MOBY DICK;: OBSESSION

"The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents' bed, unerringly I rush! Naught's an obstacle, naught's an angle to the iron way."    -- Herman Melville, MOBY DICK. 

This is from one of Ahab's extraordinary soliloquies, extraordinary not only because it's Shakespearean in quality but because it reveals Ahab's insight into him-self. In a sense, he's doubly cursed - with the misery of his obsession with the white whale and also with his utter clarity about his helplessness before it. "I am demoniac, I am madness maddened...grooved on iron rails..."  This madness will literally drown him, take down his ship, the Pequot, and all of his crew except Ishmael who alone is left to tell the tale. 
     To be in the grip of obsession is to be powerless and locked away from the world. It's to be a dog pulled on a very short leash, not only jerked forward but jerked anywhere the obsession chooses to take us. It's to be run on cold harsh iron rails that thunder through any obstacle and prevent any diversion. "Run" is more than a metaphor. In the midst of obsession, we are driven by a force that seems to come from outside and eats up our will. We completely lose ourselves. 
     There are some positive obsessions: the scientist in search of an answer, the artist driven to express something she may not even know she is trying to say. We admire these "creative" obsessions, though you hear many stories of solutions coming only after taking some kind of break - doing a crossword, going for a walk, falling asleep.  Ahab's suffering is of a whole different order. He's caught on rails he knows are leading him to destruction. 
      There may be some people who haven't felt some version of this, but I'm not one of them. I've been obsessed and I know what it feels like, the relentless need to focus over and over again on the object of obsession to the exclusion of everything else. I've felt the desperation that is part of obsession and the misery that comes from feeling powerless to get out from under its iron grip. 
     Over the years, though, I've learned a few things about how obsession works in me. I've learned what it feels like in my body - my pulse races and it's as if there's a motor revved up inside me, grinding with an intensity that tears at my chest and throat. When I remember to focus on those symptoms (which is no easy thing, by any means), I'm taking a step back, turning my attention from the object of obsession to the feelings it produces in me. That step creates distance been myself and driven thoughts of obsession. It begins a process of rediscovering my ability to choose my thoughts and focus, and to let go of an object I was so desperate to have.  
     As I've gone through the process time and time again, I've become more able to recognize when I'm beginning to get on those iron rails and how to help myself get off. But I don't think I'll ever be free of the possibility of being driven to have something I believe I absolutely need to have. I'm human and the mind wants an object to keep it busy. The miracle is that, through experience, I've learned I can watch that busy mind and work to let it go.