Lines and Boxes

I’ve been kind of down lately.

Little things have reminded me that there are parts of myself I need to work on. That the problems of my life have yet to be resolved. There’s a German compound word, altschmerz, which translates to weariness with the same old issues you’ve always had. That fits.

Growing up, I had this idea that life was supposed to play out a certain way. You go to school, go to college, choose a career, start a family. Life was a straight line, in other words. And I wasn’t on it. My life didn’t line up.

I know now that that’s not true at all. There are squiggles and zigzags, spikes and curves. Every line is different. Every life is unique. It just gets hard to escape that way of thinking. That other people are moving forward, living their lives, and you’re trapped in place.

That your life is twisted into a box.

A few weeks ago, I read about a psychological term called learned helplessness. It disturbed me, for two reasons. The first was that I recognized it as a form of animal training. Young elephants are tied up with ropes too heavy for them to snap. As adults, they believe the rope is impossible to escape, and never even try.

The second was that it sounded too familiar.

I’ve come to see how one’s mindset makes a big difference. If we believe there’s no way out, we stop trying. Even though the opportunities are there.

I have a way of getting lost in things. My books, my games, my writing, my job. All of these are important to me, the latter most of all. But now I wonder if deep down, I get lost on purpose. If I’m avoiding the things I don’t want to think about – including the steps and opportunities to fix them.

Maybe there really is a box, and I built it.

But that works the other way around, too.

Remember my Wheel of Time books? You know. The ones I’ve gone on and on and on about. I got the first when I was eleven, and spent over a decade collecting the entire set of fourteen. Fifteen, counting the prequel.

I managed this through various ways. Others asked what I wanted for my birthday. I answered, these books. Christmas? These books. Overseas at a bookstore? You get the idea. My family bought them as gifts; helped me buy them by proxy; and I bought them myself.

There’s a lesson there. I got what I wanted because I went after it. People gave me chances, and I took them.

Picture the books as a series of dots, spread out across the years. They might not seem like much, but I strung them together.

I drew my own line.

See how that works?

So this is a reminder, for you and for myself, that attitude makes a difference. That’s not just a platitude. It’s practical advice. We have to face our problems and believe they can be solved. We’ll never see how if we never look.

Everyone’s life is different. Every line is still being drawn. We all build our own boxes, now and then.

That doesn’t mean we have to stay there.