Where do we go from here? One of the struggles we all face is that we don’t always get to determine what happens next. We are more frequently pushed across thresholds than we are carried across joyfully. Even when an invitation seems like a good idea at the time, once we’re involved we discover that we’re trapped, unable to go back. Neither do we all share identical experiences through the same time portal. One shuts down an office while another prepares for new life. We may look through the same window yet see different pictures. Is what happens to us next a good thing or will another 350,831 of us die?
Who am I to judge the guilt or innocence of another? Someone must, for there can be no justice without judgment. Am I impartial enough to hold another’s fate in my hands? We may never know, for once again, my service has been declined. What I do know is that justice, no matter how measured, is a highly opinionated beast. Are courts best suited to determine when one begins thinking and acting like an adult? Are schools best suited for religious indoctrination? A country run by criminals has little care for justice.
I look across the bed at the dogs sprawled out, sleeping; they are warm and well-fed. They are not aware of changes until they happen. A differently flavored treat is still a treat. Water outside apparently tastes the same as water inside. They are not bothered by incongruities or worried by idle threats. They do not care what I might cook next week nor how many presents I give next month. Neither do they look at my dwindling account balance and worry whether they’ll be fed. Their food has already been purchased. The dogs sleep blissfully unaware of my angst.
We have transitioned into being a country that champions criminals more than heroes. Perhaps that explains the election outcome. Our desire to see an underdog win outstrips our need for justice. We care less for the number of bodies left in their wake when we have already convinced ourselves that, on one level or another, they deserved to die. Knowing that the wizard has no real power does not keep him from being revered in Oz.
Stubbornly, I dig in my heels. There are thresholds I do not want to cross. Yet, how can I hold your hand if we do not step together? I cannot help those in danger if I’m left standing behind a closed door. I walk into the future not because I care for my own but because I care for those around me. The adventures we face are different than those behind us, but together, we both survive.
I have met my minimum word count. There’s coffee on the other side of the door. This threshold I walk through without hesitation.
Friday Morning Update: 12/06/24
Who deserves forgiveness? Who deserves protection? Why is Leonard Peltier still not on the list of those who may be pardoned? Your screams have been heard. Changes were made. Yet, are you any safer than you were at this time yesterday? What is the true benefit of being angry? If anger is the only thing that motivates us, do we genuinely care about the status of life or only the things that threaten us directly? If our motivations are not pure, then our actions are immoral. Still, we continue.
Vic saw the doctor yesterday and the patch was removed from his eye, leaving a shiner that might give some the impression that his long-suffering wife, Martha, clocked him. I told him it reminded me of the old Tareyton cigarette slogan: “I’d rather fight than switch.” You’ll need to be really old to understand why that’s funny. He’s still face-down until Sunday morning, too uncomfortable to sleep.
Oceans rise. Empires fall. Women struggle through it all. Children die—anger flares. Fear of chaos is everywhere. Do we care? I’m not sure we have the capacity. Who is not overwhelmed when considering the ills the world faces? There are limits in our willingness to fight for someone else’s life. Our own troubles are more than enough.
My bills exceed my income. To whom do I complain? I struggle with the morality of whether to ask for help. That doesn’t stop me from typing, Venmo: @C_I_Letbetter, CashApp: $ciletbetter. G brought me a form this morning to help with Xmas presents for the kids. They’ll be the boxes under the tree we don’t have. Cats and indoor trees don’t mix well. The dogs would be confused.
Perhaps, sometimes, it is better to do without. Are we eating too much chicken? Are we eating too much of everything? We are still the most obese nation in the world. We have difficulty saying ‘no’ to the grumble in our stomachs. A re-evaluation of what we spend on groceries may be appropriate.
As thousands travel to Indy this weekend, our patience will almost certainly be tested. Roads closed. Dining places are full. In return, money is spent, jobs are created. Is the tradeoff worth the trouble? Ask the one whose job depends on the crowd.
My head hurts. My eyes blur. There’s garbage to take out. I need more coffee.
I still love you. I still care.
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