Dangerous Compassions

no idea

It’s the two-year anniversary of my dad’s death.  The calendar for today is blank.  I would like to give myself credit for good planning, but it just happened that way.  I plan to take it easy and write some letters.

Yesterday at urgentcare, didn’t have to wait too long, got seen, didn’t have a panic attack.  The doctor prescribed three things.  I started the generic zyrtec this morning.  We’ll see.

Over in facebook world, I upset a friend with an article I posted that really spoke to me about reasons people have for not voting.  I disturbed her.  She says we have to have faith in the system in order for it to work.  I feel like it’s not really my fault that my life journey has led me to a place where I no longer believe.

Then someone else commented the cliche “you can’t complain unless you try to make a difference” but I would like to say, well, I do make a difference, every day.  With serving the hungry, running an interfaith peace org, running a radical mental health collective, peace vigiling once a week…I do a lot more than vote twice a year or whatever.

I feel misunderstood and like a weirdo, but I feel like that a lot, so whatever.

Ming made coffee.  I just wanted to stay in bed this morning.  But Ming was hungry and I wanted to make him breakfast, so I did.

I used to pray a lot for god to bless the spirit of my dad wherever he was.  I vaguely imagined him floating over a forest or on the moon or in the Grand Canyon or whatever, touring around.  Where’s his spirit now?  Two years.  Maybe settled down somewhere?  Heaven?  I have no idea.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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