A Disturbance in the Force

I think anytime you can resurrect Nietzsche in a conversation, you probably should.

After a challenging week dealing with the tribe (to Nietzsche the "tribe" represented the collective set of norms that one was called on to conform to) and several rather irritating tribal members, I found myself sitting in my racing sim rig on a Friday evening looking for a rhythm to develop while running lap after lap on a new track. That rhythm was proving difficult to find, partly due to the 16 ounce Scotch Ale I had guzzled earlier hoping to calm some of the ambient irritation that had pervaded the week.

But, finding that rhythm promised to be as much a salve to ease the week's quota of irritation as the beer that was proving to be a contributor to the difficulty in finding it. Sometimes, muddling the senses a bit too much can be counter productive. Moderation is everything (or maybe everything in moderation.)

Eventually, over the course of about two hours, a rhythm began to develop.

Maybe the alcohol began to wear off.

Maybe, the repetition began to pay off.

But, as the mental image of the track became clearer, the braking points became more consistent and the racing line began to gel, the effort to maintain the rhythm grew less and less. The internal mantra of the lap became stronger and stronger and the beginnings of a calm replaced the irritation.

I honestly don't know whether that calm represents a distraction from a day to day reality - or a return.

But, I do know I got faster and faster in my simulated reality.