Treadmill

I have a set pattern of blogs that I rotate through. Some are intellectually edifying and some are entertaining. Some are very instructive.

Without naming names, there is one blog I had been reading because it sounded so much like me in my early twenties. The poor guy was going through hell and writing about it on his blog. Then this summer he stopped. He said he just needed some time to get his life together. Then, sort of out boredom I came across his blog again, and he'd started writing about a week ago. And it's the same crap. The. Same. Crap. Nothing has changed for this poor guy and he's going to continue on this treadmill for at least another decade.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we get into a loop of drama? Sometimes I think I'm lucky. I know what my loop is. Everything is about me. Every word, every action, every thought that every single person within my sphere of influence -- and that is vast -- has nothing better to do than to think up ways to slight and insult me. The world is full of people who hold secret conventions to discuss every little fault of mine. They are endlessly fascinated with all things that are me.

When that loop starts, there are times it can be brutal and destructive. And looking at past situations I can see there have been times that I have started the loop. There have been other times that random events have happened -- events that have had nothing to do with me -- yet fit very nicely into the loop and I allow myself to use those events as objective proof of my narcissistic, self-destructive little psychodramas.

It's sad, really.

But, lately I'm getting better at identifying the little dramas. Sometimes I can stop them, and sometimes I just have to let them run their course. Sometimes they're harmless and entertaining, but I have learned not to take any of them all that seriously.

Back when New Age was all the rage, I read a Buddhist philosophy that said something like, "Hold life lightly." It's taken me years to understand that, and sometimes I actually think I manage to do just that.

But my poor little blogger has not yet learned that lesson. I'll probably check in on him from time to time, just to make sure he doesn't chew his leg off to free himself from his treadmill, but I can't watch it on a regular basis. There's only room for one diva on this stage.