Comfortably Numb

Comfortably Numb

by Larry Hamilton

My 70th birthday recently came and went without incident or fanfare. I preferred it that way as I had mixed feelings about its arrival. It was a milestone I could not fathom as a younger man, and I find it unsettling to be honest. Turning older imposes limits on me which I resist and resent, but I carry on. For those of you who find yourself in this later stage of life, I think you will relate to some of the things I am about to write. For those who have yet to reach this point in your life, two things. It takes some luck and good fortune to make it here safely and sanely…well sanity is optional. Second, do not think yourselves immune to what eventually comes to us all. I too, thought myself immortal when I was very young. Bad things always happen to someone else was what I chose to believe. It’s jarring when you discover you are not bulletproof, and that realization comes at a different time and in different ways for everyone. It took broken bones and multiple surgeries to shatter my false sense of invulnerability. Life comes at you fast sometimes.

Today, I listened to the song Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd for the 1,000th time, at least. It has always spoken to me in different ways. It is an ethereal, otherworldly song, full of thought-provoking lyrics and mental imagery. The live version of this song found on the Pulse DVD Set, is the most stunning and unforgettable single performance I have ever witnessed, even on a screen. You can watch it on YouTube if you want to use the free and easy route, but make sure you watch the Pulse version at Royal Albert Hall in London. 

But, that is not what this is about. This is about what happens to us over time. Who and what we become as the years whittle us down into less robust versions of our younger selves. What is left? Is it more? Is it less? Was it worth it? Did we learn anything along the way? Did we gradually become comfortably numb in order to survive life’s slings and arrows? Young people, pay attention. Your class began the day you were born.

 

There is no pain you are receding

A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon

 

Relevance. I desperately try to avoid becoming a distant ship’s smoke on the horizon. I still want to matter and make a difference, otherwise, what am I doing here? I want to do something important while I remain among the living. Something worthwhile enough to survive my own mortality. In my case, I started writing novels, something I surprised myself with, considering how late in life I have taken up this madness. It is one of the most difficult things I have ever attempted and I wouldn’t recommend it unless you enjoy being tortured on a daily basis, but it fed something inside of me and made me feel alive. Like I still have something to contribute. Like I could still slay a dragon here and there. It gave me another shot at relevance, even if I’m only relevant to a small but growing number of readers and followers who are important to me. 

Do you struggle with relevance? Perhaps you are no longer in the workplace after years of accomplishments and being an integral part of an organization and team. Or perhaps you’re afraid you are not the main cog in the family machinery anymore. Feeling like you are orbiting the family and not being the center of it as much as in the past. Do you wonder if you will be missed and remembered after you are no longer here? I do. We all do. It’s our human condition.

 

Your lips move…but I can’t hear what you’re saying

 

Sometimes the memories I created along my long and winding road come back to envelop me, absorb me, buffet me and comfort me, becoming more real and important than what is transpiring around me. So much of me was invested in the making of those memories. I know…I should stay in the moment. But, I’ve had so many moments, both joyful and gut-wrenching, I choose not to ignore their worth. I feel a need to break them down to see what it was all about. What’s it all about, Alfie? (old song and movie reference ☺). Why did I do what I did and why did others do what they did? I stand in amazement at what incredible roles we play in each other’s stories. I wonder if I gained anything from it all or just made a series of questionable decisions creating a different ending than I ever imagined or aspired to. What if I had chosen differently? An unexamined life is not worth living, some say. So, I examine mine, even when it hurts. And it often does. But, at other times it makes me smile and pump my fist in exultation.

 

I can’t explain, you would not understand

This is not how I am

I have become…comfortably numb.

 

I have occasionally been at odd junctions in my life and thought…this is not who I am, is it? But now, I wonder. Maybe this is who I am, and I do not want to acknowledge it. The jury remains deadlocked. I may never know the reasons behind it all, at least not in this life. I don’t know whether to eagerly look forward to my life review on the other side, or fear it. They tell me my inbox will be full when I die, no matter how hard I try to empty it. As the answers continue to elude me, I resort to becoming numb to these questions so I am able to move on.

 

When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse

Out of the corner of my eye

 

This particular set of lyrics never fails to bring tears to my eyes. They seem innocent enough and I don’t expect others to understand their impact on me…unless they do. I didn’t always understand why either, but as the years marched by, I finally got it. My childhood was difficult, just as many of yours were, and I grew up with a thought, a glimpse, an idea of who I could become, no matter my outer circumstances. At times, I could see the images of my future self out of the corner of my eye, and I eagerly waited for the moment they would materialize and show me to be who I was really meant to be. The images were very real, and they sustained me through many dark days and nights. I held them before me as a torch guiding me through the shadows. I just knew it would all be worth it someday if I stood strong and held my ground until the right time came. A time when I controlled my life and destiny. Countless times, I reached out and squeezed those dreams in my fist and held on tightly to make sure I would not forget who I really was to become. But…well…life happened.

 

I turned to look, and it was gone

I cannot put my finger on it now

 

As I often stumbled, got back up, dusted myself off, and continued on through all the crossroads and choices I encountered in my life, it became increasingly difficult for me to hang on to the visions that had sustained me for so long. Jobs, family issues, broken relationships, injuries, disappointments. So many distractions and detractions. So, I began to look away from those things I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye. They mocked me. Sometimes, I didn’t even care about them anymore and I ignored them.

 

The child is grown

The dream is gone

I have become comfortably numb

 

These three lines of the song trouble me the most. I still see those dreams and visions and I don’t want that child to grow and become numb. These images are visceral, real, tangible, ever-speaking to me and they continue to dance teasingly at the corner of my vision. They also haunt me, make me miserable and unsettled, yet keep something valuable alive inside of me. The desire to grow and remain connected to my essence. I don’t want them to fade away, even though they bring pain and discontent. But, the pain helps me know I’m yet alive. I remember feeling the most alive during some of my most terrifying moments. The dead and the living dead feel nothing.

A friend of mine recently shared an old yearbook photo of me when I was in 8th grade. It shook me to my very core and I am still dealing with it. I feel as if I unexpectedly encountered a hauntingly familiar ghost. In many ways, I did. In that picture, I was the class president, and it also showed the vice-president and secretary of our class, all good friends of mine at the time. I was very poor, but up to that moment in my life, I had never lost sight of the idea of who I really was and who I was going to be, so I didn’t experience myself as poor. A bright future was right there at the corner of my eye if I looked for it. So, I always acted as if I was already that future person I envisioned rather than allowing my challenging circumstances to dictate differently. It worked for me…until. Until we moved out of state, suddenly, over the summer and I left behind many valued relationships and the sense of identity I had so relentlessly built and protected. Things were never quite the same for me after that. My path was altered and my life took an entirely different direction. 

As a result of that move, I suffered discrimination on many levels, a new experience for me. The poverty in our home remained but now we lived around people who were well to do, so I felt my poverty keenly for the first time. Coming from the hills of eastern Kentucky, people automatically viewed me as ignorant and dumb and they delighted in making fun of my accent and my clean but well-worn clothes. I fought back with everything I had, sometimes using my fists, sometimes my intellect. I struggled to keep hold of those dreams floating just off to the side, even though they were growing dimmer. So, the child was forced to grow up prematurely and the dreams seemed much more distant than before, threatening to disappear altogether. I became comfortably numb as a means of survival in this new world in which I found myself. It was now about surviving, not thriving. The rest of my life was irrevocably altered as a result of that life-changing move. I see it so clearly when I look at that boy in the 8th grade picture. Sometimes, I shed silent tears for him and wonder what may have been. I loved him and his dreams, I still do. He was a survivor. Everybody said he was a good kid back then and was headed for good things in his life. And many good things did happen in his life, but they happened differently.

 

Okay, just a little pinprick

There’ll be no more (pain) ahhh! But you may feel a little sick

Can you stand up? I do believe it’s working…good

That’ll keep you going through the show

Come on, it’s time to go

 

I guess we all have our own ways of dealing with things as we mature and reflect on our past. The show goes on and we still have to play our individual parts. We do what we have to do in order to find relevance and meaning for ourselves. We cling a little tighter to our loved ones in ways they do not fully understand, especially the younger ones. Perhaps we pick up a new hobby or make a late charge at one of those dreams hanging around the periphery of our vision, like I did with my writing. I consider Don Quixote my hero as I tilt at windmills. 

You see, later in years, we learn how fragile and short life really is. We have to adjust to seeing dear friends and relatives getting off the train of life while leaving enormous holes in our hearts and lives. We begin to distill our daily existence into the things we value most, while other things that used to seem so important…fade into the background. Sometimes, I look deeply into my own eyes in the mirror to see if I still recognize the person staring back at me. It’s a little unsettling, to be honest. A little too real. I can’t do it for long. They say it is hard because you are looking at your soul. Maybe so. This stage of life seems as surreal to me as the soaring, eerie, haunting final guitar work on Comfortably Numb. It is my all-time favorite guitar solo and David Gilmour is channeling divinity when he picks up his Stratocaster. It is a masterpiece that compels you to feel the message of the song deep in your being as the notes paint the words onto an invisible canvas.

 

Hello, hello, hello…Is there anybody in there?

Just nod if you can hear me, is there anyone at home?

Come on now, I hear you’re feeling down

Well, I can ease your pain

Get you on your feet again…

 

Forgive me…I have to go now before this turns into another full-length novel. I have no answers other than my own. We have to find those for ourselves. Just keep doing your show as best you can and hold onto the vision of who you are and always wanted to be, even if you can only get a glimpse of it now and then. It’s been nice talking to you, but oh, I see something…out of the corner of my eye. 

Hanging by a Thread

We often hear the phrase “hanging by a thread”. It typically refers to a life situation that has become desperate or threatened. With all that is currently taking place in our world today, I thought the phrase to be exceptionally relevant.

We enjoy a tenuous existence at best. We often experience a life of “quiet desperation” and spend a lot of time and money in an attempt to prolong and protect our lives as well as those of our loved ones. Always trying to plan and achieve and build for the future while doing our best to ignore the executioner’s axe hanging over our necks, unsure of when it might fall. Never knowing when we no longer get to participate in this strange game of life. I will admit, it makes for a lot of high drama and intriguing storylines if you are a writer such as myself. However, writers are subject to these same rules of existence, so we cannot take the plights of others too lightly when we observe and write about them. We are writing about our own fears as well.

I thought today of the devastation taking place in Florida due to Hurricane Ian. They are calling it a once in a thousand year weather event. Until a year ago, I was a resident of Southwest Florida. I enjoyed many a drink and stunning sunset in Punta Gorda, Port Charlotte, Fort Myers, Venice, the barrier islands, and Sarasota. If I had not recently moved away, my existence would have been under severe threat and all I took for granted would have perhaps been swept away along with my illusions of safety. My many friends in that area are at the forefront of my thoughts and I sincerely hope they are safe, even if their goods are not. One day you live in paradise, the next day in hell. It will take years to rebuild the damaged  communities and infrastructure and you will bury some of your neighbors along the way. Such is the temporal nature of our lives.

Overwhelming flash floods struck my homeland of Eastern Kentucky earlier this year. They classified it as a once in a hundred year flood event. I have no idea whether global warming is the root cause of any of this and I do not care to opine on the matter. I’ve seen strong arguments on both sides of the issue. What I do know, is the peaceful existence of thousands of people was washed away in a matter of hours. With little or no warning, many perished in the dark waters that rushed through their homes like a mad thief in the middle of the night. They went to bed in their personal version of paradise (hill people will understand what I mean) and either woke up to scenes of total devastation or did not wake up at all. A delicate existence.

The Bible says, and I paraphrase, “Beware when you think you stand, lest you fall.” People should refrain from getting too cocky. Your world can change anytime without notice. None is required, and often, none is given.

I just lost a dear friend, Bob, who died unexpectedly. We shared many a laugh, many a beer, and many adventures. The news shook my daughter who grew up best friends with Bob’s daughter. It was the second father of one of her best friends to have passed this year. It brought home the fragility of our families and friends and all we hold dear. It made her worry about her own father, me. I wish I could promise her I will be around for as long as she needs me, but I cannot. My wife and I lost our mothers within a few months of each other in the last twelve months. Realizing this, one would think we would treasure each other more, would you not? We continue to conduct our lives like we are immortal, while being perfectly aware that we are not. That is denial at its best, but when you think about it, what choice do we have? We should not live in constant fear either.

We fail to see how interconnected we are on many levels. How our welfare depends on the well-being of others. For example, people are running out of food in African nations due to the war in Ukraine. Who knew before this heinous war began that Ukraine was one of the world’s largest grain exporters and that Africa was heavily dependent on those shipments? When Russia invaded and blockaded their ports, it not only cripped the Ukraine economy, but it deeply affected those who needed the grain to survive. Fortunately, deals were later struck allowing grain shipments to start again, but probably too late for some of the poor souls who needed them.

Ukraine happens to be home to Europe’s largest nuclear power plant. In their infinite wisdom, Russia shelled the area around the power plant threatening to cause a meltdown and loss of radioactive containment. Of course, Putin denied it, but it is unlikely the Ukrainians launched missiles at their own reactors, or maybe they both did. I don’t know. Mankind’s capacity for stupidity seems to know no bounds. Our interconnectedness comes into play here once again. Should the containment and safety systems protecting this massive nuclear facility be compromised or destroyed, not only would there be power outages affecting millions of people during the coming winter, but a radioactive cloud would be released into the air as well. The crazy thing is, depending on the direction of the prevailing winds at that time, the cloud could descend on Russia itself, or it could travel throughout Europe causing health emergencies on a massive scale. Oh, how we like to play with fire and cause our tenuous existence to become even more fragile than it already is. I know most of us would not willingly take part in such insanity, but when you look at the world leaders, including those in our own country, it seems we have allowed the inmates to take over the insane asylum. 

So, we continue to hang by a thread…hoping it does not break. But, take heart my friends, the human spirit does hang on…and on…and on. It seems indomitable. We do the best we can with what we have most of the time and try to take care of one another for the most part. I see hope in our future…if the thread does not break first.

Take care of yourselves and one another.

Larry

Author Larry Hamilton Critical Mass and The Atlantis Codes