It’s been a while, I realize this.
The three readers I have who I know in real life keep asking when I’m going to write again and though there are words in this post, they don’t count. They’re a start — a way to get myself back onto this blog on a regular basis because lord knows I could really use an outlet for all the fucks I want to use and can’t in my every day, thanks to corporate censors and a parroting potty-mouthed toddler. But this post isn’t going to amount to much because it’s a spot of navel-gazing and if there’s anything I hate worse than people who take themselves too seriously, it’s reading blogposts by those assholes.
It’s been a rough couple of months.
I won’t go into detail here because life is on the upswing again and I don’t want to dwell on the negative, but life sometimes is just all sorts of ugh. And the biggest lesson I can take from all this ugh is that perspective is everything. Everything.
I have a pretty nice life. If I were religious, I might say I’m blessed but that’s just bullshit. I had a lot of advantages in my life by being born blonde-haired and blue-eyed in the wealthiest country in the world (at the time) and maybe some deity played a role in that, but I worked my ass off, too. At no time have I worked my ass off more than these last two years and so I have to appreciate that even when life isn’t easy, it’s still pretty good. That doesn’t stop it from sucking sometimes, but you can’t let the suckiness drag you down — hence the need for perspective. I’m nowhere near where I want to be in life, but I am a million times removed from where I thought I’d be when I turned 36, so … perspective. I can focus on what’s not working or focus on what has gone right.
So what do you do to get that perspective?
For me, that perspective came (back) after a four-day weekend in Copenhagen. Cuddled up next to this cozy fireplace with a ridiculously awesome couple, watching Californication and reading Kierkegaard and just generally taking a step back to see what in the fuck had been happening in my life that made it feel so horrible. And you know what?
It was just a feeling.
As Denmark’s most famous philosopher himself would say, “There is nothing everyone is so afraid of as being told how vastly much he is capable of. You are capable of – do you want to know? – you are capable of living in poverty; you are capable of standing almost any kind of maltreatment, abuse, etc. But you do not wish to know about it, isn’t that so? You would be furious with him who told you so, and only call that person your friend who bolsters you in saying: ‘No, this I cannot bear, this is beyond my strength, etc.”