I decided to bring my head along today. There are days I don’t. Just a corpse with a missing top. Those days I float. I float along like all is well and good. I have no head so there’s no reason to think. There’s no reason to worry. There’s no reason for anything.
Unfortunately today I did bring it. I wish I hadn’t. See there is bliss in ignorance. There is something to be said for nothing. And if there’s no reason for anything on those days without, the real irony is there is no reason on these days as well. When my head is on and I steal a glance into the life I live and those around me, I have to question. Purpose is the pursuit. A fleeting glimpse at best most days. Frustration goes with the territory. To think requires you to recognize. It needs you to cognetize. I know that’s not a word. Because I have my head.
Questions come easy when you have no head. There’s no answer. And no care. It’s odd that the pain in your heart is gone when your head is gone. The aching, longing sits and then takes a hike when the brain detaches. Funny how you ache in your chest for people but only if the brain is engaged.
The problem is that we don’t really have those detachable heads. So we can’t turn it off whenever we like. And the harder the problem, or the question, the less likely we are able to turn it off. We are wired for pain. The fact we feel it is not a bad thing.
Sometimes those pains just never seem to go away. They linger, they poke, they prod and they annoy. Sometimes, for some of us, sadness becomes a way of life. The constant repetition drills a well worn road into your brain. And when anything happens, from dropping your corn flakes to a well loved dog dying, the reaction becomes the same. Why me? Why is life so hard? Why is God doing this to me? Why won’t God help me?
I don’t live this though I have my days. I have watched it for years. It isn’t pretty or nice or even okay. It just is. Nothing I can do about that. Head on, head off, head on, head off. Bad movie reference. I guess the bottom line is that I prefer my head on no matter how much it hurts. Because a moment’s joy can often erase a year’s pain. And I guess that’s the point. If my head is off, I would miss that. I do manage to detach now and again but it never lasts. Nor do I want it to. I don’t want to miss that moment. And if the road is difficult to it, who am I to argue or complain? I just keep breathing, keep my eyes on the road ahead, take the day as it comes and keep praying for a moment, with my head firmly in place.