Protection? Hah!

Is there any true protection from the vicissitudes of life?

Sunscreen and flossing not withstanding, experience says no.

Originally, I wrote for this blog a very dark memory of a time I was left on my own at age five with a dangerous family, which happened to be my family. Both mom and dad were drinking and fighting and older brother left to run away to the peace of Elysian Park, just to get away form the war zone. He was eleven. I begged him to take me with him. He did not. Both of us kids would rather have been anywhere else besides in-home with the Sunday night fights.

But what good does it do to talk about it? What do we do with that kind of experience? Conclude that no one is safe? That we're all gonna die?

Or do we cultivate compassion for those whose behavior is other than what we wish it to be and take action, when possible, to steer them into life-enhancing choices?

My lizard brain's mantra is, We're all gonna die. There's obvious truth in that... eventually, all of us will kick the bucket. We're all hard-wired to survive; to fight for every last breath. It takes some amount of insanity to override the reptilian / survival brain, yet to live in fear of the eventuality of that day makes no sense to me. 

Kim Jong Un and Donald Trump may do the earth a favor, by ridding it of the vermin called humans once and for all with one glorious fierce fireworks of a conflagration. In the meantime, whatever time we have left, we verminous beings may as well perform outrageously gorgeous, courageous, humanitarian acts of loving kindness and beauty as last-ditch efforts to save our sorry asses and savor the flavors of LIFE.

Living at all is a gift. Living in fear is miserable, but it is a conscious choice. Living full-on in this rare and beautiful moment is a different conscious choice.  

How do we tame the reptile to allow for choice beyond fear? How do we go about our daily rounds as if the specter of death were a friend to be welcomed to table in whatever time frame the wraith sees fit?

I don't know.

Experimentation is all I've got.

We just had eight delightful humans stay in our home with us for a couple of days. Three of those beings are aged seven, four, and one year. Our eight year old granddaughter and both our daughters were part of the mix as well. In the wake of the visit, we seniors are wonderfully and happily exhausted, ready for the "napuary" or "dozitorium," but instead, we are moving on to the next tasks at hand without pause.  It looks as if we're going to do what one platitudinous email that keeps cycling around and around advises us to do... slide into home completely used up, with torn knees and scraped elbows... having gone all out, giving it all we've got. How fortunate we are. Many are struggling with recent storms, droughts, floods, famines and fires.

Still, maybe because it's Labor(less) Day, we'll let the laundry and sticky floors sit and take an actual nap!

May all who are suffering, and those whose homes are underwater in whatever way they may be - financially or literally - find a way to higher ground, ease and comfort among fellow humans who offer compassion. I'm bowled over by the kindness shown by neighbors to neighbors in times of crisis. Maybe Harvey will turn out to be a great teacher. Every chemical we set loose on the planet has a consequence. Water is a great equalizer. If we put poison into it, all will be poisoned. All species, all classes, all races, all castes, all genders, all religions, all sexual identities. All will be poisoned. One family, one planet. Harvey and Irma seem destined to teach us something. May we be good students.

We ourselves are our only protection from our ignorance, hubris and -isms.