(a picture of me without my masks ... )
These have been weeks of Glad and Sad. Throughout my ramblings on this blog since, I think 2011, I've revisited my sense of my and maybe Monty Python's sense of life ... mine acquired over the past seven decades. They don't have the feel to me of deep metaphysical truths espoused by students of Nietzsche, but maybe by Nietzsche, himself:
"You have your way;
I have mine.
As for the Perfect way
or the only way,
that doesn't exist."
Among the movies that have moved me is a feminist one about Antonia and her Line ... her daughter and grand-daughter. Maybe it's unfortunate that it mocks men a bit ... but we men and our need to prove ourselves is, in the end, a comically pathetic attempt to hide and deny vulnerability. In any case, in the film is a man ... a student of Nietzsche who cannot quite leave his home or his books ... his name in the film is Crooked Finger. Maybe he serves as counter-character to a crazed lady, la Luna, who howls at the Moon, at night. Crooked Finger suicides; la Luna keeps on howling!
As I said: these weeks have been Glad and Sad. M's baby Sister turned 60 and we travelled 300+ miles each way to celebrate. Just M and I in the roadster ... top down ... at one time leading a caravan of Corvettes anxious to pass our little German 2 seater. Just fun! ... Just Glad, though talking a bunch with each other about the loss of a 57 year old friend ... the one I spoke of last, I think. We talked, too, about a 37 year old daughter of a friend who tried very hard but couldn't make it and was dying ... and, indeed, died a day after we returned. Can't imagine what it's like for her Mom and Dad. Our youngest used to babysit for her ... a sweet young woman plagued by chemical Demons and undoubtedly demons of another ilk.
I haven't been able to write very much, these days ... a problem as I need to speak in New York in just 4 or 5 days and I'm not certain what to say to the very Nietzschian audience of serious-minded thinkers. Maybe it has been watching GuntherDog struggling in these weeks. This morning, he did what he's been doing each morning, lately. Climbs down slowly from his chair and waits for me to pee and then walks out of our bedroom. He pauses, at just that moment, and walks towards a bedroom that is no longer occupied, sniffs a bit, and gets back on path towards the stairs. I've never been quite certain what to say to him, especially as his vocabulary is limited. He knows "upstairs" and barks and clammers to go up each evening after hearing that word. He knows "wanna pee" and it moves him to the door. "Couch" takes him out of my chair and onto the love seat where he and M snuggle. Still, he doesn't get: "They're no longer there." How do I explain these things to an Old Dog ... to myself ... I think Gunther is about 14.
So, back to the issues of my five simplistic truths.
First -- maybe foremost! If y'can't juggle Sad and Glad, you're phukt!
Second: The Canvas on which you get to Paint your Life is Framed and Finite;
it's very big but y'don't get to expand it.
Third: Life IS the Only Game in Town;
Life IS the Only Thing that IS -- at least in these dimensions!
Fourth: Life is Meaningful only in the context of Relationships.
(if y'don't believe me, go read Kohelles, author of Ecclesiastes)
&
Fifth: For the Envious, Mad and Miserable cover Glad and Sad.
Frankly, I think Gunther and the 6 or so other Noble Beasts who have accompanied M and I on our journeys taught us all but the second of these so-called truths ... and the second, unfortunately, I won't be able to explain to him.
Alas!
