Some years ago, a good friend of mine asked me, “Why, if you’re so smart, are you so stupid?”
I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to his question. “What do you mean?”
“Well, here’s the thing. You like pain. It’s like you’re constantly standing on the railroad tracks, you see the freight train barreling down on you, and what do you do? You stay there and watch it mow you down. You see it, but you don’t ever do anything to avoid it.”
I was kind of dumbfounded by his insight to the way that I live. At the time, I shrugged it off and didn’t think much of it. A few years later, he died and I randomly remembered that conversation for no particular reason. As I’d gotten a bit older, I began to recognize some of those self-destructive behaviours that I have.
I see now what Rob was trying to tell me. He knew me all to well, and knew what kind of person I was. I have a great deal of insight in to the world, I see the problems developing and I see the ways to fix them, but instead, I stand there and allow them to spiral and spin wildly out of control. That’s when the train hits me, and I collect the pieces of my life again and move on.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about Rob so much today. Probably because I feel like I’m trying to piece my life back together, and probably because I miss some of the guidance and good natured jabbing he was always able to give.
“You always watch the train come toward you, but you don’t care and you don’t move. For whatever reason, each time you think the impact is going to be different. Andy, it never is… it never will be.”
I miss you, Rob.