grace

I said, a little time ago, that freedom is the choice among breeds of suffering. That may be true—I got some agreement from an opinion I respect.

But sometimes freedom is overridden by grace. Have you noticed that?

I want something right now, something I think I could manage very well. I know it will be work but I’m willing to do that work. But I don’t get it, regardless of how hard I try to obtain it. I’m pretty good at getting what I want, so this evasion bothers me. I kick and make faces. I still don’t get it.

Time passes, and I still want it. But somehow—through events or sometimes through epiphany—I realize that I didn’t really know what I was bargaining for. If I had got what I wanted, when I wanted it, it would have crushed me. I thought then that I was strong enough to manage it, to take good care of it, and now I see that I wasn’t. And apparently, I still am not.

I still want it. But it’s no good having something that won’t fit in your house.

I like the Jaguar F-type series, but I really only need something to get me around town.
I like Chanel dresses, but nobody’s asking me to balls or premiers these days.

Having nice things is great, but you have to take care of them, and they take up space.

Sometimes we’re not smart enough to choose our own suffering. So it gets chosen for us. Thank God, if you can.

(first published on 7.7.07, 3.18pm)