A noble crusade can keep you from your real needs and tasks — indefinitely.
I had doctors’ appointments scheduled for November 27 and November 29, but a week or two prior decided to cancel them and reschedule for the last week in December.
Wednesday, November 22, after I’d put off this task for some time, at mid-afternoon it finally came onto my front burner; and I sat, phone in hand and tablet at hand, and suddenly became terrified.
Feelings aren’t rational.
I don’t know what about this task terrified me, but I went outside to smoke and collect myself — or not. I just wanted to get away from that task.
Escaping what I needed to do, my mind and heart went straight to wrestling with abstractions. Specifically, among other things, I puzzled over whether all the horrible things Munroe Bergdorf says of white people are in fact part of her “lived experience.” Many issues become available.
Somewhere in there, I could easily have come across some noble cause to feel passionate about, into which to pour all my emotional energies, with baiting prospects of struggle and pride and accomplishment — the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat — the mandate for justice, for self-importance, for glory — David and Goliath, Don Quixote and his “giants” — to preoccupy me, God knows for how long.
It’s happened before. I’ve been distracted this way for weeks, for months, having made such a choice in a moment no more momentous than this.
In the event, I finished the smoke, went back inside, and made the phone calls. This time, I did the necessary. I haven’t always done so.
Related: Ulterior motives are funny