Becoming Bruce Banner

Anger is a vile thing.  When turned loose, it consumes everything in its path like an F4 tornado.  Controlling it is not an easy task.  And it spreads.  It spreads like a virus, spoiling everything and everyone who dares to approach.  Don’t get me wrong, I find great joy in the Black and the White . . . The Yin and the Yang.  I have stated this many times in the past, without a dark there can be no light.  Without anger, one cannot understand their happiness.  Still, those times when darkness descends upon my heart, I feel lost and need for escape.  There has been a dark cloud over our household for the better part of a week and this feeling of being lost at sea is starting to takes its toll on my withering soul.  I know there to be many factors at play, but it does not seem to lessen the sting I feel from the negativity that surrounds our family like a fog.  If I were to be completely honest, at this point in our journey, the joy from the peaks no longer quells my hatred for the valleys.  All I desire is to stay on top of the mountain and I know this to be a selfish wish.  In truth I know that there isn’t enough oxygen at that altitude to support us, but the view is a hell of a lot better than at the valley floor.  On occasion I think to myself that somewhere in between would be nice, but then I remember I hate the Mall.  Constant climate control and teaming masses of “satisfied” mall walkers make my skin crawl.  Stasis . . . death for the growing soul.  To be satisfied with middle ground is to admit defeat.

For now, I climb the mountain to enjoy the view, knowing it cannot last and living with the inevitability that I will once more be cast down to the valley below.  I know that the amount of time I can stay on the peak will never change.  It is fleeting at best and to linger too long will have even the best of us gasping for air.  The real challenge occurs on the valley floor.  How long it takes me to scramble to my feet and begin to climb again is the true measure of my growth.  I have realized that the climb itself is where life is lived.  This is the journey and where I am at my best.  Happier to climb than to rest at the top or regret at the bottom.  My wife recently pointed out that I am not as smart as I think I am and that I don’t have it all figured out.  Touche!  This much I already knew.  And still I climb.  I now climb with no intention of reaching the summit.  Knowing that this is not my goal, reaching the top seems to lack the importance of fighting and scratching my way upward.  Just as remaining in the valley is an unhealthy act, so too is obsessing over an eventual summit.  And so I climb, making the journey my aim.  It is that forward progression through good weather and bad that makes life worth living.  She is right . . . my wife I mean.  I know I don’t have it all figured out, which is why I climb.  It is why my passion stays with the journey.  Pushing into the storm when others run for cover.  Is that wisdom or foolish bravado?  Time will tell.  The one thing I feel certain of in my life is that I am meant to climb and not meant to watch life unfold from the bottom, the top, or the safety in between.  I am not meant to cower by a warm fire while the storm rages outside my door.  My death will come when I decide to sit behind the picture window and watch as other travelers pass me by, afraid to continue my journey because of the storm.

And so, like the completion of an elaborate jigsaw puzzle, I am trying to understand the big picture.  I think perhaps I have completed the top and bottom boarder.  I understand them and know where they reside.  Perhaps now that they are complete, I can begin filling the void in between.  It would seem that I have ample time to create this picture as the prolonged forecast of light to moderate rain has me all but homebound.  Perhaps in a week’s time, our collective outlook will have changed and the clouds will clear from our mood as well as our skies.  For now I will be content with my station on this leg of our journey, knowing that change is inevitably around the corner.  I shall sign off for now before my philosophy leads into depression and anger . . . You won’t like me when I’m angry.  R.