there are times i just know i shouldn’t have gone outside the boundaries of weather.com. this morning is one of those times.
i am once again reminded that there are better ways of communicating a message than rubbing your readers’ noses in the ugliness of the world today. i have a fine imagination, thank you very much, and i don’t need to subject myself to graphic descriptions or pictures of violence to understand the reality of it.
i got to the trigger for this post through a comment leading me to another post. (it's a crazy kind of web we weave here in the blogosphere.) i'm tempted to delete the comment. but the writer warns you in the beginning about what you're getting into.
however, censorship of any kind leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. i'll leave it up.
today it’s not worth paying attention to the spite and hatred that’s being passed around the internet, no matter how well it’s dressed up as logic and reason. i fear for the fate of the human race, when even intelligence and tolerance aren’t enough to break through barriers based on fear.
it’s not always like this. often you run across stories that offer hope in one form or another.
haven’t seen any recently. (haven’t been looking, either, which is likely my own fault.)
duckie’s fine. crazy, as usual. damn, but that child has a nasty temper sometimes. can’t imagine how she got it.
RB kept duckie last saturday and saturday night, giving brian and me some much-needed time to devote solely to each other. it’s hard to be good parents, to function as an effective child-rearing unit, when our own connection isn’t maintained. we had a lovely time.
things feel stable, more or less. face it, changes don’t happen conveniently. i’m never quite ready for them, not even the ones i can see coming, and certainly not the ones that jump out from behind the bushes.
i always wonder why i haven’t yet gotten used to change yet. after all, my body changes from day to day depending on the moon-governed cycle, and those changes have a dramatic effect on my mood and how i relate to the world.
for me, it’s a matter not just of letting go, but of refraining from the grasping instinct that’s so devilishly strong. i want to hold onto stability. when i'm in tree pose, i don't want to fall; i try not to, right? there's judgement - a negative one - when i lose my balance.
i rely on systems that don’t change – or that change as little as i can manage. (yeah, i know - figure the odds on maintaining a routine living in close quarters with a small child and a husband.)
it reminds me of that scene in apocalypse now* where the guy gets out of the boat against orders and ends up running into a tiger in the jungle, or something. i can’t remember right now. may have been a snake. anyway, willard’s voice-over continues in that creepy quiet monotone that martin sheen perfected for this movie: “Never get out of the boat. Absolutely goddamned right.”**
you break that routine, you’re getting out of the boat, and there’s no telling what’s out there. you might see a gorgeous, deadly, miraculous creature. it might eat you. it might just walk away. no telling.
i think that boat’s supposed to rock, though. you’re supposed to fall out occasionally. so you don’t get too used to feeling safe.
in any case, safety, in this world, is just an illusion - albeit a treasured one.
*there's a movie i won't ever be able to see again. file that with requiem for a dream, saving private ryan, we were soliders, and the pianist.
**apologies to those who have mentioned the use of profanity on this blog. in this case, i feel like censoring a quote from apocalypse now would be inappropriate and hypocritical.