"I've been thinking a lot lately about whether or not I'm becoming too self-absorbed." - Dick Stein, KPLU
This quote was at the head of an email I received from a friend whom I had written to respond to an earlier email of his that contained bad news. News that I knew was coming, more or less, but concern for which I had let slip. I had apologized for being self-involved. He’s a good guy and his forgiveness was ready.
Still, I remained sad for him, and compounded the sadness by thinking of others I know whom I have neglected to inquire about. For instance, Snowman. If you scroll to the bottom of my blogroll, you will see “Diary of a Crap Poker Player.” Don’t bother clicking on the link, for the blog is no more. Snowman became ill about a year ago. We corresponded a bit and from time-to-time about his health, which seemed to be improving, and I encouraged him to keep writing. “It helps,” I told him. And now, no blog. So, I wrote him again, and await an answer. I want to get one.
The list, virtuals and those known by sight, is longer than I care to consider.
I studied philosophy as an undergrad, primarily because of questions about human suffering. I had seen a lot of it while working in hospitals, and as a young man, I wanted so badly to make sense of it all. None was to be found; just acceptance that we suffer. We must? That is the real question, for we are duty-bound to engage that constant.
It is the end of a calendar year. There is a mandate to reflect and resolve. I’ve never done well with authority, imagined or otherwise. I prefer to stew, reheat until the eventual mush. It is no small wonder that I find myself in my current condition. The clock is not broken; it needs a good cleaning.
I hear compassion makes for a good solvent.