Chasing the Teumessian Fox

When the winter sky is clear, find the three stars that comprise the belt of the constellation Orion. Follow the angle of Orion's downward belt (opposite of the side that holds his shield) and the next very bright star you will come to is Sirius (yep, like the satellite radio mogul). Sirius is the primary star of the constellation Canis Major, the Big Dog. Up and to the left of Sirius is Procyon, the primary star of the constellation Canis Minor, the Little Dog.


In Greek mythology, the city of Thebes committed a terrible crime. As punishment, the gods sent a giant beast called the Teumessian Fox to prey upon their children. Now the Teumessian Fox had a mystical power, he was uncatchable. He endlessly terrorized the city until the Theban general, Amphitryon, devised a brilliant plan. He set the magical dog Laelaps loose in the city to chase the fox down. Laelaps was destined to always catch his prey. Zeus was troubled by the dilemma of an uncatchable fox being chased by an inescapable dog and so resolved it by tossing them both into the sky setting their contest to play out forever in the heavens. Voila! Canis Major and Canis Minor.

This, it seems, could be a metaphor for my life. Destined to catch what cannot be caught and so to chase forever the Teumessian Fox. Perhaps it would be easier if I could roundly define what is my Teumessian Fox, my uncatchable prey. After much wrestling with this idea and grappling with the question, "what is it that I'm chasing?" I come, I think, to at least one answer: perfect completion.

There is always another deadline. Time is a cruel taskmaster with little respite for the weary or the grace for those who flounder under her weight.

There is always another expectation. The more you accomplish, the higher your level of performance the more that is expected of you in subsequent efforts.

There is always another need. If every hurt of the world today were met another would greet the dawn of tomorrow.

There is always more to know. There is always more to experience. There is always more to have.

This is what makes existence life, right? It's the American dream. Strike that. It's the world dream, the pursuit of happiness. Even in chasing we ourselves are pursued by a relentless sense that we ought to be able to catch and hold what we chase.

Tonight I am tired of myself and my own inability to measure up. If I could outrun myself and be alone without myself for a few blissful moments I would revel in the delight of purely, simply being. How disheartening to find that even in sleep I dream and am there as complex and dynamic a character as ever in waking. There at least I seem to know my lines, but life is an improv.

And so I wonder, am I Laelaps or the Teumessian Fox? The pursuer or the prey? And will this dead heat chase ever end or is it only in being flung into the vastness of eternity that completion is achievable?