Happiness Doubled By Wonder
I have a minor cold, just a little congestion and cough, but I’ve already traced my steps and assigned blame. This is somehow important to me.
There’s a collective sense up here, apparently, that the weather changed suddenly, and I think that’s right. Summer lingered in a perfectly normal but still lingering way, and then wham. The days seemed a lot shorter and a whole lot darker, water fell remarkably from the sky, winds blew, leaves scattered, and something wicked this way came. It just caught us a little off guard. That was a pretty nice summer we had.
And I don’t want to write about anything, which happens.
I’m tempted, though. With all that’s going on in the world, I have some guilt for letting my focus wander. There’s nothing much I can do for famine in Yemen, or electricity in Puerto Rico for that matter, but the least I can do is pay some attention and not spend valuable seconds pondering the emotional evolution of Louis C.K.
The scandals fascinate me, though. A lot of that is the herd effect, which in this case makes a lot of sense but is still weird to see. Floodgates open, etc. I’m particularly interested in the somberness; on some, superficial level, this is a sex scandal, but it doesn’t feel titillating at all. It feels common, and completely unsurprising. I’ve yet to see one man swept into this net of bad behavior who startled me. I don’t have inside information, and I assume that perhaps a couple of these accusations are false, or faulty, but yeah. I’ve been alive a while, I’ve been a boy and then a man, and I’m not surprised in the least. My default mode is belief, because I know.
I’m not off the hook at all. Like a lot of us, I’ve been running the film a lot, looking back on my life. The lack of empathy is remarkable, even as I consider myself a reasonably empathetic person. And I’m not even talking about the teenage years.
But my default mode has also been to shut up. This is not my story to tell, or really to comment on. I’ve written a bit about the backlash and the ethical quandaries when it comes to celebrities and their personal behavior vs. public product, and some personal stuff about clay feet and pedestal toppling, but otherwise it feels prudent to listen and let others talk. I’ve got little insight, anyway.
It feels like change, though. Like we’re not going back. And that feels like a good thing.
My cold hasn’t particularly interfered with life, although I was a bit out of it yesterday, stayed home from church and napped a little. Not that life is all that exciting. Reservations have been made for a post-Christmas, pre-New Year’s trip to Texas, and our car is currently in the shop, running up a gargantuan bill as I type. I’m tempted to say we can’t catch a break, but we’ve had tons of breaks. It just never stops.
And this is Thanksgiving, finally, the bright light of November, the guardrail we grab when the daylight shrinks and we realize, once again, that we just have to hold on. It’s going to be a dark six months but it always is, there’s a price for everything, and at least we have Thanksgiving.
Gratitude is also a good thing to grab, when and where I can. I am profoundly grateful for many things, including forgiveness, and the inspiration from so many to become a better guy. There are plenty of role models in my life, and none of them are celebrities, and that’s my clue right there.