"Nobody Knows the Trouble I feel"

Nobody knows the trouble I feel? 

What narcissistic bullsheet*! 

Ah! Jest kinda jesting. 

I was thinking this morning about the Hubris of Misery. The very thought that I, alone, have reached the bottom of the barrel in the level of my misery seems to me to be the height of such hubris. I -- perhaps, it was last week, in one of my wordy postings -- began a list of the unattractive feelings that folk use typically as weapons against others. 

"I am the victim and some rich swine out there, therefore, must be my victimizer!"

                                                Nobody knows m'troubles! 

                                                              yeah, yeah!

                                                         Glory, Halleluyah!

Late Middle-Age -- or what I call in these ramblings The Last Quarter -- assuredly has its aches, pains, disappointments and realities. My back does ache, this week. My wrist ain't so hot and my feet are numb because -- or so the Docs tell me -- the nerves in my legs aren't choreographing and conducting the way they once did. My heart has its own mind as to how often it chooses to beat and I need to spend more $ on sunscreen, these days, due to the thinning of my groundcover. One might abbreviate: Life has turned out well but not exactly, perhaps, as I might've planned it had I been fully in charge. Oh, and when I see the young folk, I know that I can't be quite like they are -- never, again. No more Big-Sky expanses of futures full of promise. True enough ... but it's really neat watching them get going.

There really -- at least, tio my way of thinking, is a kind of hubris, egotism and arrogance in assuming things should be different for me than say for any of those folk who came before me. My parents and grandparents had their aches and the Colonial poet Edward Taylor fretted the end of the story, much as I do, as he screamed:

                                                          "A Phig to Thee, Oh, Death.****"

Moses, too, the Great Liberator of his people begged his God to let him go on just a bit longer in order to see the wonders that this God had begun to show him ... and, I suspect, in order to go on just a little longer. All those who live face their own mortality and suffer pain! That's the gig!

**********************

But let me go back to envy. It is, after all, among the only type of thought that is considered sinful in the Old Testament Theology.  The Ten Commandments and all the rest proscribe against certain actions ... while envy is singled out as the only thought sin. 

Pentateuch avoids the policing of other thoughts ...  And the proscription covers a lot of bases. One is not supposed to envy one's neighbor's ox or his house or his ass or his wife. (It says nothing, might I add, about envying your neighbor's wife's ass ... ah, we can leave that for a different day!)

So, what's the problem with envy?  Why is it so troublesome that it would be, perhaps, the only outlawable thought, at least in the Pentateuch? That's been preoccupying my mind, lately and this AM, as I arose. 

(I do hope that someone gets into my boat and rows a bit with me on this complex issue, but, in the meantime, I'll take a stab at it, myself.)

Here's a  list of some Grateful Forms (Sunshine) vs. the Envious Forms  (Green Algae and Mold):

Thanks to all those who have helped me along the way: 

I feel great about waking up, today. 

Harvey and Linda got this great house: 
6-car garage and $100,000 kitchen.

Thanks to all those who have helped me along the way: 

Dinner was great, Mama.**

Mary and Dick got this great house: 
6-car garage and $120,000 kitchen.

Thanks to M for hanging out with me for 50 years 

and continuing to share my bed: 

Dinner was great, Mama.**

Ray and Charley got this great house: 

6-car garage and $150,000 kitchen with radiant floor heating.

Thanks be to all: 

I have more than I ever imagined and some of our kids 

and grandkids were over last night for dinner.

Our oldest kid has a great car, a young wife and a really cute kid***;

They're (exc. for the car) in Paris having a great time; 

and they're not silly enough to own a big old house.

Thanks be to Anima Mundi ... to whatever brings the World to Life: 

I have pretty M, GuntherDog, PrettyGirlFreudleChat, 

and I'm the Always Agreeable Aga of my family.

You get the point; I won't go on. Envy is ugly ... butt-ugly ... it scours and shows disgust for what isn't ... It's like one big fart at a gala. It denies the value of the gifts received and undoes all sorts of goodness  ... allows no good to stand by imagining that The Good resides in the hands and lives of others. Envy criticizes the Other for not being or bringing enough. And ultimately envy pushes one's Others away as they recognize how little they are being appreciated.

Gratitude, on the other hand, is appreciative, as it beautifies the one carrying it and thanks all who are near and dear for giving all that we, indeed, have. Gratitude costs nothing.

************

Well. I'm feeling blessed, today, to have received three kids, three full quarters, and a beautiful and tolerant wife ... oh! and a roadster, even if it's slower than my kid's beast of a car. I've long seen life as an expansive canvas on which I get to paint till the painting's done ... pretty cool to have that opportunity. Pretty cool. Too bad the Grateful Dead don't get to play forever.

*************

Damn! I'm so preachy!

*I think that's Greek for Hubris!** My grandfather would end each dinner with that form of thanks to my grandmother and a kiss on her forehead, even when Mama's Kapusta tasted like leftover Road-Kill/
*** I mean: my youngest grand looks great in Paris!
**** "Fuck you, death" in Colonial-speak.