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Grind

I have been trying hard to be cheerful this summer, because the temptation to drop into depression has been almost irresistable. The last few years have seemed to me like millstones, and people keep feeding themselves into them to be crushed. That may sound a bit bleak until you think back on the last time you heard anything newsworthy that didn't prey on your negative emotions. Climate change? Scares us, makes us feel helpless. Politics? Have become so hateful they foster emotions from outrage to contempt 24/7 in basically everyone. Same with mass shootings, overseas wars, runaway inflation, health issues, food safety, etc.

Assuming, of course, if what we're told is even true, and not advertising via fear-mongering. I can't tell the difference anymore, so I've stopped checking the news.

That said, most of it is still in my face. Bumper stickers, yard signs, t-shirts all proclaiming toxic politics abound here. I can shut that off by pretending I don't see it, or just thinking about something else, but inflation can't be dodged. When I go to the market and see a head of lettuce for six dollars, and a single bell pepper for five, I wonder how people with kids are even managing to properly feed their families. One of our neighbors who has two teenagers told my guy that they're spending $300 to $400 a week on groceries. Is everyone who can't afford that living on boxed mac n' cheese? Gas prices just increased over four dollars a gallon here, too. We're back to only using the car when we need to run three or more errands. And the grind goes on and on and on.

It's always been easier to be negative and dark. Most of the poetry I wrote when I was younger consisted of wailing, shrieking or nihilistic rants against everything I hated, including myself. As an adult I became best at satire because I saw so much that made me contemptuous (and sick.) I think the bitterness and disappointment we all feel as we age becomes mountainous, too. We won't even talk about health problems that beset us later on in life.

Lately I find myself constantly thinking "Why did I do all that work and sacrifice so much to end up with (insert negative result)?" I don't regret my life, but if I knew what the outcome would be . . . I don't know. Hindsight is always painful.

The millstones will go on grinding no matter what you or I do. So I say live your life in the moment, and do what you can to find your happiness. If you fail, try again, or try something new or different. Keep going in the most positive direction you can. That may be the only way to escape being crushed.

Comments

Maria Zannini said…
I often wonder how people with children make it. Greg thinks I fuss for nothing because there's nothing you can do about prices, but I disagree. Maybe my small ripple in the pond amounts to nothing to big corp, but whatever I can grow myself or buy from a small time farmer or herdsman, is one less penny in their pockets.

As for hindsight...: I feel your pain. Greg is happy with his life. He rose from nothing and made a good life for both of us, but I'm less than satisfied with mine. I always feel I could've done more, but now that hourglass is against me. Whatever I do now, might as well be for myself. I've denied myself for too long.

That said, my mom is letting go of stuff. Her things, her clothes, her mementos. She's keeping only what she needs for everyday. She looks plenty spry to me, but she's gotten her affairs in order. I have to admire that attention to detail. It makes me feel I should get rid of stuff too. Time to lighten the load.
the author said…
Your mom is very wise. My mother slowly lost everything that mattered to her along with her memories as she was bounced around by my siblings at the end of her life; I imagine everything of value was sold by my sisters and brother so they could pocket the cash (I'm still waiting to see the hand-stitched quilts that I made her show up on eBay.) It's sad, and definitely not what she would have wanted, but this is also why I've been very specific about how to dispose of my belongings after my death. I'm also giving away most of what I make now.

I always felt that I could have done more with my life, too. I stopped brooding over that when I realized how much I've survived and endured while accomplishing what I have done, like living with arthritis and dealing with those limitations since I was 28. You know what I mean, pal.

We're sharing our extra garden produce with our neighbors when we can. It's not a lot, but I feel like even that little bit helps.

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