Phrases that sustain us

You can’t be arguing some things in the world THAT WE LIVE IN AND KNOW. The “real” world may turn out to be something quite different than what we perceive it to be, but that philosophical meandering does not serve us well this hour, this day, this month and I guess you get the trend of this sentence.

Physics is what it is as we live from day to day. In this world, mathematics is certain. We know this and we don’t go against it . . . because that would be just dumb. I do not believe anyone who sits around musing about alternate realities and universes would lie down on a conveyor belt and ride through a grinding machine . . . because, hey, there are ‘things we can’t understand yet’.  When push comes to shove, people don’t walk the stand in front of a bus and let it go through your molecules talk.

We are math and physics and chemistry and yet somewhere in our brains we make a leap to it being a mind. And minds are iffy things because they are, when it comes down to it, math and physics and chemistry. How long are your synapses? How much of this enzyme do you have? What have you altered by eating, drinking or having a nightmare?

Still, still, I am a person, or organism if you will, that wants to think there is a mind and something such as character and strength of will. I find comfort in impassioned speeches and noble expressions. I think I actually think that maybe,  just maybe, I can stretch that four that comes from two plus two into, if not a five, a four and a quarter. I think that I think there is a way to reach a purer place or moment in an inch by inch, determined struggle.

I am not at all certain that what “I think that I think” is what I think I believe. But I like to fool myself sometimes because it feels good and seems so worthwhile. And, of course, the more people that believe in this doing the right thing business, the better it will probably be for me. I could really annoy and just infuriate a person and he/she could decide to rip my head off, but then think, “Oh, that wouldn’t be the right thing” and I go on my way.

But what am I getting out of a quest for character and right thing doing? In terms of  chemistry and physics and, oh yes, the math of money? Really, what? There are an awful lot of folks out there who are skilled at working the system of life and get what they want any way possible while giving lip service to principles and such. There are an awful lot of folks who just jump on a bandwagon because the first group of ‘an awful lot of people’ tell them it is the – I repeat myself – right thing.

I grab the balm of character-seeking and striving because, crap, it should be true. And I get tired; I find comfort and energizing renewal in such thoughts. And thoughts are words and I let them flow over my whatever composition in my head.

So here I go to rev myself up for another day:

Buckle Down Winsocki,

My only regret is that I have one life to give for my country.

Give me liberty or give me death.

And, of course, there is this:

Knute Rockne:  Well, boys … I haven’t a thing to say.
Played a great game…all of you. Great game.
(He tries to smile.)
I guess we just can’t expect to win ‘em all.
(Rockne pauses and says quietly.)
I’m going to tell you something I’ve kept to myself for years —
None of you ever knew George Gipp.
It was long before your time.

But you know what a tradition he is at Notre Dame…
(There is gentle, faraway look in his eyes as he recalls the boy’s words.)
And the last thing he said to me — “Rock,” he said –
“sometime, when the team is up against it — and the
breaks are beating the boys — tell them to go out there
with all they got and win just one for the Gipper…
(Knute’s eyes become misty and his voice is unsteady as he finishes.)
I don’t know where I’ll be then, Rock”, he said – “but
I’ll know about it – and I’ll be happy.”

(There is a hushed stillness as Rockne and the crowd of boys look at each other. In the midst of this tense silence,
Rockne quietly says “Alright,” to the men beside him, and his chair is wheeled slowly out of the dressing room.)

A Player:
Well, what are we waiting for?

With a single roar, the players throw off their blankets and rush through the doorway