(i was reading old blog posts for a bit this evening, a little like stepping into another world or past life, and i realized i really like some of that old stuff i've written. anyway, i'm reposting this, as it's one of my favorites.)
it's like a scene in a movie. the heroine has tried everything she can think of to defeat her nemesis and save the day. the clock is ticking. time is running out. she's cornered and desperate, and that's when she remembers it. the cabinet down the hall with the glass door that says "break only in case of emergency". so she pulls some sweet ninja move to get to the cabinet, busts open the glass, and removes her secret weapon.
i've always felt like that's how it is. like if things ever got to the point where i was going to die if i didn't do something, there would suddenly be a something that i thought of that would remedy the situation. even when it comes to emotions, i feel there are certain blissful feelings i've locked away to depend on for nourishment if i ever get truely depressed. i walk down the street with the constant feeling that i've got something up my sleeve.
i guess for some people that secret weapon is faith. they believe that at those times when there is nowhere else to turn, god will be there. god can't suddenly appear in the alley in the form of chuck norris and drop kick the guy with the knife to your throat, of course. but he might make some miracle happen, i.e. a dog barks at just the right moment, and said attacker, who is terrified of dogs, has a heart attack and stumbles into the street where he's run over by the ice cream truck.
the secret weapon could be anything. god. money. family. the truth. a lie. respect for hidden knowledge in our own unconscious minds or the universal subconscious.
but i suspect we all have one, even if we have no idea what it might be, even if there isn't a damn clue in our silly heads about whether there's a gun in that class case or a clown juggling bicycles.
and no matter what we do, we never get that feeling like we've used our secret weapon. either we've never used it or we've got loads of secret weapons and super secret weapons and super super secret weapons stashed all over town. because having that feeling is somehow important to our survival as sane creatures.
funny how probably the only thing separating most sane from insane people is a little delusional thinking.
(stay tuned for an even funnier post tomorrow, regarding poetry. unless you're on Rabbit's Den, since i'm probably going to post it there right now.)