It is the course of difficulty that I walk. I lean into the rain and the wind. Pushing, gritting teeth, grabbing for holds in the landscape, and I am happy to do it. I understand what is at stake. Even though I am not playing at the table I stand at, I know the dealer plays a psychological game with me. My ability to opt out of his gravity has limitations.
The fact that I am still allowed to make choices despite the pull is where the definition of true love lies. The defining line, beyond which the pain and broken dreams dissipate without substance, is a mere watery mist that, within seconds, cannot be seen.
In the realm of physics, nothing changes. That absolute antagonist bears down even harder, pressuring, depriving freedom of movement and even thought. But then, that is just brought to nothing. How can one ever define this? Do we really need to?
Someone very dear to me asked a rhetorical question the other day: What have we learned from this human drama? There is more answer to this than anyone knows. The decisions made as a parent have far-reaching benefits or perhaps consequences. Indeed, we must choose carefully. There comes a time when our comfort and contentment are not necessary. We have a duty. It is a matter of respect and honor.
"All of this human drama, have we learned anything?" Yes. The answer is simple, but it must be complete. We are a fickle people. We tear apart anything that even has the slightest imperfection. It is the black speck of debris on the pure white snow. It is the tiny crack in the tile seam of the shuttle Columbia. Like the physical law itself, that is who we are. When the answer comes, we have to see it for ourselves. We have to know that there are no other options. The ultimate dead end, and ultimately honest answers to the questions.
The disintegration of the gun, all of which pierces us today, ultimately comes to nothing. It is an undeniable testimony to assure our hearts that we did all we could; we truly have learned who we are and where we need to go.
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