Friends naturally ask me how I'm doing these days, and I typically respond that I'm doing fine, considering. If this isn't sufficient information, I add that it could be much worse; I could be experiencing exactly what I'm experiencing now, but in Darfur.
In fact, I am learning that I hardly need look to so exotic or tragic a locale to demonstrate the relative greenness of my grass. All I need do is consider the burdens borne by so many of my peers. Several have recently endured business catastrophes they could not possibly have anticipated and which nearly left them homeless. Several others are coping with debilitating mental illness, either their own or a family member's. Not a few, like myself, are currently looking for work, but much more desperately as they have greater financial obligations and/or fewer financial assets. Some are experiencing breakups like mine, but worse; the relationships are of longer endurance, the bonds harder to sever because children are involved, the splits considerably more acrimonious. Worst of all, a friend whose recent painful divorce was softened only by his devotion to his 17-year-old daughter lost her; she hydroplaned into a tree on her way home from church and was killed instantly, according to the state troopers.
We are all in our mid- to late-40's, a fact that leaves me wondering whether this is the common fate of people my age. Are we tragedy magnets? Does karma work in predictable cycles?
And then a worse thought occurs to me: that this is the beginning of a part of my life in which my friends and I will always be dealing with these sorts of thing, that it'll be nothing but illness and destitution and disappointment and heartbreak from here on out until we all at last shake off this mortal coil, likely with big smiles on our faces. Thank God that's done with, will be our collective last thought.
And of course, it could always be worse. We could all be having these heartbreaking experiences in Darfur.
So there you go.
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8 comments:
Well, that was uplifting.
But really, I think that although there is likely to be more tragedy and sorrow as one piles on the years, that doesn't mean there won't also be great joy and deep fulfillment as well--maybe even greater, and deeper, than that which is experienced when one is younger. And, one hopes, age brings with it an increased ability to negotiate a balance between the two. At least that's what I'd like to believe.
There's another possibility, of course: That we, your friends, are a bunch of schlemiels.
But regardless . . . as you know, RB, I've been thinking about these questions too - especially since I've found myself tumbling into love with a beautiful woman who is unlikely to tumble back. And here is a thought that I recently posted on my blog, for your consideration:
"It is worthwhile to fall in love, even though the crush of heartbreak is a natural (maybe even probable) outcome of loving. And it is worthwhile to live, because life is a lot like love in this mushy respect. More often than not, life runs afoul of Death, and Death enjoys smashing-up hearts almost as much as He enjoys taking lives. Still, I am grateful for my life. I am grateful that I have a heart that's worth breaking."
That is why they call me "Blowhard."
After the birth of our second, and decidedly final, child, I was struck with the realization that there was really nothing wonderful left to happen. I'd fallen in love and given birth to two beautiful children, and the only kind of news that could come about that could be match the impactfulness of these events would have to be tragic.
You, however, might still fall in love and have children. How lucky!
this reminds me of a conversation we had recently, regarding a line from "annie hall". alvy (woody allen's character) says
" life is-is divided up into the horrible and the miserable."
the horrible being the dafur example you stated. and everyone else is in the miserable category and as alvy says, we should be thankful. i don't necessarily subscribe, but it does put things into perspective. or as a character from spinal tap says while looking on at elvis' final resting place, "too much perspective."
Yes, there is always worse. And I know people call me Little Mary Sunshine behind my back but I believe that good can be found everywhere - even in misery. Maybe just glimmers but if we're open and looking we can find it.
Look around. Sure it's fine to worry and wallow sometimes but don't get lost in it. It's not a good path long term and it's hard to find your way back.
Signed,
LMS
this whole entry is a leonard cohen song waiting to happen. cheer up, friend.
this might also be an opportune time in your life to start reading more norman mailor and drinking more bourbon.
Keep in mind that those who care about you can and should be relied upon to help you through the knee deep shit. Don't feel you're burdening anyone because that's what friends are for. Wow. That should be the title of a trite song.
After 22 yrs of marriage and two beautiful children my spouse and I have learned to be more forgiving/tolerant of one another's foibles. Or at least turn the other cheek.
And speaking of trite, as long as you've got your health...Take it from one who wondered about that. Mortality is a crazy thing to face.
Wallow, rinse, repeat.
Lots of really wonderful comments there. Nothing else to add except 'Thanks.'
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