Finding the Foe

The contest looms. The one for the plumbing between weather and man. And no matter how much we prepare and how much intelligence we gather, it somehow never seems enough. It is the worse sort of contest, not war, but a struggle of man against the rules and forces of nature. In a way it almost seems blasphemous; it makes the idea of predestination seem to hold some validity, for the opponent is aloof, unresponsive, adamantine. But somehow such a model of deity seems inadequate and insulting.

FD SCP says I obsess over much on this. But I have tasted failure too often on this field and am averse to its consequences. That is what is obsessed over, the consequences and their amelioration.

We have weathered similar conditions before. Last year. I don’t recall any earlier but my attention was more on getting to work than damage to home and hearth and heart. Is that change itself the entrance to the path of failure and disaster. Is this something better ignored and endured when it does occur than contended?

The question is largely unanswerable, at least potentially irrelevant. The change is irreversible, a thermodynamic phenomena like the shattered pipe. A better one is whether the mind will endure? Sometimes we have to relieve our mental pressures and stresses with physical action. The action does not have to be great, just plausibly relevant. And that is the challenge. Weather cannot really be contended with until we contend with ourselves.