yesterdays entry from Siderea's journal definitely gave me more food for thought... While I know that numbers can be looked at in all sorts of ways, my gut feeling is that overall the numbers are not benign. While I very much appreciate all that the helpers, the medical personnel, the researchers are doing, I fear that the overall gutted public health infrastructure and institutional lack of concern/awareness of the reality of most peoples lives are going to bite our culture hard. I hope I am wrong, and even more I hope that I and my dear ones will all be here a year from now, doing our best to deal with whatever the next thing to come down the road at us will be... Much love to all of you...
Today I go in for the first of two necessary periodontal surgeries. I've been phobic about oral surgery ever since the botched surgery when I was 14. I don't know what sort of condition I will be in afterwards, so am writing my Monday post now, the night before. I am feeling peculiarly blank, or, as dearlove M pointed out, currently in a state of "fatalistic resignation right now... at some point your monkey brain gives up on "protecting you" via panic"
and... here is some Tina Turner, as a counterbalance:
today's gratitude - today I am grateful for every day I have been above ground ever since my cancer journey.
Re your today's gratitude: yes, and you have lived to see another Spring!
ReplyDeletethank you Carol!
DeleteIt's fitting that in this time of worldwide disasters, the words of the brilliant and prophetic Frank Herbert apply. (But where is the ancient order of women that rule the universe?)
ReplyDeleteI read about behavioral herd immunity the other day: even though we don't have time to develop a vaccine and gain chemical immunity, we can protect ourselves and our communities by ALL taking the preventive measures that should be common sense but that people rarely do. Wash hands! Don't touch your face! Stay home if you're sick! It only works if everyone does it.
I am painfully familiar with that animal fear that takes over your brain and body until your vision is fogged and your limbs feel like they are disconnected and you transition into a state of resignation since death is surely nigh. My vet calls it "fear rigor" as observed in my dog who becomes literally frozen from anxiety. Fortunately we survive the anxiety-inducing events and enjoy the sense of extraordinary relief and well-being afterwards.
All good thoughts and blessings be upon you today.
Thank you Katrina! I remember that my dear Akita went into a state of frozen calm the first time at the vet that looked almost like she was falling asleep... from there she actually did eventually relax and fall asleep... it was most odd. Eventually she learned to like the nice people there who gave her treats.
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