Lessons

I think I can do pretty much anything, fuck you very much. And I have often tried. My winding, meandering career path and life restarts are the visible scars of my persistence. This view of myself is rooted in 52 years of living inside my head and body. In fact, that’s kind of a personality marker for me. I’m known for it. Always have been. The answer is always yes, I can do it. Yes, it’ll be all right. Yes, I’ll work it out. Without a goddam clue how any of that is going to happen. And with zero experience or expertise to bring to the equation. Just force of will. As says my favorite quote: “It is not enough to say that we will do our best. We must do what it takes to see that the thing is done.” Churchill nailed it. I’ve lived my life by it. I always viewed this as my greatest strength. So have others. But is it?

Living life with this kind of hyperfocus and tenacity is intense. Damaging to the nervous system, on its face. Beneath, it can very quickly evolve or devolve into a Machiavellian sense of entitlement. That creates blind spots in which wisdom becomes madness. One must be careful. And mindful. I wasn’t always. Failures come glorious. When I crashed out, brother, I crashed the fuck out. I did not go silent. Successes are glorious as well. Highest of the highs. I could call this bipolar, thrill-seeking lifestyle a natural quirk of my Autism and ADHD. Easily. But is it?

Maybe. Probably alot of it. But we are more than our biology. We are more than our nature. We are also a product of our environment. How we are raised. Who we spend our time with. What happens to us along the way. Most of all, how we respond to all of that shit. All of that matters. Doesn’t it?

Sometimes I feel I can do anything because I must do something and doing nothing is not an option. In the fog of this brand of crisis living, the weight of impending disaster looms large and tends to speed all things up. Thoughts are condensed. Vision shrinks. Therefore, the “anything” I choose is often arbitrary. A product derived from my mental disposition in the moment (because that’s where I am) and the time it takes the sky to fall (because that’s what I’m afraid of). These aren’t meaningful, mindful choices. They are spasms of a dying ego that hasn’t yet realized the gig is up. Aren’t they?