I'm sitting in between Satisfaction and Longing on loaded bus to Mesquite. Satisfaction, with a smug, jerky look on his face is staring at his own reflection in the window, smiling at himself and no doubt thinking about just how magnificent he is. Longing is near the aisle, pushing as close to me as he possibly can with a shy smile, not wanting to be grappled by someone walking around the bus and pulled from his uncomfortable seat. Staring past me and out the window, I know he's dreaming of a better place. Where does that seat me?
My name is Complacency, a close relative to the obnoxiously satisfied Satisfaction and distant relative to the one that stares at me hoping I don't hurt him. Stuck in the middle, crowded in by two unbearable companions. Am I happy? No, Happy is about five rows ahead of me talking the ear of the driver off while her companion is Impatience who has been crying out since the moment we left "are we there yet?" Not that I can blame her, I wouldn't want to be sitting next to chatty Happy, I'm fine where I am, but that's the problem then isn't it?
It occured to me some hours ago that I was getting a little to comfortable in my seat. My seat is far from comforting, but I've gotten used to it and it suits me. I'm not happy with it, nor am I angry, I just am. A state of being, I think therefore I am isn't that correct? What I am is not what I wish to be. If I was what I wanted wouldn't I be what I wanted, or is that not how the game of life works? I'm beginning to doubt it works like that, for if I were not to think, or if I were to think I were nothing, would I truly cease to exist? Five minutes of trying shows it's not true, and here I am on this ragged old bus between Satisfaction and Longing still, thinking of something I should be thinking, wondering what I ought to be wondering.
I hate my name, yet I haven't changed it. It's just another thing I've gotten used to, in fact its on the bottom of the list of things I've simply accepted. I take what's given to me and accept it as it is, but I know there's more I can do. I know I can take what I'm given and make more of it, make more of me, or less of me for that matter. Were I to do so, maybe I'd be Happy chatting with the driver and not caring about the minutes being whisked away into dust. Not that I care about them anyways, but I probably wouldn't even acknowledge their existence were I to be Happy. But that would take something else, something I don't have, something that isn't in my name.
But what is a name? Is it the vice given to me to control my every action, or is it nothing more than another tool I can twist and mold into a bigger and better thing? It's not in my name to change, but my name isn't all I possess, at least I think. I have a nature, a nature that causes me to wonder about everything I'm not and wonder whether I would be happier elsewhere. My name is what it is, but my nature was not assigned to me, it is what I make of it.
As the bus pulls around to the next stop, I surprise my two companions by rising from my chair and walking towards the front of the bus. They stare at me in shock, we haven't arrived at the destination yet after all. They don't say anything aloud, but I know they're thinking it, and I know they're right. I'm not to the destination yet, but I know where my destination is. A part of me feels that it's time to let go of the destination and focus more on the journey. That's why I'm smiling as I walk towards the front of the bus, though Happy's legs are kicked into the aisle and blocking my way. I turn to her, about to open my mouth, but she opens hers instead.
"Getting off already?" she asks.
"Yes," I reply, feeling I should say more but not knowing what I should say.
She pulls her legs back to let me through, but surprises me by standing up as well.
"You know," she says. "I think I'm going to get off too, may I join you?"
Startled, I don't know what else to say except: "Sure."
She smiles, winks at the bus driver and at Impatience. "I'll meet you down there sometime," before turning to me and saying. "Shall we?"
Arm in arm, we get off the bus and watch it drive away, walking in the same direction but at a far different place. Somewhere between my seat and the sidewalk upon which I am now walking, I feel as though I've lost something. I realize I've lost my name, and feel substantially lost. But then, taking a look at Happy as we walk down the street, I relax. Maybe I can share her name for awhile.
My name is Complacency, a close relative to the obnoxiously satisfied Satisfaction and distant relative to the one that stares at me hoping I don't hurt him. Stuck in the middle, crowded in by two unbearable companions. Am I happy? No, Happy is about five rows ahead of me talking the ear of the driver off while her companion is Impatience who has been crying out since the moment we left "are we there yet?" Not that I can blame her, I wouldn't want to be sitting next to chatty Happy, I'm fine where I am, but that's the problem then isn't it?
It occured to me some hours ago that I was getting a little to comfortable in my seat. My seat is far from comforting, but I've gotten used to it and it suits me. I'm not happy with it, nor am I angry, I just am. A state of being, I think therefore I am isn't that correct? What I am is not what I wish to be. If I was what I wanted wouldn't I be what I wanted, or is that not how the game of life works? I'm beginning to doubt it works like that, for if I were not to think, or if I were to think I were nothing, would I truly cease to exist? Five minutes of trying shows it's not true, and here I am on this ragged old bus between Satisfaction and Longing still, thinking of something I should be thinking, wondering what I ought to be wondering.
I hate my name, yet I haven't changed it. It's just another thing I've gotten used to, in fact its on the bottom of the list of things I've simply accepted. I take what's given to me and accept it as it is, but I know there's more I can do. I know I can take what I'm given and make more of it, make more of me, or less of me for that matter. Were I to do so, maybe I'd be Happy chatting with the driver and not caring about the minutes being whisked away into dust. Not that I care about them anyways, but I probably wouldn't even acknowledge their existence were I to be Happy. But that would take something else, something I don't have, something that isn't in my name.
But what is a name? Is it the vice given to me to control my every action, or is it nothing more than another tool I can twist and mold into a bigger and better thing? It's not in my name to change, but my name isn't all I possess, at least I think. I have a nature, a nature that causes me to wonder about everything I'm not and wonder whether I would be happier elsewhere. My name is what it is, but my nature was not assigned to me, it is what I make of it.
As the bus pulls around to the next stop, I surprise my two companions by rising from my chair and walking towards the front of the bus. They stare at me in shock, we haven't arrived at the destination yet after all. They don't say anything aloud, but I know they're thinking it, and I know they're right. I'm not to the destination yet, but I know where my destination is. A part of me feels that it's time to let go of the destination and focus more on the journey. That's why I'm smiling as I walk towards the front of the bus, though Happy's legs are kicked into the aisle and blocking my way. I turn to her, about to open my mouth, but she opens hers instead.
"Getting off already?" she asks.
"Yes," I reply, feeling I should say more but not knowing what I should say.
She pulls her legs back to let me through, but surprises me by standing up as well.
"You know," she says. "I think I'm going to get off too, may I join you?"
Startled, I don't know what else to say except: "Sure."
She smiles, winks at the bus driver and at Impatience. "I'll meet you down there sometime," before turning to me and saying. "Shall we?"
Arm in arm, we get off the bus and watch it drive away, walking in the same direction but at a far different place. Somewhere between my seat and the sidewalk upon which I am now walking, I feel as though I've lost something. I realize I've lost my name, and feel substantially lost. But then, taking a look at Happy as we walk down the street, I relax. Maybe I can share her name for awhile.
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