My Brush with Mortality

I did NOT drink last night. I went out and kept to the soft drinks and I'm very happy about that today. My stomach and my head are silently thanking me too.

Tuesday morning, I was so very very sick after writing the previous post. I was laying in bed at dawn with nothing but remorse. I kept thinking about my aunt who died of cancer because I was using the strategies for rehydration that I learned from her dealing with the after effects of chemo. Even as a witness, I still cannot imagine the horror of having to deal with that day after day.

During my recovery yesterday, I read an article by Tom Robbins which lifted my mood immensely. His article bemoans the state of literature today and its overweening darkness. And then came the line that jumped out of the page and grabbed me by the throat:

Among our egocentric sad sacks, despair is as addictive as heroin and more popular than sex, for the single reason that when one is unhappy one gets to pay a lot of attention to oneself. Misery becomes a kind of emotional masturbation. For those willing to reduce and permeate their ego....into submission, heaven on earth is a distinct psychological possibility.

I think need to listen to my guilty pleasure music (post forthcoming) and just laugh at myself.



["In Defiance of Gravity: Writing, wisdom, and the Fabulous Club Gemini", by Tom Robbins, Harpers Magazine, September 2004]