2003-05-22 1:35 pm

Snailshell

Snail shells need to be reinforced. They are strong enough to protect the snail from inclement weather, acorns and short drops. But they are certainly not strong enough to bear the weight of a postman's trolley.

What does it matter if I am tired? I thought to myself today. What is the difference between being exhausted and full of energy? One sensation is less pleasant than the other, but pleasure is no reflection of merit. This is what I asked myself - whether or not it is better to be refreshed or exhausted. Because my job exhausts me, and often I find myself hating the exhaustion, thinking of it as an affliction.

Tolstoy said that it is impossible for a man who is not working to feel happy, because he will always be thinking about the work he should be doing. Perhaps this is one of those instances when a writer attributes to humanity in general his own habits and psychology, but I think his idea applies to more people than one might think. Even lazy people are not necessarily happy that they are lazy, and most of them, I imagine, will wish that they were hard-working: and this is exactly what Tolstoy was talking about. I admire work, I respect it, I see that it is a good thing, and there is nothing better for clearing away doubts and insecurities. But I still cannot bring myself to work hard.

It may have something to do with larger things. That I have no ambition (except one - and I do work at that). That I often suffer from a sort of melancholia that prevents me from thinking clearly about myself and my position. This melancholia seems part of who I am to such an extent, and has arisen through my own rational view of the world, that I cannot seek treatment for it without compromising my own sense of self. I do not want to be talked into being happy, or treated into being happy. If life itself cannot make me happy, or if I cannot make myself happy in life, then I will be unhappy, and so be it.

But I could do with a shell made of sterner stuff than this.

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