Pinnacle!

Good afternoon!
It's good to be back. The life we live is like a massive ocean and we're surfing on the waves trying to keep our heads above the water. Some of us are just surviving and some are up on the high tides and some are sinking deeper with each passing wave. And we dont stay in one place, one minute you could be sinking and the next minute you are elevated to take a breath of air.
I would like to announce that in my current state (and for a few days now) I've been surfing on the high tides. It is really quite exhilarating. Things are going well, I feel extremely alive and sociable and snarling and ready to take any challenge that meets me. My social circles are expanding exponentially and I am beginning to really culture some of my skills to my benefit.
I am on the pinnacle of youthfulness.
I know it sounds so manic or perhaps hypomanic, and so what? Even if it is, as long as I'm functioning and I'm Ok with it then that's all that matters.
I know of course that this state of being on the pinnacle wont last for too long, because nothing we experience is ever permanent. We have to rise then drop then rise again...then stagnate for a while and so on. So I wont attach to this feeling of awesomeness, because I know that it'll slip through my fingers as soon as I try to grasp it.
It's alot like grains of rice...they will stay in your hand if you just gently let them stay...but as soon as you clench your fist to grab them hard, they'll slip through the cracks between your fingers.
It's not worth the trouble. It is alright to just experience the moment and enjoy it while it lasts.
I have also come to realize that being anhedonic is really not all that bad. To be completely present and living in the moment.
The past is gone and the future is still to come...so just focus on what you have now.

Another thing that happened yesterday that made me realize how humans have this inherent impulse to provide comfort or justification. It is a good thing however in other times it is entirely inappropriate and counter-intuitive.
In times of crisis or emotional volcanos one of the ways to deal with people experiencing it, is to just give them space. To not speak a word. To not provide comfort or justification. To frankly just shut the hell up and just be present.
Realize, that no matter how logical your words are, they will do NOTHING to help a bereaved person. They will do nothing to lighten the blow for a person who has just recieved acutely distressing news. Or a person who is reflecting melancholic-ally.
I entered the ER as an intern and, as I often like to do, stand in the corner and observe the movements and behaviour of the people inside. The injured, their families, the doctors, nurses, interns, the security guards. Everything! The dynamics inside the ER is a rich and nutritious medium for any keen observer.
So I decided to focus my attention on the resusitative attempts made on a thin, frail, 60 something year old man who had just sustained injuries as a result of motor vehicle accident. The doctors and nurses were swarming around him, inserting tubes and attaching monitors and all those medical things. He was mumbling and kicking and slightly combative.
When suddenly the monitors went flat and everyone was alerted that this man has just gone into cardiac arrest.
And so the cardiopulmonary resuscitative measures started. Young muscular interns standing on chairs opposite the patient's bed and taking turns to compress the heart. It looked like a desperate attempt to awaken the dead. Futile. But they continued on anyways, for around 15 cycles. Which, according to my limited knowledge is a few fold above the recommended cycles to be attempted. Injection of adrenaline. Hema-gel infusion. A little something here and a little something there and finally they stopped. Nothing worked and the man was declared dead.
As soon as the declaration was made the swarms dissolved. It was a brilliant show! The appeared so quickly and seemed so vigorous and suddenly when the curtains closed they evaporated.
And they arent wrong to do so. This is a dead human who no longer requires the service of the living. They cant help him and he cant respond to them. And not forgetting that humans, by nature are very uncomfortable with the idea of being in the vicinity of the deceased. Perhaps because it reminds us of our own mortality and finity.
I continued to stand there to watch the aftermaths.
I watched the process of the policeman coming into to document the death, the sons of the man arriving and seeing their father dead. One of them was tearful and unable to withstand to look at his father...he looked once or twice then turned his face to one side and covered his eyes and weeped quietly. The other son was full of anger and began to shout to the policeman to tell him, that who ever did this to his father will pay for what he did and that we shouldnt let this pass...etc.
Both men are hurt and disturbed but each one represents it in a whole different way.
I think that perhaps the one that weeped will be the one who recovers and accepts it, quicker. I dont know, just my hypothesis.
Then I watched as the nurse gently tied feet and hands together to prevent his limbs from expanding laterally after the process of rigor mortis and the process of covering him up.
I touched the old man's arm, as I was curious about whether he'd gone stone cold, as I read in scary books. He was cool, room temperture. Then I realized that now that he is dead, he is no longer warm-blooded mammal. His temperture is a reflection of the external temperture, similar to a reptile which we refer to as cold blooded.
The dead are so docile and non-defensive. It does seem morbid and dark of me to make such an observation, but I couldnt help but think that way. He is no longer defensive. You can say anything to him and you can inflict any injury on him and he won't flinch in defense. His face wont colour up with frustration and his words wont get offensive and vulgar...or at least he wont cross his arms in physical defense. He will lie there, submissive.
It is our natural state. We were born completely helpless and submissive and we return to that state at the end of our lives.
Living is a sandwich, of submissive helplessness on each pole and a fire of strife and struggle in between.
As I was standing there looking at my deceased friend with cloudy eyes and total disconnection from the buzzing around me in the ER, a colleague approached me and I nearly jumped out of my skin from being startled.
He looked at me right in the eye and seeing that my eyes were clouded with a thin film of tears and a strange mesmerized facial expression he asked me if I was alright. I smiled and nodded. "Why are you standing like that? Don't be upset about it...we are all going to die and turn to dust anyways...it's not a big deal"
I was thinking...so you come and disturb my thoughtful tranquillity with your bullshit justifications and comforting? I started to feel myself getting defensive and angry...however I realized that he was not worth my time or words.
I nodded... "yeah, I know...it's alright I know"
He looked at me right in the eyes and said.. "Well, my name is David anyways"
"Nice to meet you David, I'm Wegdan"
His smile was a concerned smile, but I didn't care. I just needed him to go away, because with every passing second I was getting agitated from his insensitive disruption.
And then I realized that David wasn't the bad one. David was just a human being, doing what all human beings do on autopilot when they see someone who's upset or disturbed or whatever. They say bullshit and empty justifications.
It made me ever-more aware of what I say when I'm faced with disturbed and upset people. I'll tape my lips together and only speak if I have something meaningful to say. No autopilot comforting.