I’ve been spending some time writing about friend’s achievements and preparing sentencing arguments. It’s an odd juxtaposition, but an appropriate one. I do this on the heels of conversation with old friends/family – apparently someone is jealous of me. Jealous to the point where they’re publicly upset with me for X, Y and Z (none of these done directly *to* Mr. Jealous). Who knows how much of this is rumor?
In light of all that, I’m spending the afternoon wondering if I’m really happy with my life. If I’m where I want to be. Is there anything here to be jealous of?
Honestly, I think I’ve done as well as I could. Were I smarter, younger, faster, and unburdened by past and health, I might well be elsewhere. But I’m not. And where I am, physically, emotionally, socially, geographically, poetically, educationally – well, it’s not so bad. In the tapestry of my life, there are many bad threads avoided, many good ones woven in.
I am motivated, and dissatisfaction/desire plays a role in that, but I’ve always tried to bulkhead my analysis, critique, and desire for change from the most essential of self appraisals. And in that core I like myself. I’m not unfailingly proud of everything I’ve done, but it’s a good life.
With that in mind, I thought I’d point out to Mr. Jealous that everyone’s lives are aswim in the most miraculous events.
Mr. Jealous is married to a beautiful woman who cares deeply for him, a woman who has followed him and stuck by him through some pretty hair raising events. And her faith in her husband was vindicated, as he was. They have a wonderful, healthy, and intelligent child. He held this child as a baby, prayed over her, filled himself with all the sudden possibilities of her life. He gets to wake and sleep and eat with them. And although those we love are held hostage to fate and chance, there is a very real hope that they will all live, and live long, and happily, as a family. Miracle. And hard work also, I’m sure, though I cannot speak from experience.
I’m sorry I’m not around as much as you’d like Mr. J, sorry that I'm not doing what you think I ought to be doing. But I’m barely around for myself these days. Forgive me that. My life, at the moment, and for awhile, is that four second clip in the montage: read/study, eat, try not to grow fat. I was never a purely driven creature, never a brilliant needle. I’m more a murky armed gatherer who lives in possibilities and patterns. So whatever it is, you know it’s not a matter of unbending, as you may have been suggesting to people.