Contingency...

I've been thinknig about this word recently. I just had breakfast with a good friend and we talked about it at length. I don't think I've ever been to the High Spot Cafe in Madrona and not had a rich relational time. It's the first breakfast spot I ever went to in Seattle way back in 1993.

There is something so utterly contingent about being a human being. So utterly unpredictable and fragile - those words sound trite and cliche compared to the weight of this contingency. Yet the staggering lengths we go to (especially here in our safe little American culture) in hopes of stemming the tide of contingency are equally weighty, if not downright tragically comical. To think that if we order our lives properly, carefully, and with "integrity", we can avoid suffering, catastrophe and heartache is folly. We may be able to head off the more obvious risks by living a life committed to safety, security and to never suffering, but the consequences of such a life far outweigh the risks of truly living. All that to say, there is an inherent, unavoidable risk to being alive on this earth. With years like last year, this truth threatens to become a maddeningly ironic and dirty trick. I take one of the biggest risks of my life and fall on my head, my friend Clinton has two open heart surgeries with a 99% success rate fail, another friend is diagnosed with Thyroid cancer, unfathomable relational failures, people die in their sleep. My friend Paul said, "this year has kicked my ass more than any in my entire life." I'll drink to that.

However, this is shaping up to be one of the best years of my entire life. I'm coming to grips with contingency. Being alive will kick you in the ass. Being alive will eventually kill you. It is no use to pretend this isn't true anymore. I do not wish to suffer the bliss of a long, slow, time-released death. I will not go down without a fight. I will "not go gentle into that good night". - Dylan Thomas