Today, I stir with the uncomfortable feeling that I have awakened from this sleep and into this day before. I am relating to Bill Murray in Ground Hog’s Day. It’s funny because most of us shift from one day to the next in an unconscious awareness of the subtle changes that occur moment-to-moment. Yet, these subtle changes inevitably create the stories of our lives. History is created in the presence of both banality and unexpected drama.
Yet, today, I am painfully aware of the static inertia that has become a by-product of my life. I am no longer able to make the emotional, social, and professional connections that once created the unique and disparate fabrics of my life. I valued my diversity. I am no longer capable of participating in the events that give evidence to my identity. The weave holding together the patches of my life are unraveling.
At the same time that I am experiencing static inertia, the uncertainty of my life has increased exponentially. Since March of this year, I have been in the hospital a total of 32 days on six separate occasions. All but one hospitalization was planned. The planned hospitalization was scheduled for the purpose of repairing a brain aneurysm. I think these events qualify as unexpected dramas. Yet, somehow our brains learn to accept the otherwise unacceptable and unthinkable. This is a great example of neuroplasticity!
Juxtaposed, aligned as if by fate, I am struck by the fact that my life will never be the same. How can the two semantically and philosophically opposed ideas of inertia and change be symbiotically cooperating with one another? I feel like I am taking my favorite painting and whitewashing it to be recreated to another form. And, like all creations, the result is mysterious and unknown. I have to admit that I am curious. Not really excited. But, curious!
Maybe, I can think of myself as a composer. I am simply rewriting the music. I will keep the notes I am able to keep. I will invent new notes. And, ultimately I will alter the timing and count of the spaces between the notes. In the end, I will begin to recognize myself in the new notes, patterns and fabrics. I will begin to relate to the new music that plays like inspiration in the background of my life.
I have not answered the original question of how two oppositional ideas (change and static inertia) can exist for the purpose of creation. Maybe they only appear to be separate and opposed – foreign and aggressive. Maybe they are like colors that become more complicated and rich as they are blended. Maybe I am making purple out of red and blue.