July Hibernation

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Many years ago, when I was young and unemployed, I occasionally went to the only all-night bar in the city where I lived. I liked it because I’d invariably meet some sad middle-aged bloke going through a divorce or some other form of mid-life crisis who’d buy me drinks all night long just to have someone to talk to. In hindsight it’s rather shallow and both sides of the equation are pretty sad, but at the time it seemed a win/win situation for all concerned, so I did it. And what struck me at the time was that despite the shallowness of it all, it still made me feel rather special. All I did was listen and drink beer… but it made two lonely guys feel good.

Now fast forward. A few years ago, a young man known to me shot himself in front of his class at the local high school. Later, I heard another young man speak at my local church about that situation. He’d been called in to help counsel the kids who had witnessed the suicide. This guy who was called in to help was petrified; had no qualifications or experience (who does?) and didn’t know what to do in that situation, but the authorities were desperate for local people who could relate to the kids so he went. And not knowing what to do, he just listened, and let the kids pour out what was on their minds and in their hearts. Later he was praised to the max for being an effective counselor “who related to the kids and actually helped them”. A clearly more dramatic, but not dissimilar experience to my own in the pub at 3 a.m. so many years before, listening to blokes talk about their problems. And so again I learned the value of talking, and listening, and when to do one or the other. And so now, after all that, I guess all I’m doing is the one, and not the other. So, thanks for listening… and keep running; it’s still the answer. And if you ever figure out the question, please post it here on RC.


Freed from desire, you can see the hidden mystery.
By having desire, you can only see what is visibly real.

- Tao Te Ching (500 BC)