Between the Blows

"Lucky life isn't one long string of horrors / and there are moments of peace, and pleasure, as I lie between the blows."
- Gerald Stern

I am tremendously lucky, in so many ways I could never name them all. I am home, I have my friends around me & they'll do whatever they can to help me. I love and am loved. I have the best dog in the universe. My health is good. I like myself. I have all I really need. I am proud of my skills & accomplishments. I can cook & buy myself flowers & get rested, get massage, get out for a dose of live music or some library books or some good food when I feel sad.

Last night I made candles with my friends, had delicious Chinese food in honor of the Year of the Sheep, and I did good work at my job.

What is difficult with me is that when I am sad, I am only ever comforted by insight, or a crystallization of a thought I feel to be true and useful. No drug or experience or person or object or sensation can be guarranteed or even likely to do this. For me, most often, writing and talk with someone I trust do it.

I'm not complaining about being sad, mind you. I think there's worth in some sadness. My sadness seems often to help me get at what I think, and to find something true and useful.

May it do so always and not first or more quickly be the poison it sometimes seems to be.