Every life has a pattern. Whether of a logical progression; a life based upon personal failures resulting from passions unresolved; one of pure selfish pursuits; another of enmity, always with a chip on one’s shoulder; or of a zigzagging life, always traversing across wide expanses of empty plateaus, never touching the same field twice. It is like the pattern one achieves in playing the Game of Go — that Chinese conundrum of a game, adopted and perfected by the Japanese, where the pattern of white against black in dominating the territory constrained by the squares on a board — and yes, when the entire board is filled, the distinctive patterns created by the white oval pieces in contrast to the black oval pieces, reveals the pattern of a person’s life. You can tell — read — the frustrations, passions, feelings, thoughts, emotions and even psychosis, of the players based upon the patterns created. The one who hugs the edges; the other, attempting to dominate the middle; both, creating stoppages and attempting to subvert the two “eyes” of every pattern in order to prevent the unconquerable string of oval stones on the intersecting lines of a Go Board. The Zigzagging Life is the one most of us lead — without logic; without purpose; but just to survive for another day, to place one more stone upon an in invisible line of intersecting — but never encountering — life of emptiness. For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, and who believe...

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