Change and Insanity
I took Barry to the optometrist today. He broke his glasses yesterday when he fell down the stairs. He said he didn’t feel like he hurt himself, like anything was broken or bruised. The Huntington’s just keeps progressing.
I would probably get depressed except for the fact that the snow is finally melting. It has been a loooooooong time coming. It would be nice if it got warmer than 50 degrees, but, at the same time, melting all this snow at once would get very ugly very quickly.
Ever since my minor emotional breakdown Saturday evening, I feel like I’ve been connecting more dots than usual. An emotional wall takes up internal space. Nature abhors a vacuum, so things within have rushed up to meet what was on the other side. Every item I get rid of creates more space, literal and figurative. I’m a little nervous to get rid of more stuff because each object seems to represent a part of myself that I have lost contact with. The item gets donated or tossed and, bam, an entirely new layer is revealed. Becoming a minimalist would not appeal to most people because it looks like walking around emotionally naked.
I wonder if my mission of simplicity is spurring on the Huntington’s in some way. Maybe that is superstitious. As I make space for something new to arrive in my life, perhaps on some level Barry realizes that I am preparing for life without him. I do everything I can to keep his routine intact. Or perhaps, as I let go of objects, Barry is letting go of this earthly realm.
Every day, I become more convinced that, if you want something to change, you have to do something different. I believe in the recovery definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Any changes, no matter how small, seem to wake up the universe and make people take you seriously to a degree previously unheard of.
I am feeling prodded. It must be spiritual because nothing externally is changing very rapidly. Sometimes the external change is so slow it drives me crazy, but I feel the kind of inner prompting I have felt before: before going to business school, when I wanted to make friends with Tamara (and had no idea why), and when I started to want to get rid of things. I had been hunting for items for years and not being particularly bothered by it. So what? A few years ago, I started feeling crazy every time I had to look for something. Maybe it was when Barry got cancer. I don’t know. I only know that hunting and searching became fundamentally unacceptable to me. Why don’t I know how many of item X I have?
Since starting to get my life together, I have lost all patience with people that don’t take responsibility for how things turn out. A friend just lost a job because she could not keep up due to being out of shape. It was devastating to her but did not motivate her to get in better shape. Huh?
I want to help create a world that works better for more people and have come to the sad conclusion that many people simply cannot be worked with; they must be worked around. Their thinking processes are, frankly, what got us into many of the messes we are in now. They are unwilling to change, while the rest of languish under their dysfunctional paternalism. The world is changing rapidly. These folks stay true to the course that is creating environmental and social destruction. Waiting for them (or anything else, for that matter) to change is the definition of insanity. I waited my whole life for some situations to change. Now I am changing myself and my life. I have lost the approval of the powers that be, but have gained something so much more valuable—self-respect. I am determined to be part of the solution. Fighting the creators of our problems is pointless.