Some days I yell at my consequences. Some days I smile at them.
I don’t sing in my shower (don’t want to wake neighbours or scare my dog), but I sing inside sometimes.
Lately I’ve been singing more.
Makes difficult things easier.
What angst this world must collectively harbour – what huge collective sighs we could utter if we could have seen our future, through a telescope pointed the other way – to show things smaller, finer, in greater detail!
For a moment to show us how concentrated, fragile and minute life can seem sometimes.
If we can see the reverse of things – inverse proportion of things – we might do things differently, thereby producing different consequences.
Whether waxing nostalgic about projects gone wrong, jobs lost, relationships failed or what we should have done differently to please now-dead parents or what we could have or should have done for our children, these debilitating self-messages have one common denominator – we can’t do anything about the past.
This morning I spent some time at a picture on my wall.
I moved it yesterday, to where I will see more often.
Charcoal drawing of me, by my daughter Krista.
Each time I look at it, remembering when we were close, wishing we were again.
Did I do enough?
If I could have done more, or different, what?
I was cautioned yesterday – not get my hopes up. My daughter Carla is worried I will be disappointed if Krista decides not to make an appearance at Christmas.
My hopes are always up.
I like them up.
Where else should I keep my hopes?
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: Gusta acting strange – seems to have appetite but not her usual temperament (maybe yesterday’s freakin-out when the smoke detector went off has something to do with that), 6C / 42F, clear, negligible breeze, overcast with an arch in the west …
Thank you Mark for your insights. Yes, sometimes being alone is a set of circumstances you didn't plan for. The choice comes after that. How do you form new futures - especially those you can't see or even formulate? Have a great Thanksgiving, DB, Calgary, AB