I'm inching along the narrow ledge, staring down into the abyss. My back is against the unforgiving rock wall. There are no handholds to grasp, no way to get purchase. One misstep and I will plunge into what looks like oblivion, for I can't see the bottom. So I continue along, thinking there must surely be a way out at the end. Unbeknownst to me, the ledge will drop off sharply as I round the last curve. I'm going down, though I don't know it yet. I'm exerting all my energy to work my way along that ledge.
Fool! - me and every other fool who walked the ledge before me and who will attempt it after me. There is no way out of this except to go down into that hole of hell. All that time and energy expended inching along, when I could have been trying to figure out a way to remain mostly intact on impact, or at least make a graceful descent -- complete with a flying forward one and a half somersault and finishing with a half twist, or, at the VERY least, leave a beautiful corpse.
Is resistance futile? Or is resistance the only thing that separates us from sheep? Are we marching like lemmings for the edge? Are we fools for fighting -- or fools for giving in? This, oh THIS is the question of the hour, my friends. Where is the honor in going gently into that good night? And at what point do we become ridiculous?
It’s a narrow ledge I’m stepping on here. The line is thinner that you might think between polyester and tie-dye, my friends.
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wait a minute, wait a minute.... is this plunge you are talking about the FINAL plunge or is the "hole of hell" just the land of the middle-aged? Are you saying you are now on the last inches of the ledge of youth (or the ledge of not-oldth)? We are all on tightropes down here is this groovy land of never-say-never, so get ready, sister. : )
ReplyDeletei did worry that if i said "leave a beautiful corpse" it would be misconstrued. i would say the hole of hell is my perception of falling into middle age, fo sho.
ReplyDeleteI love this. Every word you say is true. And these are the questions we have been tortured with. I find that I am compelled to inch along that ledge, and cling to it tightly, even though, I KNOW the drop-off is coming. I have to apply a depilatory every week to remove facial hair. What's going to happen when I can't keep up this routine? Who is going to clip my nose hairs when I become too feeble to lift my arms? These questions haunt me. If it is inevitable that I am going to turn into a hairy old bag, why go to the trouble of fighting it now? I could be spending that time reading great books and expanding my mind. But instead I waste precious minutes on maintenance that will just have to be repeated over and over, until I can't do it anymore. Yet still to the ledge I cling.
ReplyDeleteyou remove facial hair every WEEK? whoa mama
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