Let's go Watson; the chase is on"

Yossarian, in Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 screams accusingly, “They’re trying to kill me!” Clevinger (or maybe its Doc Daneeka) says, “They’re trying to kill everyone!” and Yossairan retorts, “What difference does that make?” They are going to get Yossarian in any case, singly or altogether.

Despite my hypochondriacal paranoia, I had a great run this morning, stronger and longer than in a number of months. And when I arose early—the usual 5:00am or so, I despaired of having the energy to tie up my running shoes. I have learned that there is certainly a physical component to health, and sometimes that physical element is almost beyond our control—but there is as well a psychological factor to health which cannot be minimized. A sense of psychological well-being which leads, in my case, to a desire to stay out there on the trail running, thinking, being in the moment that I am presently experiencing and enjoying. Reminds me of Thoreau’s artist of Kouroo.

Sometimes I am running in the morning silences, and I sense I am not alone. I hear things. Dylan speaks of this; he says, “I hear the ancient footsteps, like the motion of the sea, Sometimes I turn there’s somewhere there, at other times its only me.” I seek the times when there is someone there, and it’s a spiritual seeking. But we cannot plan those times. Dylan suggests to me that it is a rather mystical occurrence; somehow, we become receptive to a spiritual influx or presence, and we feel we are not alone. Perhaps this occurs when we are most free. And my dear Spinoza reminds me always, “The free man thinks least of all of his death.”

So yes, Yossarian, they are trying to kill us and yes, it doesn’t make any difference to me that they are trying to kill everyone, but there are times when I do think there is someone there, and then I have forgotten. And can run again.