“There is no experience of death, only the fear of it.” Albert Camus
Well, I’ve missed you guys. I know it sounds really kind of like a lame admission. I wonder what it is like to have a following, to be famous, the opposite for yours truly. At the same time, I thought about the mind set of our Fuhrer. He reminds me of an experiment gone wrong.
I want you to imagine you can do anything you want and never be punished. Let’s say you wake up tomorrow and regardless of what you do, there are no repercussions, no broken law. You can rob a bank of millions and steal a Porsche and nothing can happen. DJT grew up believing he could do whatever he wanted, but there were always limitations, legal or otherwise. After all these years, his wish has come true, at least in his mind.
He is the most powerful person in the world and he is behaving that way, a brute with a huge bat and a very small mind. He is so self-absorbed, the idea of doing anything wrong is absent from his emotional vocabulary. He is the definition of selfishness on steroids. I don’t know how you can go through life and never think about anyone other than yourself, but he does.
You know, when you don’t think there are any limits is when you overstep them. I am not simply talking about the law, rather its about decent, humane behavior by the person who sets the standard. I am not sure the Democrats have the brains or guts to confront him and as luck would have it, he is going to do it all for us. Displeasure with his insane policies will finally begin decaying MAGA support, which is happening already.
You know, I have been looking at the above four paragraphs for a couple of days. I haven’t been sure where to go with it. This is how it has been with me for weeks now. I have been really motivated to share stories until recently, something I have written about already.
It would be easy to blame Trump for this impasse, but it is not true. You know how I can tell? When I sit here doing exactly what I am doing, it is an incredible source of comfort. It’s like my insides come alive. From where I am sitting right now, the view is pretty clear. I know what it is and I think I may have a solution.
My age is a subject I keep on coming back to and the chronology games can be pretty cruel. Over the years, I’ve written a lot about Zen. A big thing is about being in the moment. Now, it is not a hard concept to understand, which has nothing to do with the challenge of living it. Most of us live in a world of “What’s Next?”Rather than becoming conversant with how we are feeling right then, we feel the need to keep moving, an uncomfortable kind of impatience that preempts introspection.
No matter how busy we are and how many distractions push and pull us in all sorts of directions, it is those damn feelings that keep getting in the way. Communication is more than a person to person thing, far more than an external exercise. If you don’t look inside, you are more easily victimized by the world around you.
My upset with Trump has stepped on my internal toes, making maneuvering my feelings more difficult to discern. I have made the mistake of allowing what is going on in the world mask what is going on in my world. I guess you could say it is lousy timing.
Throughout our lives there are age milestones, usually embraced in a celebratory manner, always looking to the future. An adjustment is required as the future draws closer and closer. Today starts becoming more important than tomorrow and we either catch up with that fact or we begin to feel the rising tide of depression. In my case, the creeping crawl of hopelessness was forcing its way into my consciousness.
I remember a number of years ago, I wrote about quitting pot, which was kind of dumb, especially considering I was back at it a few months later. I am thinking of it now, as I am dangerously close to writing I have figured out what ails me and I am cured. This paragraph matters, because I am on the verge of doing it again. This time feels like it has a different weight to it, one that will stay with me, because it really matters.
I have worked toward this moment, an inescapable one. How do you come to terms with your mortality, especially when you are there mathematically? Let’s be clear when I say mortality, we are talking about our dying. I am not about to disrespect you or myself by searching for some lame euphemism. Forever, it has been like looking at some formless concept that can’t quite reach me. Well, it is here and it has made me a prisoner to fear and that is the goddamn truth.
Now, when I share that I have found an answer, it is not a solution or cure, because there is none. What I am talking about requires attention, because left unchecked, it feeds on itself. My brilliant revelation is to greet each day like it is my first, leaving my baggage far behind. I have gone from feeling terminally stale to being present. At this very moment, I have no smothering issues and I have no interest in looking for them.
The fact that I can write about stuff like this, doesn’t mean it is easy to pull off. My work is to take the cure everyday, because it comes up with terrible regularity. It’s like an age allergy. The symptoms are anxiety and the medicine is mindfulness.
I originally started this piece, worrying the page would stay blank. Writing about Trump can be very unhealthy, especially when your own fears are triggered and left unchecked. I decided early on I didn’t want to be just another strident voice, sharing his portrayal of fascism. His destructive inevitability dampened my creativity, because it would just keep getting in the way. I figured I’d get that whole thing out of the way up front, so I could share my personal conflict with chronology after those four paragraphs.
Thank you for your patience and compassion for a fellow traveler. Next stop : Next story.
LISTEN TO IT HERE:
https://www.buzzsprout.com/admin/1292459/episodes/18155671-a-fellow-traveler