Thanksgiving

I’m thankful for Mocha.  I’m thankful for a body that’s in pretty good condition.  I’m thankful for my friends.  I’m grateful for food to eat and a roof over my head.

A visit with a friend.  I told her I was badly depressed because of the election.  She said she always had hope and she preferred not to think about bad things.  Then she started telling me what she says to people who complain — “Oh, I don’t mean you” — but as she went on I had to say, as gently as possible, “please stop.”  She did, and didn’t seem to resent it either.  Yes, denial is a very effective mechanism to keep you from feeling pain.  But I have too much respect and reverence for the truth to be able to ignore it.  What I need is some kind of balance, a faith like Etty’s that life is beautiful and meaningful.  I keep losing that, and then the awful things that are happening pull me way down.

Driving home, I thought about hope.  Had I given up hope?  No.  I think we are in for a bad time.  How we are living is unsustainable and will have to collapse.  Some sort of community will come together in the ruins.  What I hope is that they will have learned that we need the skills to live sustainably in community, we can’t live any other way.  So that’s my hope.  My fear is that we will have damaged the earth’s life-support system so badly — but no, I know that the earth has tremendous powers of regeneration.  I know that the design of the Universe is not random.  I know that the arc of evolution is long — millions of years long — but it bends toward consciousness, compassion, and justice.

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