“As thus she turns her wheel of chance
with haughty hand,
and presses on like the surge of
Euripus's tides,
Fortune now tramples fiercely on a
fearsome king,
and now deceives no less a conquered
man
by raising from the ground his humbled
face.
She hears no wretch's cry,
she heeds no tears,
but wantonly she mocks the sorrow
which her cruelty has made.
This is her sport.
Thus she proves her power.
If in the selfsame hour one man is
raised to happiness,
and cast down in despair,
it is thus she shows her might.”
—from
Book 2, Poem 1
There
are two frantic feelings in my life that I have found to be almost overwhelming in
their power. These are the desire to possess, and the despair from loss. Each
of these has come very close to destroying me entirely, and what makes it all
the more frightening is how easy it is to allow myself to be swept away by them.
In
either case, it is the hand of Fortune that has both tempted me with what I
crave, and left me empty-handed from its loss. I try to blame Fortune, of course,
but she is simply playing her part. I might as well ask a fish not to swim. No,
I chose to follow her, and to depend on what she offered, and I can hardly
complain or be angry when it is taken away.
The
Wheel of Fortune is one of the many profound images in the Consolation. As it turns, some of us are at the top, some at the
bottom, some rising, some falling. We might be dismissive of another’s
position, or we might be envious of it, but it will soon be different, because
Fortune is, by her very definition, always changing. The wheel is constantly in
motion, and riches become rags, fame becomes infamy, health becomes sickness,
and power becomes weakness. Then it turns again.
I find
it quite telling that in the Middle Ages, the Wheel of Fortune was always a
stark reminder to never rely upon circumstances. Now, we only think of it as an
amusing game show that can make us rich.
When I
was younger, I remember there were two kinds of pop songs that were most
common. The theme was either the joy of falling in love, forever and ever, or
the pain of a broken heart, never to love again. I would hum along carelessly
to all of them, and then each of these things happened to me, and I viewed the
songs very differently.
I
realized how much of it revolved precisely around what happened to me, whether it was getting or losing
what I wanted. Notice how we speak of falling
in love, or having our hearts broken by
someone. Making the value of love circumstantial is just another aspect of
letting Fortune pull our strings.
Fortune
will indeed lift me up, and she will cast me down. She will take pleasure in
seeing me laugh or cry, depending on her mood. And there’s the rub. I have made
my happiness contingent on her whims, and I have surrendered my choice to her.
I need
to find my way out of that dependence, and turn to something stable.
Written in 7/2015
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