let alone anyone else's.

So, I'll have my sympathy pain. In some perverse way I enjoy it. It's intense sometimes and intense emotions are the one's I know the best. They are unambiguous and, in their own way, pleasant.

I've given up my habit of trying to save those I love from pain. That was my own brand of suffering for years.

The best I can offer is to listen and answer questions. I can't decide what is best for another. Especially when I think I know. I can provide comfort to the willing and love even to the unwilling.

Finally, I'm off to bed. sigh. I feel like a little kid. I can hardly keep my eyes open and my limbs feel distant and heavy. And I want nothing to do with bed. I don't even want to be in my house. I can come up with THREE places to be that aren't here. I can't be in those places for several reasons. So, I'll strip down, throw myself into my bed, toss and turn for awhile. Grab my current book, read the same paragraph five times and fall asleep.

Right now I'm thinking about two people in particular. I love them both. I wish that was powerful magic. Powerful enough. It's not. So, I'll ache a little over them. And give what will be accepted.

Love is very powerful. It brings with it great strength and empathy. But with all things strong, continuous challenges to it's power will confront us. It's easy to say, "Fuck it." It's easy to quit, throw in the towel and give up on love even when it's not love that is causing the pain.

I don't give up on love. I'd be adrift and dieing on the seas if I did. Been there, done that. I don't hold out much hope of a third miraculous salvation. I've got to keep my wits about me in the world.

There is no win-win without love. At best, there's a draw.

Night.