“The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof. What I want is so simple I almost can’t say it: elementary kindness. Enough to eat, enough to go around. The possibility that kids might one day grow up to be neither the destroyers nor the destroyed. That’s about it. Right now I’m living in that hope, running down its hallway and touching the walls on both sides.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver
We may seek, too, a relaxing of inhibitions that makes it easier to bond with each other, or transports that make our consciousness of time and mortality easier to bear. We seek a holiday from our inner and outer restrictions, a more intense sense of the here and now, the beauty and value of the world we live in.” ~ Oliver Sacks
As stated yesterday, about yesterday, today is another day when mystery is going to have to be front and center. I’m strongly leaning toward cynicism these days. No, I don’t enjoy it, and I hope to see it pass away into the back of my mind before too long. Yesterday I saw a friend I haven’t seen in a while. In chatting I mentioned that I will have a brief housesitting gig in a few weeks, and that the house has a TV. I don’t have one at home so a little time watching is somewhat of a treat for me. My friend said “You’re not going to watch the news, are you?”. My reply was instant: “I’m a writer. Of course I’m going to watch the news!”. Ya reckon the news is the source of my cynicism? Sure it is. There is no lack of hope here. And having a spell of cynicism is likely good for the writer in me. My current project is fiction. Cynicism must be given it’s due, as should transcendence. As should many other qualities. All in the name of balance.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.