Seven ... The Hard Way (1)

We are all to some degree caught up in the compression of daily living, which seems more and more to manifest itself, increasingly articulately so, through the ocean of our repressed feelings. I figure you probably either feel intimately the reality of all that's terribly wrong, twisted, broken and breaking, in this ludicrously strange season of time, or ... you don't feel anything at all. Whichever category-extreme one belongs to, these responses to the challenges and trials of the "everyday grind" are telling us something, and I think a big part of what it's telling us is that we're both running out of emotional string and running out of time.

On the feeling side, people are or are becoming ever more wingy, unpredicable, angry, intolerant and intolerable; fractured, like a window slowly but surely shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. Everything feels amplified all the time, and the shrill peak in volume all around us, that can't be contained, is spilling over the adjoining borders of the normally tidy compartments we tend to like to store our emotional stuff in, like water breaching levees, forcing us to face the fact that, firstly, we have a real & growing problem on our hands, and, secondly, that the requisite clean-up will require a prodigious effort beyond what most of us are readily equipped for.

The non-feeling folks are only more slightly worse off because they aren't really living at all, and so refuse to recognize or validate the signs of the times, which we need to see in order to escape.

Can I get a witness?