Blink, four weeks.

Perched on the edge of a poorly-constructed 'oak' chair, sipping mud (as usual) and supporting a large coffee shop that does not need supporting, it is time to write again.

I often hear people say that they are too busy to think about things. I have seen relationships failing in which the issues get 'slid to the back burner' for months or even years due to the tedium and relentless procession of life. I used to think it was bullshit, a scapegoat for the refusal to internally cope with challenges. I am now eating my words; there is some validity to it. Life can actually crank up the intensity enough to drown out your internal thoughts and perspective. Labeled: drone.

I am busy. I am busy, like sun-up to well beyond sun-down busy, and although I am handling things fine I recognize that I am nearing the apex of my abilities... the utmost pitch of a roof that slopes drastically on the other side. I do not search for this; I do not spot a spare 20-minutes in my day and procure additional projects to keep me busy. These things happen, especially to over-achievers like myself, and the challenge lies in prioritizing and setting some personal parameters.

But I digress, I have a point that I want to make today, right now. I have not fully digested Jason's death and its significance... How? What is my excuse? See paragraph one: full-throttle schedule equals a mindless drone that does not progress emotionally. I look back at the three weeks since Jason's death in awe and horror, amazed and terrified that I so easily bury myself in my own world. My own world: much of which is irrelevant and skewed in regards to what Jason's death showed us all.

I am still sad and feel much guilt about Jason's death. I am feeling the typical post-mortem regrets of wishing I had spent more time with him, more rides together, more deep conversations, more appreciation of his character. But I am also facing a lot of grief over the present tense. Speaking to my counselor, she pointed out the shame we often feel for appreciating the good things in life and relishing in one's accomplishments... when deep down we feel obligated to grieve and dwell on the void created by a friend's death. That evokes a slew of unanswerable questions related to magnitude and duration of sadness. How much should it affect me, and for how long? Must I feel terrible that things are going well for me? Should I bow my head in a moment of reflective sadness each time I am rewarded a personal achievement?

It is easy to say "No, embrace it, Jason would have wanted it that way." Easy to say but not to believe. It is a hard balance to find: focusing on ourselves and our goals to continue progressing, but maintaining the lucid and radiant memory of a lost friend and the impact made in your life. Too much egocentrism and the memory fades, too little and you stall, which your departed companion surely would not want. If anything I am feeling too egocentric. In the past three weeks I have done little to honor his memory... even if that itself is vague and nearly indefinable.
There you have it, I am mired internally between moving forward and respecting the past. Are things going well? Hell yes. Do I miss Jason? Well yeah. What is the proper way to progress, what is the typical time frame? Questions, unanswerable.