Stories are told and retold

A Game Played at a Maddening Pace

Stories are told of lovers and haters and how they are intertwined moving in and out of each others’ lives in a kind of gridlock highway, the folly of hide and seek, now you see me now you don’t, and the real amusement isn't in confusing, tricking or stumping the other, but in wondering who is really being fooled which is why all of this is nothing but a maddening game, because in the end, so it is believed, only the strong survive.

The game is played, taken up at birth, and there is always time on the clock for that final play, the desperation “Hail Mary” pass right up until death. Play begins with the cooing and crying of the newest born in the attempt to have each and every need met continuing through adolescence right into the high pressure stakes of adulthood. Within this framework are different levels of intensity and different levels of desires and needs to be met depending on such factors as age, social status, economic level, and most often one’s perceived position of importance or lack there of in life.

The players in the game are like chess pieces. Pawns, knights, bishops, rooks, the queen and the king. Each has a designed role and purpose. Like these pieces, the players in the game move in and out and about following a set pattern of rules and decorum which has been established by generations of past players. There is a strategy with each move, even the opening move, always with the sole intent of countering the other- staying one step ahead- anticipating the next move, two, three, four or more moves in advance- each move calculated in a systemic method of step by step conquering of the other- yes VICTORY!

The game is played out hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after year. Even when the players are sleeping which all must do, usually it is a fitful night’s rest of tossing and turning. It is almost impossible to let go of the moves executed by others, the moves that one- upped, a psychological defeat that can linger for days and weeks and months. Adding to the tossing and turning then are the anticipated plays awaiting to be put into motion upon waking in the morning with a throbbing headache, beating the other to the punch, regaining some sense of authority over the other and at the very least to erase the embarrassment and save face from yesterday’s beat down. 

Experts call these horrible exhausting sleep patterns insomnia or sleep apnea or some other technical, medical term. Players can only go so long with lack of sleep until just about everything in life is crumbling like stale teardrops on the floor. So what do players do in this fast paced game of hyper-chess but seek help and advice from these experts, trained to diagnose such ill-fated sleep patterns, who by the way are also players in their very own games, usually with colleagues, their stiffest competition.

Time must be taken away from playing the game to schedule a visit, to be run through a series of diagnostic evaluations, questionaries, a battery of stress tests, blood and urine samples, x-rays, probings, and being hooked up to crazy machines with tubes and hoses and sticky patches all connected to monitors to do just that, monitor brain waves, heart rate, sleep patterns and cycles, when completed the results compiled and discussed, the news shared to what is the diagnosed problem and the specialist, a doctor either subscribes some sort of medication or an exercise plan or some other sort of stress reducer and the player leaves and jumps right back on the board fully absorbed into the game. The maddening pace continues and all for what?

Most all do it. It can’t be helped. Most are wired in such a way. Human beings, the most competitive animals on earth are taught how to play the game, most often by simply watching the interaction of other players, and life easily becomes a life of one sole purpose, to outdo the other. But it is also known this will only last so long. Like the bully on the playground, in time a bigger, tougher bully comes along and claims the kingdom. 

Now, within the course of a lifetime there will be those who are different, unique, motivated in ways unlike the usual players of the game. They are motivated by intrinsic values, desires and goals. But these kind of players are rare because you see, they are not players at all. They figured out life is intended to be shared and appreciated and to grow into with age. Who are these special, unique ones? They are the artists and poets, the singers and songwriters, the teachers and social workers, the parents and friends, the thinkers, the ones who carry on in spite of the maddening game with a spirit of giving rather than taking. Most certainly each in their own way wants to give their best to what they are doing, but the efforts carried out through the day are not about winning at all cost. Money, power, fame, applause, and accolades are not the reasons for doing what is done. The entire reason why things are done is to make the world just a bit better for everyone else.

The maddening game, like a chess board hosting a generation of chess being played gets pretty rough and faded over time. The lines become blurred between what is right and what is wrong. Players can easily get lost and the maddening game will eat you up.

The choice is yours. Choose wisely.

The Intersection Two Blocks Down

The cupboards remain bare

Not even empty words line the shelves

loke a food bank collapsing

The hungry turned away

It's the simple silence ringing so loud and clear

She and he

Them and us

None are worthy of your attention

Another night

Silence is found

Only on the deserted streets

Apathy and neglect intersect right here