At Rest
Inertia. That’s me. The tendency of a body to stay at rest. As a human it is probably a pretty good trait. Because, generally, if you are at rest, it means you are safe. No heartbreak, sorrow, or danger awaits if you just stay home and mind your own business. It’s why I don’t get out as often as I could or should. I think genetically, when my basic code was laid down, I was engineered to be a rock rather than a human. Just sit.
Of course, it also means that once I get in motion, I’m likely to stay in motion and that it takes a force of equal weight to push me off course or stop me. And it has to be a big force. Which is why I stay true to my school and all that other stuff. They call it loyalty, fidelity, perseverance. You name it. They’re just other terms for inertia. And somewhere in there you’d probably find a good psychology paper, and I’d also be willing to bet that someone has probably already written it.
I say all this because yesterday my grief group got cancelled. The moderator was ill. One of the members volunteered their home. Normally, I would have demurred because going in a different direction would have involved changing course, doing something different. Instead, I went. We had a good session. I have no idea what force moved me, but I’m glad it did. It was probably the same force that got me to the group in the first place. The same force that drives people to immigrate, change jobs, over come grief, a force that says, “If you stay here, you’ll die. You can do better. So, let’s go.” And you go, and you do. Get better.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale