Blindness Stew

Feeling good, however fleetingly, about the world.

A water view from Ontario, Canada.

Bad day of a bad week of a bad year of a bad 10 years.

Climate catastrophe. Cartoonishly evil monsters demolishing America, on the way to destroying the world. Major health crises for my loved ones that keep me up at night. Horror and tragedy wherever I turn.

Thank God for Alan Wagner. I’ll explain why in a moment.

Lately, as promised, I’ve looked for every opportunity, at least in this space, to avert my gaze from the headlines. This administration may be dismantling everything that made America America, but it leads the world in cortisol. So avoidance made sense. Notably, ostriches don’t have to go to therapy. So, yeah, I tried. But with the convergence in my world of those other frightening events, I’ve again found myself struggling to cope. In my despair, I’ve even wondered why I bother dragging myself, nearly sleepless, out of bed in the morning.

But here’s the thing: If the question is why get up, there are answers. And they are the subject of today’s meditation: to enumerate, amid all the trauma, the many rewards that come with courageously taking the next breath.

Mostly it’s a list of experiences requiring little explanation. “A baby’s laughter” pretty much speaks for itself; why gild the lily? In some cases, though, I’ve linked to sound, text or images so you can delight in what delights me — and perhaps salve your own existential crisis. (If you are somehow not going through one, I don’t know exactly what to say. But good for you, I guess.) Now, herewith, submitted for your approval, some simple joys of being alive:

A baby’s laughter
A bright, crisp autumn day
A made bed
A perfect steak, or black ink risotto or yellowtail or curry
A pleasant random encounter — altogether, I’ve had more joy at the cashier aisle than performing for multitudes
A hot shower
A water view, the ASMR of vistas

Hey, look at them again, one by one, and reflect. Maybe Mick Jagger can’t get no satisfaction. But you can. I mean, these are not peak experiences I’m citing. They’re utterly commonplace, which is the whole point. We are absolutely surrounded with contentments which, by their very common nature, are ridiculously undervalued. Sure, maybe they merely punctuate the gauntlet of hard knocks, but in that moment they are life affirming. That shower. It’s not that you fail to appreciate it. What you fail to do is savor it. Maybe you occasionally take stock and count your blessings, but that won’t do it. You have to carry them with you.

As if. These delicious interludes are so evanescent you forget them nearly at once. Divorce and illness linger. Conflict and disappointment linger. Fear and grief linger. Joy you let slip through your fingers like sand. Which is pretty fucking stupid. You remember 9/11 and the Space Shuttle Challenger. But that summer morning coffee staring at the lake, its surface rippling ever so slightly in the breeze, that’s just gone? What’s the matter with you? You have something against peace and serenity? Idiot.

Gosh, I hope you don’t take that the wrong way. Just because you’re a damn fool doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from an exercise in amateur Cognitive Behavioral Therapy/sermon of gentle affirmation. Let us affirm more. Let us affirm our asses off. And when I say “us,” I mean you. And when I say “you” — well, obviously — I mean me. It is, after all, my own personal despair that got us into this conversation to begin with. So here are more precious gifts to cherish, in most cases absolutely free of charge. Remember: Look at them one by one and let them sink in.

ASMR
Buzzer beaters
Dogs, who are always happy to see you and never disappoint you
Flying dreams
Friends and family
From the mouths of babes
Good news
Gossiping friends and family
Guys and Dolls
Heroin (guessing)
Learning
Love
Newscast bloopers
O Mio Babbino Caro, Puccini
Other people’s virtuosity
Pride
Relief
Satisfaction — whether a meal when you’re ravenous, a bathroom visit or a job well done (Extra credit for completing a checklist and adding an item that you took care of even though it wasn’t on the list, then crossing that out, too. Such an odd source of happiness, but it makes you feel so good.)
Schadenfreude, despite the foundation of others’ misery it’s built upon
Shakespeare’s sonnets
Sunset
The smell of a snowfall so pure and fresh it opens your heart
Vermeer

Once again, almost none of these things costs you a penny — another reason, in this society that measures happiness with dollar signs, for devaluing the very feelings that elevate us. But you’ve got to switch accounting methods, from cash to accrual, because I’m actually gifting you some priceless treasures. Click on “Vermeer.” Click on “Buzzer beaters.” Click on “From the mouths of babes.” Wonderments, one and all. And I’ve saved the most profound for last. It not only brings me joy — in this case, laughter — it fills me with hope for humanity. Namely, that true genius is also everywhere around us. Not in museums and concert halls and The Tonight Show, but just out there. One example is an 11-year-old kid, Courtney Hadwin (whose jaw dropping performance you’ll see if you click above on “Other People’s Virtuosity”) bringing down the house on America’s Got Talent. But that is ultimately still mainstream. There are so many more virtuosos on social media, who create their masterpieces for relatively meager audiences but wind up as memes percolating up from the anonymous masses.

That’s where Alan Wagner comes in. As I said, lately I’ve had a rough go of it, pain and horror closing in on me as if I were a Hollywood action hero about to be crushed by a villain’s industrial ram. It’s a desperate feeling. But then my daughter sent me an internet image, created by Wagner (@TrueWagner), a guy whose comedy ouvre is constructed of realistic but absurd handbills posted on utility poles. Or, at least, resembling handbills posted on utility poles. It’s all, you know, pretend. This is what I was sent:

I laughed. So hard. All day. This was on the weekend, and every time I think of it, I laugh hard still. Because how? How does he imagine this gag? How does he produce this pitch-perfect parody, weird clip-art and all? How does he know not to include one scribbled-in comment that just says “Plenty of Hugs!” or something like that to put the other comments in perspective? I would have agonized for days over that choice, had I the wicked imagination and native hilarity to conceive of the idea to begin with. Which I certainly have not.

I love you, Alan Wagner. (See “love,” above). I got out of bed without resistance this morning. Because it’s all so worthwhile.

That’s it. Sermon over. Permit me to take you out with music.

You’re Always on my Mind. Twist and Shout. Stardust. The Sound of Silence. Paper Bag. The Holly and the Ivy. And, of course, of course, of course, the Nancy Wilson song, covered here magnificently by Chrissie Hynde: How Glad I Am.