Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt.
Fate leads the willing, the unwilling it drags.
Seneca the Younger, 50 A.D.
A heart attack is a deeply wounding event.
I have been struggling with this never-ending wound for more than a year, and still it haunts me by the hour.
A heart attack is also a deeply isolating event. Others act as if their lives will go on forever, but how can I participate in this charade, knowing deeply and irrevocably that any moment could be my last one? I identify much more with people who have terminal illness than with those who are caught up in the illusions and routines of everyday life.
In hopes of reducing this isolation and finding a way through this purgatory, I thought I would try to post a daily blog about the experience.
I am fascinated and struck by the story of Chiron, that mythical Centaur who had a permanent wound in his knee that would not heal. Here, in Puget’s painting, Achilles is being dragged by his rationality, his head, and it looks like there isn’t much he can do about it.
Not particularly wanting to be trahunted– to be dragged by fate –, I have to somehow find out just where this heart attack is leading me.