it is the day after christmas. it was a pretty uneventful christmas at our house. maybe i am being lazy, maybe i'm just using the covid-19 as an excuse, but i hardly put any effort into christmas this year. we didn't put up a christmas tree (but we did put up decorations in the yard). i did write a "santa note" to the kids, just out of form; it's basically a regurgitated and distilled "parental note." but i hope they took it well.
i suppose i've been reading a lot about the passage of time. about people who live with each other in retirement, about unexpected tragedies (strokes, etc.), about living with the burden of old age and decrepitude. mainly about how to pass the time, when there isn't as much left of it. and there isn't anything really big to look forward to. i've also read about people dying, and about how people have to take care of the burden of tying loose ends, making an ending "appear" finished, for appearance's sake. a lot of it makes me question the socially constructed reality that we imbibe every day. that reality posits a kind of sexy, virile patina over everything. it is always the bold conflict that draws our attention, not the humble, and invisible, day to day struggles. but in truth, most of life is that invisible struggle. that getting up, that getting down to do shit... that's really what life is.
life is, or should be, about connecting with others. i think i've largely forgotten that during this whole covid crap. i would like to, but it just seems... i don't know...
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so, yesterday (christmas day) we went over to lynn's friend's restaurant, and i ended up washing dishes with the kids. it was a real chore. some of that food was burnt into the pan. i used the metal scrub pad so much that it started fragmenting in my hand. also the industrial detergent soap that they use started to eat away at my skin. at one point, i felt like i got a shard of the metal scrub pad stuck in the pad of my middle finger. i squeezed it until a drop of blood (and hopefully the shard) got out...
i actually enjoy working hard like that. it makes me feel alive. it also makes me feel like i'm doing something. if you stick me in a room with people, and have me socialize- well, that kills me. i'd always rather be doing something- killing something, cleaning something, whatever. even singing. but conversation- it always makes me anxious. and i probably bore my conversation partners...
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in fact, this returns me to an image i have... people are like gravity wells, like black holes... and so long as i am moving, doing something, protecting myself with contexts and responsibilities... then i am fine. but if you allow me to drift, then it feels as though i will inexorably crash into and through people... so i keep things busy in order to protect myself, and others...
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i just returned from visiting my parents and my neice and nephew. they are all doing alright. my nephew is back from his first semester in new york city. i imagine he's living it up there. i just imagine that because that's the sort of person he is. he is the center and life of the party. i suppose if i were younger, i'd almost be envious of that sort of life. but i guess as you get older, you start becoming more- i don't know, realistic about things. maybe cynical. you start to understand that not only would you not experience that sort of life now, but you probably wouldn't have experienced it when you were younger. it's you, after all. inescapable you. and that's okay. it's just you start to understand yourself and your reality as something particular that doesn't always match the circumstances of others. you might call it karma, or whatever. i just think at a certain age, or stage in life, you start to accept your karma, and not imagine that things could be or should be better...
or maybe it's just the age. and the turning of the wine in me.
in any case, i realize that there's less in me that is willing to overexpend myself on fruitless endeavors. i'm more of a concerted effort sort of person now. concerted, and purposeful. at least with the purposes that i invent for myself (because ultimately, there are no ultimate purposes left)...
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