Reality is a hard place to live

Dear President Trump,

On the way home from church today there was huge cloud formation that looked just like a person lying on their back. The head was to the South, the arms angled out to the sides, and the legs pointed North. I was on the freeway so I could only take quick little looks to check to see if it really was person-shaped and if it was holding its form. Fortunately it mostly held its shape until I got home. By then, though, the head was quite a bit less round and the legs had merged and formed a skirt, but it was still recognizable as a humanoid shape. Laura even thought so and she didn’t seem to be humoring me too much. I’d been thinking about my brother-in-law (BIL) intensely for the previous hour so I pretended for a few minutes that the universe was giving me a sign that he’s ok and is out there somewhere. It was comforting even though I don’t actually think it’s true.

It’s weird how soothing it is to let myself think things and quasi-believe them for a little bit even when I know they aren’t real. I have a feeling you know a lot about that phenomenon yourself and that it’s why you reputedly tune in slavishly to Fox & Friends; they tell you what you want to hear and you get to hang out in a make-believe cocoon where you can do no wrong and the only people talking are talking about how awesome you are. You almost certainly have to know it’s a load of crap, but La La Land is so much more comfy-cozy than reality it’s no wonder you have planted yourself there.

After all, reality really is a hard place to live. Laura and I were talking this morning about how sad we are these days and how even with this omnipresent feeling state, we are both finding we have to consciously make ourselves remember that BIL is dead. We decided this is the case because it still doesn’t compute at a basic, basic level. I suppose this is probably not uncommon when someone succumbs really fast to an illness or dies suddenly in an accident or is killed. I’ve actually had this same kind of feeling more days than not since you were elected; it so doesn’t compute that you are our president that I’ve had to consciously remind myself it’s true. Reality really is a hard place to live. At least right now.

May we be safe to be sad.
May we be ok taking short breaks from reality now and again.
May we take care of each other when reality is hard.
May we leave room for the possibility of making peace with reality.

Tracy Simpson

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