Gray and raining outside. Starbucks is momentarily, unnaturally quiet, only the two of us minding our screens and our thoughts. Why so silent? Is this the edge? I mean the edge (never with a safety rail) of the abyss? Perhaps it’s extraordinary to know when one is proximate to the edge, a “hazard zone” beyond which nothing such as solid rock, or solid ground lends essential support, friction resisting gravitational pull…

Such ironic thoughts would never arise on a sunny morning…

As a rule of thumb I do not choose high places. Even as a kid I wouldn’t climb as high in a massive old climbing tree as did my friends. (Sure everyone knew what would happen on any mistake-in-judgment when moving limb to limb) I just didn’t think the thrill was worth the risk. However as an adult I have often enjoyed the panoramic view of a city, or a distant valley, views that only a high place affords. Then one knows without doubt — this is perilous, even to stake one’s life but WTF — I’ll never forget this view!

Typically though I am unaware of the abyss, of how close I am to the edge, or how often, — when that bullet snapped past my ear… It is only in a retrospect that you know.

But we go on, against all odds, odds which we are unable to calculate.

To conclude, these words from The Unnamable by Samuel Beckett seem apt:

In the silence you don’t know,
You must go on,
I can’t go on.
I’ll go on.

This tune by Blondie, Heart of Glass, captures our dilemma, the exhilaration and the terror! In a few hours all will cross the divide to enter 2025. Who knows this may be our final chance to be happy?!

Choose the unknown (the abyss) of happiness!