So I'm at the neurologist's yesterday and he's showing me this MRI of my neck - a wonderful amalgam of grays and darks, so detailed as to be grizzly - and he says, "see that bit of white tube there and that bit of white tube there - they're supposed to be connected." I have an arthritic neck pinching my spinal cord. That's why I have always have a dull ache in my neck and my shoulders and neck are always tense. (this is also why my fingers have begun tingling - the nerve test showing no damage in my arms or hands) I'm irritable because I'm physiologically in a constant state of irritation - it's not the guy driving to slowly in the left lane after all.
The photo is from the last full day on Grand Cayman Island - starfish beach
part of the nature of memory is that we forget - and if we are without paper the remembering is doubly impinged. I don't know why I say doubly when triple might suffice as well. I have worked so diligently and intensely to do well in some classes that the particulars of plate tectonics, cell wall transposition, and German's subjunctive 1 and 2 remain clear in my mind thirty years on. I have never had to work so hard though on this: my grievances - slights and hurts that have withstood the test of time; they remain as fresh as when they occurred 40 and 50 years ago. And even more so, the slights and predations reported by my parents and relatives exist in my memory also. I suspect even, that some theologies exist simply to inject even more distant slights and injuries into people. I think there is something on our psyches that is like velcro that needs constant smoothing, an ardent peeling off of the foreign objects that hook onto our souls - that too easily flood memory without much work at all. There is no sense being remembered for your grievances - there is no love in them.
when I was in weight watchers, there was an exercise that worked like this: write you goal - list the steps you need to take toward that goal - and it was presented in the form of a story board where you had individual squares for depicting what those steps might look like. Well, my goal was and is always "Nirvana" - and the first stage in my journey toward that goal is always a chance occurrence, probably at a bar but also in a check out line; a lost map is discovered or something like that; at some point a discussion with people in suits occurs - which is pivotal [although variations include taking the wrong exit to such a meeting and encountering a hobo billionaire at a Denny's] - the last panel is almost always finding shoes that fit and look good, having a good cup of tea [ennui cuppa], or having someone be on time for an appointment
The photos are from Ten Sail on Grand Cayman - where Mark, Sherrie, Jami and I stopped (among other places) on our visit to the island, in February 2016.
