Mood Swings
Some people can keep their nose to the grindstone for long periods.
In contrast there are those who work so hard at (any) form of escape that it becomes a grindstone itself; sooner or later they have to escape from their escape.
Most of us have a fairly regular moodswing. In later years we may confess, with C.S.Lewis, that we love monotony, but eventually we have to ease off (or out).
In the course of a long and happy life I've noticed various forms of moodswing at various times:
1. I will omit adolescence; it isn't really worth talking about.
2. During WWII as a merchant seaman life went on pretty routinely while at sea. But at port! oh my! A more concentrated and illumined life broke out with great intensity. (One poor devil had been torpedoed three times; he still went to sea, but in port he went blotto ASAP, to stave off the horrors.)
3. Aboard ship I played checkers with an old boy named Noisy, because he hardly ever opened his mouth except to eat. But everytime he went ashore his shipmates brought him back in an hour or so all banged up from fighting somebody; that was the shape of his escape.
4. In the civilian interlude between WWII and the Korean "police action" escape (for me) was pandemic; a creative routine had just disappeared. (Mother called me part of the 'lost generation'.)
5. Korea: on a D.E. in the Pacific it was much like it had been in the 40's-- we lived primarily during those precious hours ashore.
6. Still in the navy in San Diego in 1953 I rented a house in Tiajuana for intense celebrations on weekends.
7. In 1963 when I began working with alcohol problems (of other people), I found many of the factory workers had no idea of spending Friday any way but getting drunk.
Or take Fred Johnson. He satisfactorily coped with a dreary job and a shrewish wife- for a period! For about three months he was such a good boy that he became president of the Baptist Training Union in his local church.
Then he got drunk! He made the 'chain gang' for three months. Fred did moodswing with a vengeance.
Back in '55 working my way into the usual conventional life of quiet desperation a high school chum and I had regular mood swings at the French Quarter. There were lots of diversions there; we preferred drinking quietly at the Napoleon Bar on Chartres St. where they played classical music records.
One day, after a fairly long period of 'quiet desperation' it came to me that I was going to have to get drunk (not much in the way of drugs in those days). I didn't want to, but I felt like I had to.
The good Lord had mercy on me because soon after I found the ultimate 'escape' in a higher calling. Mood swings continued, and still do today, but the quiet desperation is gone.
May all your mood swings become creative.
This post was inspired by Christopher Phillips latest book intitled Socrates in Love.
In contrast there are those who work so hard at (any) form of escape that it becomes a grindstone itself; sooner or later they have to escape from their escape.
Most of us have a fairly regular moodswing. In later years we may confess, with C.S.Lewis, that we love monotony, but eventually we have to ease off (or out).
In the course of a long and happy life I've noticed various forms of moodswing at various times:
1. I will omit adolescence; it isn't really worth talking about.
2. During WWII as a merchant seaman life went on pretty routinely while at sea. But at port! oh my! A more concentrated and illumined life broke out with great intensity. (One poor devil had been torpedoed three times; he still went to sea, but in port he went blotto ASAP, to stave off the horrors.)
3. Aboard ship I played checkers with an old boy named Noisy, because he hardly ever opened his mouth except to eat. But everytime he went ashore his shipmates brought him back in an hour or so all banged up from fighting somebody; that was the shape of his escape.
4. In the civilian interlude between WWII and the Korean "police action" escape (for me) was pandemic; a creative routine had just disappeared. (Mother called me part of the 'lost generation'.)
5. Korea: on a D.E. in the Pacific it was much like it had been in the 40's-- we lived primarily during those precious hours ashore.
6. Still in the navy in San Diego in 1953 I rented a house in Tiajuana for intense celebrations on weekends.
7. In 1963 when I began working with alcohol problems (of other people), I found many of the factory workers had no idea of spending Friday any way but getting drunk.
Or take Fred Johnson. He satisfactorily coped with a dreary job and a shrewish wife- for a period! For about three months he was such a good boy that he became president of the Baptist Training Union in his local church.
Then he got drunk! He made the 'chain gang' for three months. Fred did moodswing with a vengeance.
Back in '55 working my way into the usual conventional life of quiet desperation a high school chum and I had regular mood swings at the French Quarter. There were lots of diversions there; we preferred drinking quietly at the Napoleon Bar on Chartres St. where they played classical music records.
One day, after a fairly long period of 'quiet desperation' it came to me that I was going to have to get drunk (not much in the way of drugs in those days). I didn't want to, but I felt like I had to.
The good Lord had mercy on me because soon after I found the ultimate 'escape' in a higher calling. Mood swings continued, and still do today, but the quiet desperation is gone.
May all your mood swings become creative.
This post was inspired by Christopher Phillips latest book intitled Socrates in Love.
posted by Larry Clayton at 5:00 AM
6 comments
