Enough is Enough

“Enough is enough,” says the alcoholic, teetering on the brink of death and tired of it.

“Enough is enough,” says the abused partner, refusing to let themselves be wounded once more.

“Enough is enough,” says the depressed person,  sick of the sound of his own thoughts.

Is there a more powerful phrase in the English language?

Only “No more” comes close.

When someone says “Enough is enough” and means it, they mark a new era in their life.

The words are generally preceded by events so terrible that we are thankful that they happened, only because they forced us to do what we long put off.

I uttered those words today, and I meant them.

How did I come to that point?

A man walking through the desert with a heavy pack will eventually be faced with a choice: either drop the pack or collapse.

I dropped the pack just before I fell to the ground, and though I’m still on my feet, the Desert remains. I am searching for water.

Probably I will look down and see this Desert is a sheet of ice, and all the water I could need is just inches below my feet. I will see that the years of difficulty were merely the result of an illusion, one that I myself created and so am responsible for destroying.

I look forward to that day of realization. A sure sign of a happy man is one who can laugh at the mistakes of his past.

 

Today I said, “Enough is enough.”

Tomorrow I will say, “Time to begin again.”

Laughing at Life

Whats disturbing in one moment is hilarious the next.

Humor is usually the release of tension caused by a change in context regarding a shocking or absurd event.

People who don’t laugh are usually bitter, cynical, and resentful of the cruel nature of the world. The reasons for this are more than chemical. It is all too easy for one to despair in the knowledge of our condition; as mortal members of a young species existing on a floating piece of rock in a largely empty and barren Universe.

Yet that very description of our existence could function as the set up to a joke.

I’ve heard that morticians usually go to their work with a light-hearted attitude. Because what other choice do they have?

If every mortician woke up every day considering the dark implications and meanings implied by every part of their work, none would ever last more than a month.

We, as humans have no other choice but to laugh in the face of our absurd position as self-aware monkeys capable of gaining control and understanding of physical laws and conditions. Our options, if we are to confront the reality of existence, rather than ignore it, are only this; cradle our heads and weep, or throw them back and laugh at the stars.

The moments we forget that smirk and glimmer in the eye, whenever we cast our eyes down to consider graveyards and names long forgotten, we lose the emotional levity and leverage required for a productive experience and existence. The agoraphobes and the shut-ins aren’t laughing very much–, and from a certain perspective, their attitudes toward the world are accurate. It is risky out there. Chaos reigns supreme everywhere, successful though we might be at managing specific processes and outcomes. To live is to risk, to be in danger, to get hurt, stumble, fall, get embarrassed, and fail as many times as not.

But to despair and retreat from all that, to hide in safety and sadness–

What is that but a death for the living?