Control, or Lack Thereof

One interesting side-effect, if you will, about going through the grieving process and interacting with others who have been through something similar is how absolutely tragic most people’s lives are. I mean, there are thousands of people who have experienced such fucked up bad luck that its amazing that they haven’t jumped off a bridge. I mean, if anyone is a candidate for that it’s me, but I don’t hold a candle to some of these people; entire families killed in car accidents except for one parent, that sort of thing. What is even more amazing is how everyone else thinks they’re somehow immune from it. We run around thinking how we control our lives and really any sense of control we have is completely illusory. We can perhaps control the little things, what sort of toothpaste we buy or what flavor of muffin we choose in the morning, but the big shit, the really big shit, is so beyond our ability to influence that to cede the point is almost incomprehensible. We expect to be able to mange our world; it’s our legacy as Americans for heaven's sake. It’s our birthright as New Yorkers. Despite my apparent laid back hippie persona (ahem), I actually have a bit of the control freak in me and the fact that this was something I couldn’t predict, manage or fix is making me a little crazy. The last time I felt this way was on 9/11 when I was running away from Tower 2. Remember my friends, life is not something we can put into little boxes and the Gods laugh at our plans.