useless forearms

I often feel a bit like a T.Rex in a Gary Larson cartoon: having useless forearms with which I attempt to pass bowls of potatoes.  My glasses even look sort of like the Lady Rex’s now that I think about it.

There’s been a good bit of failed potato passing lately.  As far as the Parrot Affair goes, the airport has definitely burst into flames again.  Unable to find that train with a bar car, I had to resort to retrieving a xanax from my emergency only stash to keep my eyes from behaving like a couple of grapes about to be squeezed and popped out of their skins prior to being crushed in mid air while a bandsaw plowed across the forehead area.  Yet and still, we survived to pass more potatoes.

It is this survival that is interesting, I think.  Because really, no matter how bad things get (and they can get pretty bad) somehow that sense of rhythm, day/night/day, life/death/life, ultimately kicks in and allows one to say to one’s quivering pulp of a self, self? it’s all going to work out  fine, especially if you can just stay CALM FOR TWO EFFING SECONDS.  Because then there’s two more seconds and then two more and eventually enough time passes for there to be distance between you and the dropped potatoes and you can say, and believe it, that all things an be dealt with and in fact?  This thing here really doesn’t require any action beyond ramping it all down enough to be able to think.

Then, applying that day/night/day thing, you realize that really it is all a huge flow and everything is bound to happen sooner or later and there really is simply the matter of, once again, feeling what you’re feeling and then proceeding from that.   This is not to say everything is happyhappyjoyjoy- but simply that no matter what your situation, you can use your spirit and mind to keep yourself in some kind of equilibrium which allows for the potential of forward movement.  This is, of course, much harder to do when you’re homeless or in a war zone than it is when you have basic needs met and can, say, go on a vacation.

I often wonder why it is that life seems so difficult.  One day everything’s fine and the next? Who knows.  Admittedly we are in a period of change in the world unlike what anyone has seen for quite some time, and the wrong headedness of what has been done through history becomes more apparent every day.  But I think of the people I know who are confronting really terrible difficulties (cancer, prison, homelessness, among others) with the accompanying pains and fears.  Certainly we all make choices that…er…could’ve been better.  So many choices are already made for us, though, and it is perhaps our lack of understanding and acceptance of that fact that creates even more challenges.   It is both a hard and a good thing to see the strength within the resignation in people’s eyes, and I can’t help but think that if there could be a bit more honesty about what really IS possible, we all wouldn’t waste so much time.   Like, we’d wake up and know there is absolutely no American Dream, not really, for one thing.  Also nobody is “better” than anybody else.  So then we’d think more about cooperating and growing food and all that stuff I harp on, yes I know, instead of thinking we can change things like plants and animals into something they’re not and get a patent on it for good measure, and have a workforce that’s more like a mass of lemmings running over the edge of something than people working to keep themselves and their communities intact and functional.  This, then, might make it easier for a man and a woman, or any form of partnership between any form of beings, to work  together smoothly.  We might then be able to actually problem solve instead of chopping each other to bits.  Then, maybe everybody could feel that joy that comes from working through things, creating and achieving results that are tangible through happiness and not calculated on an abstraction.  We do, The Partner and I, always, sooner or later, and it is this that gives me hope even in those T. Rex interludes.

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