There's this thing, this life lesson I suppose you could call it, that I just can't get to stick in my brain for any length of time. Certainly not long enough to ever be useful.

I suppose that, were I to give this life lesson a semi-serious attempt at expression, it would go something like this:

Things are as they are. Things may change, either over time or instantly, but I have little control over the form those changes may take, or of their timing. Also, anytime I attempt to coerce a change, it usually makes things worse than they were before.

I get re-taught this lesson every now and then, and every single time it's like a huge shocking revelation to me. It's just so amazing to me that I have so little control over the things that are most important to me. I can only try to enjoy them while they last. And hope I don't fuck them up too badly.

I think things are good, then I get punched in the gut. I think things are progressing, and I get kicked in the nuts. I struggle to move beyond those events, and I finally start to feel better again, and I get slapped in the face. And I just keep taking it. I withstand it all, and I never fight back, and I pretend that I'm not reeling from the pain and the shock. I pretend that I'm not livid.

Things are as they are. I have no control. I am a willow in the wind. I must learn to love the wind, even though it may uproot me and send me tumbling into death.