Broken Hearts and Broken Promises

This is the start of the Era of the Post Pandemic Twenty-First Century. Doubtless a more compelling moniker will arise. I find myself stumbling in senses literal and figurative into the new era. Things could be worse for me than they are presently but they are, while better than I could have seen them being not long ago, still apparently more or less at the limit of my capacities and I am not commanding some vast structure of success under strain. I consistently struggle simply to get through the time and situation I am currently in and to move into the next with a spirit of hope and adventure strong enough to simply get through it given my resources.

I have at this writing 1,465 Facebook friends. That is more than at the start of the Pandemic but not many more and fewer than I had a week ago. On this blog I have few readers anymore but I may try to get into improvements next week or I may let the thing go. It is not likely I will let it go. I suppose that in time I will reach a real point of diminishing returns that requires me to decide if I will allocate resources to this. But for now I push forward a bit. Just keeping going in a time when my old and new heartbreaks seem to take most of my attention and emotional energy that is left after simply getting through things.

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Photo by burak kostak on Pexels.com

I realize that on this day of the throngs observing George Floyd’s interment there are many things I would have to day just to say anything. I do not begrudge Floyd his burial. I do not begrudge his family the right to see his killer or killers answer before the bar of justice. But I do feel very strongly that there are many layers of broken hearts and broken promises in the situation that I survey. I imagine that we are very far from getting to the place where I would consider that real conversation even begins.

Nor do I believe that talking and listening or the only actions that matter Nonetheless, I look around at the crowds in this movement in a time of shuttered or barely open shops and churches and I am weary and sad. I look at the public discourse and at so many levels it makes me tired and sad. I look at the man I am as I face this new era and that makes me tired and sad as well. I look at the way we seem stood in a circle of endless easy answers and that makes me tired and sad as well.

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