In the End
She decided it was time to make some changes in her life. Where to start? She decides to start this endeavor the same manner in which she starts most everything. It doesn’t occur to her that reliance on an old habit to make new changes may be counterproductive, but logic, reason, and general clarity of thought, are difficult for a drowning person to recognize and engage in.
Looking within oneself for an answer seems foreign for those that have relied on others to tell them what they want to hear for so long. Moving from one meaningless scene to the next on an escalator with a fistful of Pop Tarts. A convenient way to get from one point to another, but not very fulfilling and quite devoid of effort, forethought, substance and reflection.
Without an inkling of conscious thought, she reaches out to grasp what she’s been programed to believe will provide the answers she seeks. She reaches out to that which is always there, seldom more than an arm’s length away, never questioning, only answering. She enters, “How to make positive life changes?” and unfailingly answers are instantly provided. One should always be wary of instant answers to questions that have developed the need to be asked over a long period of time.
The output to the question she input offered up many directions in which she could possibly take her first steps towards the change she seeks. A compass that points in more than one direction isn’t a compass one should rely on for direction on such a journey, but it is the compass that she is accustomed to relying upon.
After a bit of swiping and scrolling, the whirling compass of external input suggests that physical activity is a good place to start when getting one’s life in order. It also suggests all the material goods one must have to conveniently, effectively, and most importantly, “stylishly” engage in one’s chosen brand of physical activity. Material goods that will announce to anyone within eye-shot who you appear to be, and what you are appearing to do to be who you appear to be.
Where would we be without such announcements? Forced to explain ourselves through actual actions, and possibly produce actual results? If actions and results don’t show up, the dog and pony show of appearances will entertain our crowd. People love dogs and ponies…until they step in their crap. So it goes.
Walking seemed to her to be a good place to start her steps towards change. It’s something that can easily be mistaken by “her crowd” as a method of simply moving herself between two points. This is important, as it allows her to quit trying without ever having appeared as if she was trying. An easy out, in the event that the way in gets to be more than she’s willing to give to herself.
The walking path looked pleasant. At one point, the path forked, and for a moment, she stood and looked a bit left and a bit right. A moment of contemplation was not a moment she was accustomed to, so she reflexively looked to her device to direct her left or right. To tell her which way people that like to be told “which way” should point themselves to properly experience what everyone else has deemed a proper experience.
A squirrel had been storing its winter supply of nuts in a hollow limb that overhung the fork in the path below. A hollow limb that was providing the shade she needed to see the screen perched in her hand. The squirrel warned her that he’d misjudged the nut mass the hollow limb could safely maintain, but her senses were occupied.
As she turned left, or possibly right, she most likely glimpsed the reflection of the falling branch on her screen as she snapped a selfie to post for the validation she had grown accustomed to seeking. Validation in the form of comments rife with the usual platitudes, or a simple “thumbs up” from the more banal. She successfully captured and posted the moment. The branch frozen in its free fall. The squirrel with its little paws covering its eyes, unable to bear witness to the tragedy unfolding below.
In the end, the “others” shared the link that reported the tragedy that had befell her…their “friend”…then they scrolled on…