Afflicted

Afflicted

New Zealand is supposed to be one of the safest places on earth. It consistently ranks on those travel website/magazine lists, thanks to geographic isolation, nuclear-free status, and low crime rate (no mention of the fact NZ is riddled with fault lines and sprinkled with live volcanoes). http://www.expatify.com/advice/10-best-places-to-live-for-escaping-world-conflict.html Anyways, I feel safe here.

But even a safe place has sand traps – benign pockets of silica that can ensnare you (such as NZ's 10,000/16,000 miles/kilometers of coastline). Before you know it, you're affected, or even worse – afflicted.

I may have caught something here. I'm sure it's not serious, because I've only had it a few days. These bugs can stuff you up, though. I know exactly where I got afflicted- in the middle of downtown Mt. Maunganui, on the sidewalk. It was dark, I'd had some wine, and maybe wasn't as cautious as I should've been. My big feet have a way of tripping me. Before you could say "Aotearoa" 10 times, fast, I was afflicted.

I've been afflicted just a few times before, mostly in my teens and 20's. I recognized the symptoms immediately. Maybe you've had them, too: racing heart, goose bumps, weak knees, watery eyes... Then there's insomnia. I'd struggled with wakefulness before my most recent affliction, but this is a different kind of mind-restlessness. Think Monkey Brain on crack, which exacerbates another symptom - inability to concentrate. I daydream. Stare at long white clouds. I've caught myself sighing out loud in my car, and while walking down the sidewalk. Don't tell anyone. 

 

The affliction can be embarrassing, especially for someone my age. I wasn't sure grown-ups got this stuff. Especially not grown-ups with 2 small children, a closet containing ashes and a garage holding baggage. Surely, I'm too old and too smart for this. I could've sworn I'd been inoculated. Makes you wonder – does the vaccine's power fade with time?

Today at Tay Street Beach, The Mount

Maybe I should "call a spade a spade." Ditch metaphor, "name and claim..." How do you comply with cliche when cliches don't fit? What if your spade's really a spoon or a bulldozer? I could call this a crush or the start of a fling, but neither seem right (I do, however, like the word my flatmate uses, which is "twitterpated"). I'm not Marcia Brady or Carrie Bradshaw. My script writers went on strike a few seasons ago (I'm pretty sure they're French - frequent strikes are de rigeur in France:).

Since whatever-it-is includes physical symptoms, I'm calling it affliction. A happy affliction, made sweeter by the fact I'm shocked as hell I'm afflicted at all.

Imagine you're a pilot, and your last aircraft crashed and burned. Somehow, you climbed out, scarred and alive, but your plane's gone. You're afraid to fly, and not sure if you could – or should - again. Wave goodbye to your pilot's license as it flutters to earth from 31,000 feet. You feared you were too old to pass the medical exam. Too cerebrally scarred to push or pull a yoke. Behind the controls again, I alert passengers to my history, and advise them I may not have the heart for a long ride.

Does an affliction "cure" drift on the edge of the Pacific's cerulean horizon? I don't know. I've heard there's not much you can do except wait. Affliction may last days, weeks, even months... You only get a single day, each day. No more, no less. 24 hours to embrace or avoid a moment that could be yours. Escape affliction, risk nothing, or accept and enjoy.

I haven't the will at the moment to escape. Sure, I could avoid known triggers: spicy food, red wine, chocolate, physical contact and Australian aboriginal techno music. I won't do that – not today. I'm like a bodybuilder who, for months, has been on a strict diet of chicken breasts, egg whites, broccoli and oatmeal. If, after the competition, you slide a plate of steak, onion rings and cheesecake under my nose, I'm likely to overindulge (I've witnessed this binge - literally – only the bodybuilder wasn't me).

I won't gorge on cheesecake (not my favorite), or even chocolate cake. I doubt that'll cure the affliction. I will listen to intuition, which tells me a racing heart and weak knees contribute to good mental health. I might crash again tomorrow, but at least I flew today.