I have a friend who always laughs things off. Doesn't matter what kinds of things it is, invariably he laughs at them loudly. Sometimes, he laughs at them so loudly, I think he's trying to show those things that he's more powerful than them. Maybe he is.
But here's the thing about indulging in one point of view, one philosophy, or one knee-jerk reaction: eventually, most of us say the same thing, "That's just the way it is" or my all time least -favorite, "There's nothing I can do about it" and when we get to that point, what have we learned? We've learned what works, what suffices, what fits the bill. And we stick to it because it's familiar, and at least we think we know, and that comforts us.
I'm just as guilty as my friend who laughs at everything, though, because I tend to treat everything as a problem. And most things in my life aren't problems. I'm a spoiled perfectionist, believing that I can make life perfect, and rather than seeing where I am now, I see where I am 10, 15, and 20 years from now. It sort of makes enjoying life difficult. But I don't laugh it off. I don't laugh at things that make me angry, and I don't try to make jokes out of things that make me sad. I try to feel all of those things because there was a time I felt nothing at all, and those were the times I was most unhappy. So, although I don't have a single treatment, like laughter, for anything that comes my way unexpectedly, I do tend to rely on my critical crutch; leaning like a cripple on a rickety stick. The stick is my judgement, and sometimes it's so rickety and I lean so heavily on it, I don't trust it. My rational judgement, that is. I think because I was cut off from my own emotions for so long, I hesitate to use them as a guide. It's something I'm working on.
This is all vine-like, ambling around the point like the tendril-grasping greenery; the point is I quit my jobs for reasons I can't fully explain or understand. The level at which it was making me unhappy was beyond rationale, laughter, joking, or fixing.
But the thing that really scares me is that I'm seeing a pattern of cut-and-run in my life. Not because things are too difficult. I don't know why. But I have an easier time finding something new, than living with something old. And I fear that my cut-and-run approach is going to effect the people in my life that love me. Because I'm happier on the run and people want what's familiar, and they want it to stick around; they want comfort and I give that to them, but rarely is the feeling of comfort mutual.
So, my dilemma now is sitting tight or wandering into the wild.
I don't want to be kept, but then again, I don't want to be alone. And my relationship now always keeps me in the limbo position. I'm alone and kept for half the time, and the other half I'm free with a companion.
So, do I keep with what's familiar because it's good for another person, and I think it's good for me? Or should I just cut the lines and run away like I always do?
I feel like I should change my ways and not become the person who just wanders with abandon. I should try a new philosophy, and new way of life, and maybe figure out why this familiarity thing is so popular.
Maybe I could try laughing more.
Alone, ennui, ridiculous me.
