And so it goes…

Today is my late sister’s birthday, a day I’ll always cherish as a moment to remember all that was good about her. When she died on February 19, 2010, the world lost a beautiful soul, someone who modeled real-world decency and demonstrated the kind of indignation the world needs. I wrote about her, shortly after she died,

She fed people she didn’t know, she gave up her bed for people who needed to sleep, she battled the IRS and Social Security Administration for people who couldn’t on their own, but desperately needed an advocate…She was, in many ways, the Molly Ivins of our family; she gave people hell if they deserved it, especially when they had mistreated someone else…the underdog was her pet!

That was so true. And her compassion for people who lived near the bottom rung of the economic ladder was founded on real-world experience, not simply on observation. She was poor, from the perspective of money and pecuniary matters. But her wealth of kindness and humanity was breathtaking in its humility. She was no gentle saint; she cursed a blue streak and soundly condemned the heartless rich, hoping they would experience the torture they deserved. Yet her tender compassion for people in need was stunning.  So, November 2 is a day of remembrance. A day that reminds me how vitally important compassion, coupled with indignation and furious anger, can be. I remember you, Mimi, and always will.

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I wish I were even fractionally as good a person as my sister was. But I don’t have the core of pure decency in me. I’m too much like the people my sister detested; people who were all talk and little to no action. It takes courage—bravery may be a better word—to face the world the way she did. Too few of us possess that trait. Instead, we talk about action instead of taking taking it. Our righteous indignation is safely ensconced behind the walls that protect us. We are careful to protect ourselves before we offer our protection to others who really need it. Ach! I’m sometimes embarrassed to be a member of the fringe elements of the human race.

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Yesterday began as a very, very tough day. I don’t know why it started that way, but it did. Soon thereafter, though, I felt the the love of friends embrace me. And it helped me emerge from a dark, dark place. There is no substitute for real empathy and compassion and love. Those healing resources seem to be especially helpful to someone like me; someone whose exasperating fragility is both unseemly and embarrassing. Even in light of that awkwardness, though, virtual hugs feel like love should feel; comforting, safe, and authentic.

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Sometimes, I think I may have problems with depression. That is, in spite of the fact that I usually am pretty “up,” I tend to ride a roller-coaster of often painful emotions that swoop downward at warp speed, briefly almost touching the ground just before they veer sharply upward. Just before they would otherwise crash in a fiery explosion. Yet they never get quite so out of control that they fail to put on the brakes. It’s as if I am faking it; acting as if I am in free-fall, while actually just playing the part of a stunt double. I wonder if that’s actually what’s happening. I’m behaving as if I’m in excruciating pain, only to suddenly flip a switch to reveal that I’m almost giddy, instead. It’s odd to wonder about such things. You’d think I would know, definitively, which it is: am I really on the edge sometimes, or am I playing a part? It’s maddening to even think it. It’s more than maddening; it inspires anger at myself for not being able—or willing—to tell the difference.

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This morning’s weather will be chilly and damp; maybe even wet from time to time. Despite that forecast, I predict today will be a good day. A superior day. A day in which grey clouds are braided with invisible sunlight to create a warming, life-affirming blanket. I like the sound of that.

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Yesterday, my IC and I drove by a house—very deep in the woods—that we instantly fell in love with. No mountain views, no lakefront, no golf course, but something about it was extremely appealing. Perhaps it’s the fact that the place is hidden deep in an empty area; on a flat, leaf-laden cul-de-sac. Whatever it is, we hope to be able to take a first-hand look at the place very soon. Who knows? Maybe we’ll jump on it. Or maybe not. Whatever happens happens. For some reason, I have this strange fantasy about walking naked in the woods, as if I were just as wild and unencumbered as the deer and raccoons and squirrels. I doubt I will do it, but it is an appealing thought, nonetheless.

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After finishing Squid Game last night (the morality tale grew on me), we began watching Goliath. I can tell already that I like Goliath. It’s a little formulaic for my taste (in terms of the lawyer’s character), but I like it, nonetheless. I suspect it will become one of those series that holds me spellbound and that I will mourn as the end of the series draws near.

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When I got out of bed this morning, just a few minutes shy of 5, I thought I might crawl back under the covers. But I didn’t. And I’m glad I decided to put on my casual morning clothes, rather than remain casually indecent. Flip flops, sweat shirt, and sweat pants are comfort clothes when the weather is just right. After last night’s lightning and whistling winds, his morning’s casual morning clothes seem just right. They are ushering in what I believe will be a satisfying day, rife with hugs and embraces and smiles and so forth. Let the day continue!

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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