Monday, February 24, 2014

Thank You Lightning; Fu** Auto-Pilot

How does it happen, where I put my life on auto-pilot? And not at the good times, where I'm cruising and digging where I'm going and what I'm doing. No. Auto-pilot on the long stretches when I'm not paying attention and just letting my life cruise away, not engaging myself or those around me.

I know how. I tend to live in my head. And when bills are due, four hours of commuting each day is wearing on me, the kids are nuts, those are the time that, hey, what's wrong with dwelling in the cranium? I can change the view up there. Change the drapes. Open a window. Put a different song on the world of the head.

The funny thing about living in my head and letting my life cruise on auto-pilot, it doesn't work so well. I end up getting out of the car/truck/land-speeder, and I don't recognize where you are, how I got there, or maybe fully who I am when I look in the mirror. Fu** auto-pilot. Life is too short, love and people are too important.

I'm an introvert by nature. Writing, reading, running--time and activities spent in solitude recharge my batteries. But what good are fully charged batteries if I don't use them, or if there is nowhere to use them after life has been on auto-pilot for too long.

Sometimes it takes a lightning strike to zap your life on auto-pilot, to bring it back in front of you for inspection. Do you like where you are?

Thank you, Lightning. Fu** you, auto-pilot. I'm driving.

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