Hack or pack

brianlux

Hack or pack- my favorite Henry Rollins line. I like it better than "just do it" although a friend suggested that maybe "hack, pack or get help" might be even better. Today, for me, having been in counseling and having taught and worked in counseling and knowing what I need to do, it comes down to this: hack or pack. My problems are my unusual pain and anxiety only more so today and I could let them dominate me and hide and be useless- and sometimes that's what I choose do- but today it's hack.

I'm guessing some of you have some physical, psychological or emotional issue going on- most of us do, right? This is a great place to go when you have no where else to turn or you're s.o. and friends have heard it all a few too many times. I think about this stuff often times when I check in here at the forum because it's a great place to give and get support from friends far and wide and I've seen good people here do great things for others. Thumbs up to you all.

Carey

I agree, so many great people on the forum to turn to. And it seems many of us have our own stuff to 'hack' as well. Good luck to you with your challenges!!

DS1119

I've never heard the term hack or pack. I like it.

brianlux

Here's a great inspiring story (something that reminds me of what Henry Rollins once said, "Hack or pack") about one of the greatest giants of jazz, tenor saxophonist Coleman Hawkins, that I recently read in Nat Hentoff's excellent book, LISTEN TO THE STORIES:

"In his notes for the Time-Life Coleman Hawkins set, John McDonough tells how this enormously independent , proud musician- who always kept hearing into the future- handled his last battle. In 1969, ailing, Hawkins had insisted in keeping all his commitments, and one day in May, a colleague came by to pick Bean [Hawkins nickname] up for a gig.

'He knocked on his door and waited. He heard sounds inside, but no answer. After a few minutes he called a security guard, who came up and opened the door. Inside they found Hawkins with his hat and coat on, unable to stand but crawling across the living room floor toward the door, dragging his horn behind him.'" (page 44)