July 23
Lead me, Zeus, and you, Fate, wherever you have appointed me. I follow without hesitating. And if I were unwilling — I would have to follow all the same, only as the worse man.
Hymn to Zeus (freely rendered)
Listening mode
Lead me, Zeus, and you, Fate, wherever you have appointed me. I follow without hesitating. And if I were unwilling — I would have to follow all the same, only as the worse man.
Sometimes something is decided before anyone asks you. A move is settled, a department is dissolved, your body no longer allows a habit. All that seems left to you is the way you go along.
That very way can feel like the last thing that belongs to you. Anyone who follows grudgingly at least keeps on record that they wanted something else. Resentment becomes a kind of loyalty: to the old flat, to the former team, to what you were once able to do. Agreeing would feel almost like betrayal.
But reluctance ties up your attention. In the new place you mostly notice what is missing, and every inconvenience proves you right. The path stays the same; you just walk it with your face turned away.
Then there is the fact that it is rarely possible to say exactly when something is truly settled. Resistance has sometimes changed what seemed unchangeable. Whether your rebellion is worth it, you usually only know afterwards.
At some point you explain to someone how to get to the bakery in your new corner of town. You didn't choose to live here. But you already know your way around.
