A lot of snow is not required for lives to be endangered. Temperatures keep us huddled next to anything or anyone who is warm. Apologies were necessary as staples ordered while the sun was shining had to be delivered in negative conditions. Questions linger this morning with the possibility that buses will not deliver the kids to school on time.
While sitting in a waiting room, my coat and hat still in place, a man approached, distracted by my appearance. Standing before me, he said, “I just wanted to get a good look at you.” He took a seat nearby and continued. “Your look, it’s … what’s the word… ‘legendary?’ No, more like… ‘iconic.’ That’s it, you’re totally iconic.” A nurse called his name as I questioned the man’s mental condition. What are the motives behind compliments to strangers? Politics have taught us to question the subtext of the most simple and generous statements. Kind words are approached with suspicion. Our level of trust in fellow humans grows thin.
Actions speak volumes above words. Where one goes, what one does, shows more than character. What is one’s purpose? What motivates a soul to put their interests above others? Words can be a distraction. Actions tell no lies. Threats of what one might do are empty. Look instead at the steps they take, the people they hold close, and the rules they break. Do not stand so close as to become a victim of the shrapnel from other people’s lives.
Still, the words we choose are a reflection of our society. ‘Brain rot’ has become something more than a medical issue. Such language threatens to become a tool of racism. Vocabularies such as demure, slop, dynamic pricing, romantasy, and lore shape the context of who we are, the values we hold, and how one perceives their world. I question whether we weigh the weight of our words before we speak. Even when we fling terms and threats around with no regard, they can still cause damage when they land.
So many thoughts are filling my brain, yet few are worth the pain of typing. Time passes. Whether the page is made of paper or pixels, I still stare at the blankness and question how to fill it. Sometimes life is the same. How one chooses to fill the blank pages of their lives reveals their reality and the flaws of their mortality.
Sitting on my desk is a book I’ve yet to start that ultimately deals with the reality of the author’s death. I pick it up, open the cover, and then return it to the place on my desk from where it beckons to be read. Do I want to open myself to this conversation? Will pondering mortality shape my future reality?
There are cats demanding petting. There are meds waiting to be taken. There are naps hoping to be embraced. I do not care if the snow melts. I am here. I am warm. I do not long to wander.
Thursday Morning Update: 12/05/24
Wind does not whistle past my window; it trumpets, screams, and roars. Feral cats scurry for cover. Random debris blows across the yard. Each gust feels like ice. One coat is not enough. Sending children off to school in such cold feels like cruelty. ‘When I was a kid’ does not apply here. This is different weather. This is a new existence. Check in at the nearest heating vent, pull a blanket over your head, and sleep.
Vic’s surgery was “difficult but successful.” He is back home but doesn’t seem to be able to relax. The face-down position he’s supposed to maintain is not comfortable. He has to be that way until at least Saturday. He sees the doctor again today. His situation reminds us of our father’s struggles.
Is this 1968 all over again? We dismissed Lennon’s words the first time around. Revolution never came. The Constitution never changed. No one had a real solution. I hear the voices screaming in anger, but anger alone makes nothing better. Assassinating a CEO does not give anyone better healthcare. Shooting at helpless children does not remove the stain of religion. Committing acts of genocide does not justify one’s position.
Screaming about how bad things are going to be does nothing to stop ‘things’ from being bad. We all want to see a plan. Others have a plan. Where is ours? Who is going to lead? Who is going to stand at the front of the line and announce the charge? Be sure, the enemy has a plan; they’ve shown it to us. Over half of us voted for their plan. This is their revolution.
Even the best and most elaborate plans fail. People still die of hunger. Young men are still asked to give their lives. The least of us still struggle to survive. If you say you want justice, you must first show mercy. If you say you want peace, you must first show compassion. One does not merely speak change into being. One must act. Two must act. Together, we must all act. A movement of music might lead everyone to sing, but what motivates us to march?
Milking the cow is messy. The price of coffee continues to rise. Who decides if we should die?
A beautiful building does not make the mythology real. A paper report does not return lives lost to injustice.
Words are merely interruptions in the quiet of nature. What have you accomplished in sharing your memes? Whose life is improved when you express your outrage? We are not prepared to change anything if we are not comfortable with the sacrifices required. Would the Franks be welcome in your home? Would you destroy the infrastructure of the oligarchy if it meant no streaming service?
Do not give me more words. The noise in my head is already too great a burden to bear. Show me your action, your compassion, and your mercy.
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