Mapmakers
Stand in the middle of a galaxy of possible outcomes. Look back at the constellatory path that brought you here. Marvel at the unconnected stars ahead.
It’s a lot of pressure or no pressure at all depending on who you are: the choices and their consequences can be paralyzing, or the scale of the universe can render any responsibility comically small.
Either way, find release where you can without hurting anyone or anything else.
Be responsible with the things you are allowed to decide. Focus on the things you can control.
An aside: the control thing is actually something I came up with as a psychological safety in case I get buried alive or locked in a morgue drawer, Adrien Brody-style. I think I might be able to calm myself for a while by stretching my smallest extremities (fingers, hands, feet, toes) as far as possible—to give myself the sensation that, at a certain level, I have some freedom and that a small space is just another layer of confinement on top of the myriad other layers with which we already confine ourselves. Maybe this is also meant to convince myself that the difference between the comfort of being swaddled as a baby and the panic-inducing discomfort of being trapped in a coffin is simply a matter of (extreme) perspective.
Anyway, we each have a measure of control. Past that, we’re just casting lines into the future. The maps we make for ourselves are based on what we’ve seen, see and think we see. We’re laying hopeful roads into a fog.
[digital version / physical versions]
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Mapmakers
Stand in the middle of a galaxy of possible outcomes. Look back at the constellatory path that brought you here. Marvel at the unconnected stars ahead.
It’s a lot of pressure or no pressure at all depending on who you are: the choices and their consequences can be paralyzing, or the scale of the universe can render any responsibility comically small.
Either way, find release where you can without hurting anyone or anything else.
Be responsible with the things you are allowed to decide. Focus on the things you can control.
An aside: the control thing is actually something I came up with as a psychological safety in case I get buried alive or locked in a morgue drawer, Adrien Brody-style. I think I might be able to calm myself for a while by stretching my smallest extremities (fingers, hands, feet, toes) as far as possible—to give myself the sensation that, at a certain level, I have some freedom and that a small space is just another layer of confinement on top of the myriad other layers with which we already confine ourselves. Maybe this is also meant to convince myself that the difference between the comfort of being swaddled as a baby and the panic-inducing discomfort of being trapped in a coffin is simply a matter of (extreme) perspective.
Anyway, we each have a measure of control. Past that, we’re just casting lines into the future. The maps we make for ourselves are based on what we’ve seen, see and think we see. We’re laying hopeful roads into a fog.
[digital version / physical versions]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lx9ikkq2aA1r8mpqdo1_r1_500.jpg)
