I have been hit hard by a tragic death--that of my son's business partner and intimate friend since high school. Car crash. Young, two little ones, wife. I'm sure you know the story.
I have been thrown into a place of too much perspective.
Looking at the long run and history and the tiny impact of the individual life.
Feeling futile.
And then freed by futility to let go of stuff I don't care about.
As in who gives a ---- (choose your preferred word)
I don't have to do anything because nothing matters.
Gets you to the simple place of only the essence.
One of mine is writing. I want to write even when I feel futile.
Another is reading. I want to read (about futility) even when I feel futile.
I want to hear from my kids even when I feel futile
I want to sit still until something moves me. If not, let me be. Who cares?
So there you have it. The utility of futility.
A clarifier.
My humor is coming back so healing starts. You know what popped me back into play. I found the lost key to my office. Bingo. Hope is back.
I mean really. Perspective shifts from such tiny impetus. Not ready for action.
But a glimpse of something good happening begins the turn around.
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