Coal Fire Gone Out
It feels like I have a thousand times a thousand things I want to share, to talk about, to say, and yet, I sit here looking at my monitor. The monitor is not something that is really exciting. Sure, sure, I have other things I can be working on. They?re pushing some online classes for call reps, levels one and two, but I don?t feel any urgency to get those done in lieu of leaving here and not knowing what?s coming next, Utah, school, and stuff.
I did transfer some writing from my longhand scratch an scrawl to a word processor today. I?ve even thought about sitting here and doing something with the initial rewrite/expansive writing that needs to take place. The story is a bit far fetched, but I am hoping I am keeping the whole thing just plausible enough to be a little scary, for those who fear 1984 and similar books.
In the process of conversations I also used an Ayn Rand analogy in describing my life to someone. Basically, Atlas Shrugged is about the intelligent, working people of the world leaving the world behind and allowing society to crumble in upon itself. Writers, artisans, engineers, corporate executives, etc., everyone leaves and eventually the weight of the stupidity the world places on inane and unreal things causes everything to implode. Not plausible, but not far fetched either. Sooner or later the economy?s of the world, based off of social reform, will fall in on themselves.
Anyway, Ayn Rand, in Atlas Shrugged, describes an idiot train engineer who agrees to drive a coal steam locomotive up a mountain and through a long tunnel. Coal requires air and without proper air the fire will, eventually, die out and the train will stop. Now, apply that to my life. I am a coal train attempting to go into a tunnel that is not designed for coal trains and midway through the tunnel my fire is going to go out. What do I do? What does the engineer do?
In the story, the engineer doesn?t walk back to warn the other train and in the story a catastrophe takes place as a much larger and faster diesel train collides into the back of the coal train killing everyone and collapsing the tunnel.
Yet, the story is not my life. My life is more about what happens when the fire goes out and whether or not I am walking back to warn others, other trains, to slow down and stop. Do I walk back and warn others, do I protect the people around me, or do I merely sit in the engine and wait for some other train to come along and collide with me? Does disaster have to strike before the message gets across.
I don?t really assume my life is a train wreck. Admittedly, I was using the analogy as an object lesson for people to realize that I am moving across the country and not as a means for people to assume that my life is in ruins ? or will be in ruins. That would be irresponsible of me. However, somedays I do feel as though my life is like a train stuck in a tunnel and the most I can muster to do is walk back several miles to warn other trains of the impending danger ahead. Let me close my door and ignore the peals and pleadings of the people around me as I try to rekindle the fire in the engine.
The fire may not be easy to relight. It takes hours, at best, to get a good fire going in an old coal engine, but the fire can light and we can start the engine moving again. Sometimes this is about how I feel about my health. If my health isn?t all that well then I have to take care of that because physical well-being is directly related to emotional and spiritual well-being. They go hand-in-hand. If you are not physically well you cannot expect to, spiritually, be revived (writing this causes me to theorize on some other areas of my life, though those theories don?t belong here).
The point is that we all have struggles we need to go through. That?s a part of living and that?s a part of life. Our trains come to a stop and right now I feel as though mine is coming to a slow burn and eventually a stop. Those feelings are, more than not, related to my leaving New Hampshire. I?ve become more attached to the people and the place than I felt I would, or had. I?m leaving someplace that I sincerely like and people who sincerely like me. Everyone is sad ? or at least they are playing at sad for my benefit.
My fire seems to be burning low, but give me some time and a few days driving and everything will find itself right again. That?s the future. The intelligent and the workers, the real leaders, will disappear for a while and when everything implodes, slowly, they will return and help rebuild from the ashes. I can rebuild myself better than I was/am or can expect to be.