Paradox

The day began uneventfully yesterday. By 10:00 a.m., though, it began to sour. It got progressively worse—first, mild discomfort, then significant discomfort, then pain, then intense pain. From there it went downhill. I won’t go into the unappetizing details. Suffice it to say I spent most of the day wide awake, but wishing I weren’t. I wanted to go back to bed and sleep, but that was not in the cards. Finally, late in the day, I was able to get back to bed. I slept late this morning. I think…hope…I’m on the road to recovery from a bad day, one that won’t repeat itself. Though I am not even close to 100% just yet, I believe I qualify as alive and fair. I am about 99% certain the flare-up is attributable to some of the medications I am taking as an adjunct to my chemotherapy. My next visit to the oncologist is Friday. I hope by then to look back on yesterday as a diminishing memory.

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This afternoon, during a period of being awake, I joined mi novia in watching a documentary (Famous Last Words), consisting of an interview with Jane Goodall. The interview was recorded in March of this year, using completely automated cameras and with only the interviewer in the room with her. Once the interview was complete, the interviewer left the room. Until the program aired earlier today, no one else had ever seen it. Though much of her spirituality, as articulated in her final words, is not mirrored mine, her comments and admonitions were extremely meaningful. I highly recommend this program…and I will go back to watch the program from the beginning, before I joined mi novia in the “TV” room. I think all of humanity needs to hear Jane Goodall’s “Famous Last Words.”

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I learned yesterday afternoon that an acquaintance and writing colleague of mine, Mary Lou Moran, died on September 19. When I moved to the Village in 2014, she was president of the writers’ club and was active with the group for years thereafter. She encouraged everyone she encountered to “share the story” of their lives, whether through fiction or memoir or some other genre that would enable to writer to express who was “in there.” I last saw her only a few months ago, when we agreed to get together “soon” to discuss writing and to offer one another encouragement. We did not follow up on that agreement. I offer my condolences to her family and friends.

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There’s not enough humor in this society in which we live, especially when humor is all we need to make it through the chaos. And there’s insufficient rage, when rage is what we require to achieve peace. Paradox may be unfortunate, but it sometimes is the only tenable option.