March 20, 2005
I find myself in a rather morose mood today. This in spite of a firm contract for our house in Illinois, and the discovery of some new housing developments here producing ranch style homes we like. Selling our old house and thinking about a new one seems like jumping through hoops to me. Jumping through hoops that someone else is controlling.
Lately it seems as if the cost of living, the emotional and spiritual cost, is far greater than the benefit it buys. I work, sleep, work again, cook, sleep again, and so on. Endlessly repeating the same activities just so I can be alive one more day. Just so I can lift the burden that my life has become. I am so very tired of all of the drama and turmoil. I am worn out from worrying and stress, and I am exhausted from trying to fit in and belong in a society that seems alien to me.
Losing my sister when I was twelve years old scarred me for life. It profoundly altered my understanding of our limited time here in this physical plane. When I look at the loved ones in my life today I see that I am fortunate beyond words. I have a loving wife who is beautiful outside and in. I share my home with two felines that return my love with joy and nonjudgmental love of their own. And after years of hard work on myself I finally have, and accept that I have, the best relationship possible with my family. I also see death. Baring a deliberate intervention on my part I will outlive all that I love and live for. Sitting here this afternoon I know that I will be alone at the end of my life.
So, what does it all mean? What is the purpose of living if in the end all you love dies; and you yourself pass on leaving a fading ripple on the surface of life’s water? I try to live for the moment, accepting the emotions and thoughts each day brings and releasing them as soon as they are past. But sometimes I get into a mood, and then all I can see is the darkness along the path ahead. And while I am not afraid of facing the darkness anymore, I am weary of facing it again and again.