Sunday, July 18, 2010

Sunday Morning....

Humans have the most curious ability to rearrange history deep within their minds. Accentuate this bit here, evaporate that piece there.... and soon enough all the good times stand out in the mind. The bad times.... the pain.... those things fade. This, perhaps, is a very good thing. Some wounds are best left un-poked.

This constant rebuilding of personal history allows us to move on with life, to survive and thrive despite the near mortal blows that common life can rain down upon us.

The downside... we can forget too much, and lose that oh-so-useful fear of what caused the pain and damage. We can long for what was good, and gloss over every knife twist, little and large.

Perspective is a wonderful thing, most especially if it's an honest perspective. It can serve the same purpose as selective memory, by displaying the good against the bad in it's entirety, and showing it as related to the whole of ones life. Perspective.... good, but not easy. Having as honest a memory as possible, while keeping the shoals of life in perspective.... that is best of all.

Today, I think I shall attend the military rifle match at our club. The last twenty minutes of slow fire, laying there baking in the sun, requires a total detachment from the world, ones history, and all other concerns. It's zen and the sights, breathing, and trigger control. In a way.... it's a respite that relieves thought, and allows perspective to gain control.

The term 'Recoil Therapy' has meaning.


Ted Amadeus said...

You're in your own, not-so-quiet place: Favorite semiauto pistol thundering away, spent cartridges accumulating in a beautiful, smoking brass pile at your side...And through the sights on the target before you, can clearly visualize the rectum who caused you such pain...
Yes, VERY therapeutic.

Beats hell out of all that "positive thinking" whistling through the graveyard for sure!

D.W. Drang said...

Dude, but nobody uses that old-skool hand-behind-the-back stance anymore... ;-)

Carteach0 said...

Dude, I AM old school! Consider me a museum piece, kept around to display old ways.