The Magical Train of Enthusiasm

  Oh how I use to ride that train of enthusiasm.  I’d pull the window down and lean out as far as I could in order to feel that wind blowing in my face; to the point where my hair would hurt at the roots; and tears from clenched eyes would fill my ears.  I couldn’t get enough of it.  Of course that’s imagery, but as the thrill of life opened its windows of opportunity to me I’d dash to get through it before being slammed shut.  I had my share of shattered dreams and disappointments enough to carpet any banquet hall, so the older I got the more cunning I figured I needed to become to avoid the same results.  I had more than an appetite for good fortune, I was famished for it.  In my youth I had no vision for the circumspect of life events.  I was in the moment; like a favorite pet is for any adventure.  Be it to the beach or the vet, the thrill of being included was adequate enough to wind me up with excitement.  As the years collected I began to connect the chain of disappointments as something beyond personal selection; yet intuitively I felt they also were. That notion demanded I question any flippant dismissal as to negative outcome being nobody’s fault.  I distilled truth enough, I was no victim to a sadistic-cynical universe prowling for innocent hearts to crush. Just as much as I figured out most of my foolishness could be attributed to failed access to reasoning recesses of an undeveloped frontal cortex.  I was, for all intents and purposes, a late bloomer.  I can laugh at that behavior now, because I’ve adequate experience to compare impulsive choices to well thought-out plans.  For instance, just recently, the idea of Humanistic psychology reminded me of some of its features I learned earlier which appealed to my ethos for life in general; unconditional positive regard; empathy in accordance with genuineness, these were attractive to the way I would like to be dealt with; with how I’d like to connect with others.  Yes, that was the path to connection with a purpose; investigation into the topic led me to reconsider.  True as the tenants are to what I consider respectful intercourse with other human beings, too much of a good thing is just…well…goofy.

  I can apply this to past conversations and the example of astrology.  Oh yes, I am familiar enough with it to toy with certain signs possessing like kind dispositions;  as a Capricorn, I’ve discovered most other Capricorns I know of, tend to also not let go of something easily.  Is that unique to the sign? Maybe not, there’s adequate scientific research to suggest we find what we seek, so yeah I can convince myself all Capricorn’s are prone to specific traits just as any other zodiac sign; what of it?  The point of it being, there are some who refuse to enter into contracts when Mars is in retrograde.  And not just garden variety-next-door-hippy-types, but captains of industry forestalling contract negotiations until after that period of passage; call it superstition, it shows up in all quarters of society.  Sure, some people get a kick out of reading their horoscope in the daily paper; most find it amusing and think little of it until the prophetic ‘bad day’ manifest itself; then there is a hind-sightedness in admitting, “gosh, my horoscope said I was going to have a bad day.”  I shrug at the notion, but I use it as a vehicle to bring this up.  It’s fun and all but that doesn’t mean I plan my life around it.  Nor would I wish to be cornered at a party with someone who was a true believer.  Who abandoned all reason to the soothe-saying power of the stars; it just creeps me out.  And my research into the humanistic-existential-transpersonal psychology did the same thing…a feeling as if I would be signing up for a steady diet of overly-sweet-sentiments.  Sure, therapist should be compassionate, genuine, caring and nonjudgmental.  But do we expect them to sob with us? Anguish over our disappointments and hurts? No, that’s what our friends are for, or our bartenders.  Anyway, once it dawned on me that I really didn’t want to be emerged in the ideals from the tip of my head to the ends of my toes I had a very odd subjective flip-flop of feelings.  One was a self congratulations for not running full bore into a notion without further research; the second was a degree of disappointment, kind of like the image didn’t live up to a fairytale assignment I gave it right out of the gate of notion.  It took a couple of days to reconcile those feelings, then admit incorporation was the key to quality I would embrace.  Other scientifically proven methods could serve me just as well.  Yes, I can appreciate both worlds without having to give allegiance to either/or.  I somehow found my way though the brambles of habitual self inflicted wounding…I didn’t expect it…but I’m glad it happened the way it did; I believe that’s called serendipity…how delicious.