Saturday, April 2, 2016

Worry worry

One of our personas has this anxiety disorder. We won't say which one because we don't wish to embarrass them, him and his disorder. Years ago we got to know them really well. They loved to drive, or more likely it was too nerve racking for them to let anyone else drive, as no one else in our little world had the least concern about how fast our heart was thumping. We used to count power poles with them, to keep their mind somewhat focused, on those drives to work in the morning when the roads were slippery with snow and ice and all the four by fours who cruised by us ended up in the ditch a few miles on. We let our anxious pair mosey on at a safe crawl, and they always got us to the six hundred and eighty-ninth pole with no ill consequences.

We personas are all left handed. They say left handed people worry a lot. They worry about everything. Statistics tell us we don't live as long either, no wonder, just another thing to worry about. There is a difference between worry and anxiety. Worry is when we irrationally overly concern ourselves with the consequences of our left handedness, and anxiety is when our bodies overly compensate for being left handed by doing things that cause us more worry. Actually none of us ever thinks about being left handed unless someone says “Oh you're left handed, do you want to sit on the other side of me?” We usually just go out and eat in the parking lot. Then we can be anxious about being social misfits as we let the air out of their tire. Luckily our best man was left handed too.

The road to worry free living is long and tricky. A simple life helps much. A car or even a bicycle can cause huge anxiety when they don't work properly. It is best to simply walk, but carrying a big stick, the urchins can divest you of even a comforting hat. Ragged clothes are an awesome defence against swindlers and an anarchist emblem embroidered on your smock will keep the religious types at bay. As we age along it becomes much more convenient to leave the niceties of life behind. Homes and fancy furniture have their place, but the worry over mortgages and insurance and credit cards is really not worth the trouble. Begging is the most practical solution to hunger, but a bit of lighthearted thievery may be necessary in some uptight locals. Many well-meaning folk have faltered on this long and tricky road, being subverted by the thrills of compensation for selling their souls.

It is of course possible, if one has the presence of mind to pamper oneself now and then, to use the social achievements of our western world for a handy bed and a hot bath. As we soak in the baths at the local YMCA we can daydream about the coming utopia. We have the resources, the knowledge and the work force to repair and upgrade all our infrastructure, to feed and house everyone. Our problem is money, that virtual thing which through algorithms of the tables of money lenders has befuddled common sense and cost much of modern humanity it's empathy. It would not be impossible for a country like Canada to become self-sufficient in most things we need and make do with the rest. We could then care the less what our currency was worth compared to other nations. If humanity really needs capitalism to function, at least keep it philanthropic, maybe forge a generosity virus which could mutate it's way around the nations to divest the 1% of their hangups.

Our version of history has taught us that this won't happen. There will always be someone who wants to rule and the algorithms are getting more and more incomprehensible. The enlightened ones will not worry though, left handed or not. We can wander the earth with grace and dignity and a big stick counting the power poles and if we reach a wall, well, walls just keep the honest folk out. Worry, worry.
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