I can’t imagine what it’s like to shoot a gun at another person. I can understand why sometimes it happens. Not saying that’s good. Just saying that I understand why it happens. I think there has to be different ways to experience that. A variety of circumstances under which one finds themselves sending a message that can’t be retrieved.
Lately I’ve been watching Ken Burns’ piece about Vietnam. He captures many first-hand accounts. It contains, among other things, a pattern of stories about taking the life of the enemy. These aren’t the kind of stories that make you think, “Man, I’d love to be that guy.”
I can see why some went to Woodstock instead.
Because it has got to be terrifying to be shot at. I’m not sure I can really appreciate what that must be like as rarely have I had survival as my only interest. It must compress your perspective instantly down to only the essentials.
It’s not the kind of thing I ever want to get comfortable with.
But it’s an interesting exercise to entertain. Strip away the bit about shooting at other people and those same people shooting at you. Keep the part about recognizing your mortality and that it could be stripped away at a moment’s notice. Because that really is the case.
We all know this.
We could do a number of things with this knowledge, couldn’t we?
I’m using it to stay present to what matters.
What are you doing with it?
