Why Do We Do It?

Sometimes in chronic illness we show up to class looking like a junky because we haven’t slept in too many days and we need something–anything–to reignite our will to live despite how hard our body is trying not to. We have to pull out the big gun busy toys to distract our Service Dog from his incessant alerting just so we can at least take notes on the lecture to go back and read later since nothing is being absorbed real time. But we do it. 

Why do we do it? Because I’ve been a Christian my whole life, and last night in a class focused around Biddhusm, I learned that there was an entire period in history that Christians were divided between positions–”that Christ consisted of two distinct persons, one human and one divine” and “the rival ‘monophysite’ position, that Christ was the eternal Divine Logos, incarnate as a human being.” Where was the Trinity? I dunno, but I’m gonna keep showing up to find out.

Why do we do it? Because last week I learned that at one point in the mid 1900s, General Motors had more officers in their private police force than all but the five largest city police departments in the country. Why? Like. Why? I need to know.

Why do we do it? Because three of my classes have asked me which of the three branches of the United States Government holds the most power. My answer changes with every textbook chapter we read. What does that say about the way were were set up? I think that was the intention?

Why do we do it? Because I am REALLY bad at Economics. Really bad. And I cannot afford to miss that lecture. 

We do it because fighting through the pain, the nausea, and the fatigue is worth it for the prospect of learning something mind blowing, world shifting, or thought provoking. I haven’t given up on the idea that I can still make an impact on this world despite my body being a less than stellar vehicle to get around in. So I’m gonna keep turning her engine over until she starts up each morning and gives it her best go. Charge her battery, give her some gas, and hope she keeps making it to the next stop along the way.

2 thoughts on “Why Do We Do It?

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