{"id":25272,"date":"2022-03-11T14:33:38","date_gmt":"2022-03-11T19:33:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=25272"},"modified":"2022-03-11T14:34:23","modified_gmt":"2022-03-11T19:34:23","slug":"trapped-wriggling-pinned-like-an-insect-to-a-board","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2022\/03\/trapped-wriggling-pinned-like-an-insect-to-a-board\/","title":{"rendered":"Trapped, Wriggling, Pinned (Like an Insect) to a Board…"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n

[Image: “impossible decisions<\/a>,” by a Flickr user who identifies themselves as “danna \u00a7 curious tangles.” (Used here under a Creative Commons license — thank you for that option!)]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This week, whiskey river<\/a><\/em> offered us some road-trip advice — in which the road trip in question is not literally a road trip, although the metaphor sure works in this case. The river<\/em> gave us just the one italicized stanza, but the whole thing feels relevant:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before We Leave<\/strong><\/p>

Just so it’s clear—
no whining on the journey.
If you whine, you’ll get stuck
somewhere with people
like yourself. It\u2019s an unwritten law.
Wear hiking boots. Pack food
and a change of clothes.
We go slowly. Endurance won’t
be enough, though without it
you can’t get to the place
where more of you is asked.
Expect there will be times
when you’ll be afraid.
Hold hands and tremble together
if you must but remember
each of you is alone.<\/p>

Where are we going?
It\u2019s not an issue of here or there.
And if you ever feel you can’t
take another step imagine
how you might feel to arrive,
if not wiser, a little more aware
how to inhabit the middle ground
between misery and joy.
Trudge on. In the higher regions,
where the footing is unsure,
to trudge is to survive. <\/em><\/p>

Happiness is another journey,
almost over before it starts,
guaranteed to disappoint.
If you’ve come for it, say so,
you’ll get your money back.
I hope you all realize that anytime
is a fine time to laugh. Fake it,
however, and false laughter
will accompany you like a cowbell
for the rest of your days.
You’ll forever lack the seriousness
of a clown. At some point
the rocks will be jagged,
the precipice sheer. That won’t be
the abyss you’ll see looking down.
The abyss, you’ll discover
(if you’ve made it this far),
is usually nearer than that—
at the bottom of something
you’ve yet to resolve,
or posing as your confidante.
Follow me. Don’t follow me. I will
say such things, and mean both.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Stephen Dunn [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We’re at a point now (still in the Las Vegas area) at which our own road trip has been at a standstill for three months. We so<\/em> needed a break from the three-nights-here-five-nights-there-a-single-night-at-the-other-place pace, y’know? Just finally being able to empty the car of all luggage and travel bags — instead of selecting the one bag or two to tide us over to the next stop — well, it felt like a heavenly indulgence. And we could have done a lot worse than to stay with The Stepson!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…But now, of course and maybe inevitably, we’re hemmed in by the pinch of various realities: the end of the wintertime snuggle-in evenings; a dwindling reservoir of cash set aside for the trip; an ongoing pandemic (despite the kinda unconvincing official reassurances, which feel to me more like a series of exhausted collective “Oh, the hell with it!” pronouncements); inflation and war; the fact of not yet knowing where we’ll even live<\/em> when the trip is “done”… We daily fight the good fight of not turning on each other simply as a substitute for not being able to fight all the large-scale battles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This feels like a good time to open up the little book of, well, let’s call them homilies for lack of a better word: the little book we used to refer to here at least once a month for many years, but haven’t since August. Therein, on a well-thumbed page we find a fable of sorts:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#90: <\/strong>On foot, dog-tired, the man approached a busy intersection. He’d never been there before, but as he drew nearer he’d been eyeing it, seemingly larger and busier, with every step: cars, buses, motorcycles, trucks and delivery vans, even bicycle lane, a river of vehicles — any one of which could kill him, and all of which together would certainly obliterate him completely…<\/p>

Now he was here at the corner. <\/p>

Now he could see, as he could not from farther away, that the intersection was well marked with traffic signals (not, alas, with “Pedestrian Crossing” ones). This might have given him courage, given him simple hope<\/em>. Except… except that the traffic never let up, not in any of the four directions, no matter the signals’ red-yellow-green status. Somehow, all the wheeled menaces were managing to thread through the gaps in oncoming and cross-traffic, without stopping or even slowing down.<\/p>

The man could not understand this. In an infinite universe<\/em>, he had often told himself, all things must be possible<\/em>. But surely that didn’t apply to a system as chaotically random as this, driven as it was not merely by physical forces, quantum mechanics, the unpredictable quirky cross-purposed nature of human mood and decision-making…<\/p>

Then it occurred to him that, well, he too was an animate object. In an infinite universe<\/em>, he thought… and so he swallowed once, and stepped off the curb.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(JES, Maxims for Nostalgists<\/em>)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

______<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Note:<\/strong> I am very much aware how lucky I am — we are — to be able to whinge about such dilemmas, vs. the truly excruciating, life-threatening, and\/or literally maddening ones pounding at the doors of people around the world right now. See Stephen Dunn’s first stanza, above.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Image: “impossible decisions,” by a Flickr user who identifies themselves as “danna \u00a7 curious tangles.” (Used here under a Creative Commons license — thank you for that option!)] This week, whiskey river offered us some road-trip advice — in which the road trip in question is not literally a road trip, although the metaphor sure […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Stephen Dunn and a Maxim for Nostalgists: 'Trapped, Wriggling, Pinned (Like an Insect) to a Board...'","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[183,5433,4949,247,1393,250,251,4159],"tags":[179,939,3285,5520,5521,5522,5523],"class_list":{"0":"post-25272","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-everyday-life","7":"category-road-trip-2021","8":"category-retirement","9":"category-ruminations","10":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","11":"category-art","12":"category-poetry-writing_cat","13":"category-essays","14":"tag-stephen-dunn","15":"tag-decisions","16":"tag-maxims-for-nostalgists","17":"tag-indecisions","18":"tag-pandemic","19":"tag-just-getting-through-the-days","20":"tag-advice-to-myself","21":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-6zC","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25272","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=25272"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25272\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25287,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25272\/revisions\/25287"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=25272"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=25272"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=25272"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}