I did not mean to forget - and who could? - Bill Hicks. Remember: it's just a ride.
Sometimes I forget. It happens. This is what I forget: I am responsible only for what I do. I am in control only of what I do. My perceptions and understandings belong only to me; no one else can have them because no one else can have the perspective from which they were viewed, the context in which they were created. I am no more or less unique than you. We are built that way, each similar but each perfectly unique.
And that is both very cool and utterly amazing. "Here's Tom with the weather."
It's just a ride.
Sometimes I get sucked in, by context or circumstance, hope or desire; drawn into the belief that any of it matters. It does not matter that I put words in sequence; it does not matter that they are read, enjoyed, disdained, misunderstood, misinterpreted, understood, re-interpreted, marked up, marked down, starred thusly or thatly, sold, stolen, given, received, read or discarded. They are words on an electron and nothing more; as transient and ephemeral as your or I or those who we have loved or not had the chance to love and are now gone. Life is what it is; it isn't some other thing.
It's just a ride.
We are made of earth and dead stars, and if that understanding is seen as a curse or a blessing is no less or more our choice individually than any other choice of perception or understanding that we make. That. We. make.
It's just a ride.
I've been rich and I've been poor and I would love to say that rich is better. But the truth is that the deepest and most profound settlements with existence have come to me when I had nothing, and I don't mean less than nothing because to be able to sustain less than nothing means there is a chance of having something again and that is known. Having nothing is the worst - and yet when I had nothing I found the most profound and deepest contact with Life. Having nothing will give you gifts you can't imagine if you are unlucky enough never to have experienced it. Joy of a breath sucked into your lungs, a scent on a breeze, a memory of a loved one perceived in a new context, knowing that the tree you touch is as alive as you and exactly as meaningful in it's existence - not more or less, but kin, and if you are lucky enough to feel the acknowledgement of that kinship in that moment then there is no greater gift or understanding to be had.
It's just a ride.
Of course the rebuttal to the 'it's just a ride' philosophy is clear to those who have seen or experienced how deeply ugly life can be. I have, but have no wish here to trade scars; there are always worse scars to see. I've heard someone say to me 'of course it's easy for you' and looked askance at another and thought the same. I know how it is. I've heard stories that made my toes curl and my soul wither; made me roll down my sleeves to hide my scars as being neither deep nor wide enough to count for anything. I've seen a life cut short, looked into the personal hell of a friends eyes and counted my own pain as nothing in comparison. Context is everything.
It's Just A Ride
Objective, subjective, and personal truths come and go, wax and wane, neap and the other thing. And sometimes you catch yourself giving a damn about something so deeply trivial that it shames the hell out of you if you notice. So. I noticed. For a second there, or maybe longer than a second and I'm just being generous to myself, I gave a damn about something that means nothing. I spent the precious, finite moments of my life considering trivia as though it mattered in any way shape or form to anything that ever lived or will live. Well, it's okay now. I remembered. It's life, and only that. It comes unbidden and goes unwelcome, means everything and nothing, and no single aspect of it is more worthy of attention than any other. I remembered:
It's just a ride.
