Bluesy hunger

I rarely feel down about anything. 2 weeks ago, I had one of the best weeks I’ve ever had in recent memory. Then the week after I had a pretty crap week.

Crap for me is probably considered good for other people, so don’t imagine that anything too terrible happened.

One of my close friends has a friend our age who is dying of lung cancer. Here I am, figuring out what I want to do with my life, and his is about to come to an end. There’s really nothing I can do for him or for anyone in his situation, except live my own life to the fullest so as to not waste these extra breaths that I can take which they will not.

Before last week, I hadn’t really lost anyone very close to me. One of my instructors in Costa Rica, Patricia Ortiz, just died last week while protecting some kids from a rockslide. I wasn’t extremely close to her, but I talked to her about plenty of stuff and I played with her very young son pretty often while I studied there.

I listened to her stories about growing up as the black sheep in her family and getting sent to boarding school. I’m glad that I did get the chance to tell her that she inspired my spirituality (which is pretty much non-existant) when I was out in the rainforest.

Now she’s gone. Her cute and smart son is going to grow up with a faint memory of what his mother was like. That’s pretty depressing to think about because there is a whole entity that would have showered him with love who no longer exists.

As sad as it makes me feel, I still take this in stride, and this kind of worries me. If there is one thing that I believe in life, it is the idea that “this too shall pass”. There’s a great parable about the saying which you can read here: http://www.wscribe.com/parables/pass.html

I’ve wanted to get some iteration of that tattooed since I read it. Most people use the phrase to console someone, but it’s also a great warning for life every day. Yes, the bad things will pass, but so will the good things. Nothing in life is permanent. I sometimes wonder if my adherence to this mantra makes it harder for me to emotionally attach myself to others. Is it alright that I can let go of a long relationship easily or would it be better if I could feel a distress that encompasses and seizes my body? I don’t think many people would say I’m cold, but I’m certainly not warm. I’m emotionally stable, but that’s because I’m not emotionally abundant. I sometimes wonder if life would be more meaningful if I experienced more lows and more highs rather than a constant satisfying medium.

But that’s pretty silly, because there are people who feel only lows. I’m thankful for what I have.

Later on in the week, a vandal smashed my car’s back window. My aunt asked me if I knew why someone would do that. She said we should think about it because maybe we blocked other people’s parking spots or something that made them want to teach us a lesson.

I got kinda mad when she asked that because I saw it as a form of victim blaming. I hate victim blaming.

She’s Buddhist so she believes in karma and it may seem like some cosmic retribution for what we have done, but to me, it just showed me that bad things happen to all people. Whether you’re good or bad, you will experience bad things. All you can do is take it and move on.

I wasn’t mad at all about my window getting broken. I wasn’t mad that I have to pay $300 to get it replaced. I don’t feel mad at whoever broke the window and I’ve spent zero time thinking about why they would do it. People do bad things all the time. I don’t waste my time thinking about why they do them. I also don’t believe that some karmic justice will get them. Bad people sometimes do bad things and still live wonderful lives where nothing bad happens to them.

I know bad things will happen to me, but as long as I continue living, I also know that I will experience so many more good things than bad things. It seems a little short-sighted to dwell on the bad that I do encounter.

That said, my body is totally not used to negativity. I don’t think I know how to react to it. My stomach just feels funny. It feels pretty much exactly like hunger. And then I eat and I feel better. Then I wonder if I’m really sad at all or if I’m just hungry. Or does eating make me happy?

These are the depths of my emotions.

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