The longer I live, the less certain I am about anything.
I’m not overthrowing the known for the unknown or vice versa, much less seeking balance. Some days are just without bounds. I’m just trying to stay present to the chaos. It seems the only place of worth.
Increasingly, the world is dark, where money and corruption is doing its best to bury the rule of law. Democracy does die in that kind of darkness and has, historically. It’s never been more important to be present to the impossible.
I am a child of the 60s, Vietnam, and a newspaper editor during the Nixon years, too young to know how dark those times were, too naïve to know that democracy is not impregnable.
Don’t think I don’t wish for that kind of naïveté again, even for one day, but life is about regenerating rather than repeating. If it weren’t, ours would be a world without prism for no color can survive without the chaos of hue.
Who would want a world without prism?
Some days I hide out in black and white movies, adventure games, or listen to a cozy mystery set in the 20s or 30s or World War II but these stories are echoes of what does come to pass and worse. So, nowhere to hide because once aware means no going back. Now is the only time I ever have.
It is hard to stay present to the everyday lies disrupting one democracy after another as Putin grins. But I’m not ready to give into the oligarchs, to their world of gray, their world without prism.
I may be lost but there is still some worth in that.