chest pain

chest pain

i’m trying to figure out whether or not the pain in my chest is physical or emotional. i can’t say i have a lot of problems—the simple ones usually get sorted out before they sound collision warning on my radar. figuring out solutions to hard problems is more or less my profession.

that leaves in the queue the problems i can’t solve. monster gordian knots made of razorwire. and they’re never just mine. always two or more other people are tangled up in them, so by altering the situation for me, i’m altering it for them.

surface advice is one thing – i’ll hand out wisdom like pez, and not think anything of it. there are a lot of things i’ve thought through and reached solid conclusions on, and problems i’ve solved for myself – presenting others with the logic of the solution means they don’t have to climb out of these pits themselves. but i try never to go so far as tinker with their lives. i dispense words.

(now i’m imagining this greasy pez-dispenser with my shaggy bearded head on top, popping out these perfect little pills that look so perfect and taste like bile.)

so when i have to solve problems for myself that are tangled up in other people, i hesitate. if they’re not part of my crew, they can eat it—i don’t care. but for the people who mean something to me, people by whose vision i derive some of my own value, for these people i hesitate. i want permission, but i’d rather spend the time we have together enjoying each others’ company rather than bring up the bad.

so these jagged edges sit there in my mind, with little bits of wet meat hanging on them where i’ve been careless. they taunt me, but they’re things i can’t solve without a slide rule which can measure the mathematics of pain. other peoples’ pain. thank god i’m patient about the important things.

i don’t really have anything else, i had hoped by talking this through i’d get some new insight. maybe detangle one of these bits. perhaps another day.