Random Thoughts from a Restless Mind

Dr. Darrell White's Personal Blog

Cape Cod

Sunday musings 10/6/13

Sunday musings…

1) Beauty. Marty Ceh. Whoa.

2) HSPU. That awkward moment in a HSPU where your own perspiration drips “up” into your nose. (Laura DeMarco Nielson).

Yah…you know what I mean.

3) Inscrutable. His face was a mask so tightly marshaled, so inscrutable that even his pupils were under control.

4) Chaos. The world seems rather out of control on the front page of the Sunday papers. Our own land of “constantly varied” seems downright buttoned up and predictable in comparison. Not so much the programming of course, but more the notion that there’s something here, something in CrossFitters that is dependable. Stable. Elsewhere? Not so much.

We read of upheavals writ large and small, and we read of the men and women behind them. Pundits left and right ascribe various meanings and variable degrees of provenance to the outcomes of whatever machinations came before, but I wonder. Are the wizards behind the curtains really in control? Have they a firm grip on the leashes that tether the hounds they’ve loosed on us all? Or rather have they fallen prey to hubris, and in their venality simply released the uncontrollable.

Are we witnessing chaos?

Perhaps my own view of this is colored by the chaos in my tiny little part of the planet. You know, a kind of “chaos bias” maybe. When all of the various and sundry little things start to fly around in your own personal space like so many molecules in a vacuum it starts to seem like the whole world has suddenly succumbed and everything is more Brownian motion than buttoned up strategy.

I used to thrive on what other people saw as chaos. The more plates I had spinning, the more balls in the air, the more complete I felt. Moving through tasks by the bushel, handling issues by the peck, I was most alive in the midst of what others described as chaos. Now? Not so much.

Why might that be? Is it simply because I am older? When I was a younger man there never seemed to be a sense that I would run out of time. Are the balls in air qualitatively different, heavier than they once were? It’s still just 2.5# , but the psychological gravity exerted on each additional plate sure seems to be greater. Is it actually the feeling that the world around me is more chaotic and therefore it really IS more difficult to rein in the chaos in my orbit? You know, as if I’ve lost the ability to filter out the chaos of others from that which is mine.

It’s a feeling. Nothing more than a feeling. It will likely pass as one or two things fall off a spinning plate, or a couple of juggled balls are removed from the show. It’s funny, what used to come naturally is now a purposeful act. I now find myself looking at the chaos as if it’s some massive chipper–life’s Filthy Fifty maybe–and I apply the lessons learned each time I head to the gym. One rep at a time. Finish each rep. I have more in me, more to give, than I think I do. Never, NEVER walk away from the bar.

I got this.

I’ll see you next week…

Posted by bingo at October 6, 2013 6:08 AM

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