"... As today's need for immediate gratification has been chipping away at the solid foundation of middle class values, creating a chasm between the ‘haves and have nots’ for many years (Think Rome or not so far back or picture The 99%' in France, rioting and cheering while the guillotine severed the heads of the rich.), makes me question whether denial make us think ourselves immune.
It’s as though we're piloting a crop dusting plane that can’t stop releasing the poisons of greed across the land. If the compelling nature of our nation's Midas touch doesn't open its eyes to dark storm clouds collecting, directly overhead, in time to shift gears, we're bound to clip our wings and spiral out of control into a catastrophic downhill spin, really soon.
*Once upon a time, we'd lived not far from Tom Sneva, who'd said, ‘The wall always wins'. As a champion race car driver, Tom was referencing racing cars, spiraling out of control, smashing into walls, exploding into flames. Bale. Bale. Bale. On the other hand, we have Wall Street's CEO's, flying out of control in private planes or sailing their yachts, filled with friends, to mansions, fancied throughout the world. And once again, we hear—Bale! Bale! Bale!—while The 99% wail and rail to no avail. While watching Clooney and Trump declare: 'You're fired!', we're relieved to see no bread lines—as of yet. No statements like: 'Feed your family cake.' (Which, by the way, is one of many misperceptions, which I'll bring to your attention, because Marie never uttered those words Those words were attributed to her in an underground rag, penned by a brother-in-law who'd wanted to take the monarchy down—and not realizing himself in the same boat, he went down with the ship, as well!)
The wall I reference, repeatedly, is not unlike each of theirs. While pointing to others, the wall of denial blinds us to our own loss of emotional control. Denial confuses basic needs of survival with the thrill of feeding extravagant wants at supersonic speeds—regardless of what may be lost in the bargain. I'm not just referencing material wealth. I'm referencing friendships, hollowing out, as well.
I watch people point fingers and fling blame at the hearts and minds of others with the same haste as a relay runner passes a wooden baton that’s caught fire. And passing the buck has to stop, because the people we’re burning are the ill, whose insurance won’t cover necessary tests, hospital stays, physical therapy; the overworked, who need two incomes to make ends meet; the aged, who'd cared for us in our youth; and most especially—our kids—who depend upon common sense to role model emotional maturity during life’s hardest times. (Whew! Don't even get me started!) *In recent years I've been referring to common sense as uncommon sense, because it proves to be so rare ..."
"Annie, you write for hours, every day. Doesn't your mind need a rest?"
"Seriously? Well, yes, I do need more rest during times of confusion. Who doesn't? But once clarity is mine, I sleep solidly at night. And peace of mind is worth the work.
In keeping with 'one thing leads to another', here's what inspired my desire to write to grow so strong: Upon looking back, I think my mind has grown more active in compensation for everything my body hasn't been able to do for many years. During the years when I was able to drive farther distances (and tote my materials around the valley) to teach or play tennis or walk with my friends, I'd spent less time reading and writing, more time, playing, listening and speaking.
As years passed and my condition grew worse, I'd felt frustrated by all I couldn't do. So, my persona ignored levels of pain, climbing behind my wall of denial, and as a natural consequence of ignoring reality, I'd end up in bed for long spells.
Today, I choose to spend more time reading and writing rather than running around and talking to people, who are also out and about. It's never been my habit to turn on the TV during the day, and I can feed the teacher in me by sending whatever I learn into cyberspace without straying too far from my house. When much of the nonsense I hear offends my ear, my mind feels inspired to express trains of thought, which gain in clarity as I write one post after another, day by day. So if you ask what compels me to sit down to write my way toward deeper insights into life, every day, here's what I'd say: I've found that while embracing a quiet life, which takes good care of my body, my spirit feels well nourished by absorbing information that makes good sense of nonsense. Then, by passing on what I learn my sense of productivity remains well fed, as well. And you know what 'they' say: Love your work and you'll never work a day in your life."
And as that sets us to laughing, again, that's quite enough for today ... Hmmm—in case I wrote that thought a post or two ago, please bear with me. I know that certain thoughts pop out of my mind, again and again. I also know that if there's one thing I am in need of but do not have—as of yet—it's an editor ...
J
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