Dear you,
Another Sunday, but . . .
Bright sun on the coast and crisp air, cool at last. It’s an NFL fun day, but . . . my mind keeps
going somewhere not so fun. The
Seahawks-Packers game is on, snow swirls on the screen, happy fans wear cheese
hats cheering for Aaron Rodgers, their hero returned. Oh, yeah, that guy. The anti-vax-now-I-have-Covid man who no
doubt spread the virus to unwitting contacts.
My preference for the Seahawks aside, his presence on my screen bummed
me out. It’s just a game; I never really
had a beef with this athlete before, but . . .
I had to work hard to get back to that fun day feeling. Forget Aaron.
Look at those cheeseheads!
Adorable. Cheese themed cowboy
hats, cheese themed hard hats, and plain old cheese wedges just being cheesy,
bopping up and down on the heads of those loyal fans. They love their Wisconsin team, but . . .
Wisconsin. The trial of Kyle Rittenhouse. A deranged judge setting up the prosecution
for failure on so many levels. Doe-eyed
Kyle is guilty of the worst, murder for fame; he wanted to be the “hero” his
death cult followers admire. He got what
he wanted. I can’t blame the entire
snowy, whimsical, cheesy state of Wisconsin for whatever decision that jury will
reach, but . . .
Let it go. It’s fun
day. Check out the latest on
Twitter. Laugh with the supporters of
Big Bird in the Cruz V. Sesame Street war.
Check out the latest antics of Marjorie Taylor Greene. She tweets her devotion to the holy book,
photographed with a giant prop version of that text, blabbing about how long it
took her to read the thing cover to cover.
In the shot, we also see her unfortunate, predictable décor, a wall of
crosses, crucifixion as a design choice. A cross adorned wall usually wouldn’t
irk me, but . . .
Another Sunday. I
bring it to a close by re-reading bits of wisdom from one of my holy
books. I am reminded by Marcus Aurelius
not to degrade my soul by caring about other people’s motives, their guilt,
innocence, guile or purity. I am told to
be undisturbed and concentrate on myself, the perfection of what is mine to
perfect; I haven’t graduated from the Aurelius school of stoic wisdom yet, but
. . .
I love the way the Packers connect with their fans, the way Wisconsin snow swirls and cheese hats bop with joy, the way Kyle’s prosecutor won’t give up, the way religious iconography can be artful and even sexy like:
The point is I just keep trying to not have my head messed
with on a daily basis by whatever, well, messes with my head, but . . . since demented judges, the Arrons, the Kyles,
and the Marjories aren’t going anywhere, I must see it as it is and stay
steady. I can do that by making a
rhetorical adjustment that affects my frame of mind:
It’s not about “but”.
It’s all about “and”.
This and that. Good
and bad. Both just are.
Finally, slowly, stoically when possible, I’m
catching on and catching up with everybody who knows this already.
Love AND kisses,
Joyce
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