It’s that time of year where so many seem to feel compelled to make best of lists and recount the past twelve months . . . not so much. Besides the fact that time is an artificial and arbitrary construct, measuring the heft and weight and meaning of anything … let alone a swath of “months” – is a fool’s game.
I did go to the gym yesterday. I did spend an hour on various cardio machines, monitoring my heart rate, and I visited some weight machines as well, sat in the sauna – blessedly alone and quiet – and then came back here to my house-sitting gig, hung with Judah, wrapped myself in a blanket and read, sipping wine.
Sometimes I worry that I don’t have more of a drive to get out, to go out, to be with people. Other times, when I am longing for people, I worry that I am not more contented when alone. In between those poles, I sit comfortably in myself and realize that I am who I am and it is what it is, and wondering, pondering, worrying and trying to parse it all is – most often – a waste of the is-ness of it. Just be where you are, who you are, when you are, here, going.
So, in less than 24 hours I will be in New York City for the first time in a very long time. I will be seeing a matinée of “The Glass Menagerie” and in the evening, the final Broadway performance of “Big Fish: The Musical” which stars a young man who grew up and first trained and performed here in this area.
It seems people are curious to know what I think about this year in movies and books (congratulation to anyone who managed to make one) and marriage equality (I don’t particularly think government or religion should be involved in personal relationships to any degree) and most recently the whole bigoted speech gets suspension from reality television show and then protests get bigoted speechifier re-instated (this is not a surprise, really, is it?).
Listen, here’s what I think, not that what I think should matter to anyone. I want to live in a world where no one wants a gun, where no one feels the need to shoot, where no one considers that harming another is ever an answer to anything. I don’t particularly want to live in a world where that has to be legislated. I want to live in a world where belief in a higher power is never used as a battering ram or excuse to deny the humanity and beauty of others, and where it is acknowledged that belief in a higher power has nothing to do with being a decent, moral person. I don’t particularly want to live in a world where the need to parade one’s beliefs to prove one’s morality seems to be a requirement, but, rather, want to live in my world where no matter the sound and the fury and the shape and the shots and the shit and the whatever comes from someone, I believe that they are the same stuff as me and doing the best they can with what they have.
Sometimes I am right, sometimes wrong. Sometimes I am smart, sometimes dumb. Sometimes I get hurt, sometimes I hurt. Sometimes I am wise, sometimes idiotic. Sometimes I am empathetic to a degree almost psychic, sometimes totally out of touch with what others are thinking and feeling.
I’ve less and less interest anymore in debating and attempting to shape the zeitgeist or fulfill the “should” and “ought” and expectations of a world I believe to be – mostly – dizzyingly out of touch with its source of Love and Light. I am happy to let everyone else debate and argue and spew vitriol. If I don’t like what is said, I won’t listen. Turn off the tv. Don’t go to the movie. Don’t read the book. Don’t invite them into your home.
But rather than denigrate those with whom we disagree, wouldn’t we all be better off if we spent our limited lives and energy loving and celebrating those with whom we get along? Build a world that way.
I still believe, in the end, Love and Light will out.