An officer
at traffic police said my Michigan driver’s license had to be one year old in
order to apply for an Omani license.
Before I left the flat this morning I had a sneaking suspicion there
might be an issue but I didn’t guess this one.
This is demoralizing. I think I can
still rent a car with my US license but I won’t be able to cross the
border. So? Any attempts now at getting to Dubai have
been squashed. I don’t know if I’ll find
grapefruit seed extract there anyhow.
The organic store that used to carry it has long departed.
It’s hard to
do any work now. I’ve got to come up
with a lesson plan for next week, introducing the thesis statement for a five
paragraph essay the students will need to write. My mind is blank, a full moon, the winter solstice approaches,
Christmas approaches, and there are reminders of places I’d rather be. And where would you rather be? In places I don't know how to remain, except for the land with coconut trees.
Surviving for reasons unknown.
Lots of ideas fizzle, adrift in a cosmological quandary. If my only hope is found in an ancient chant, what kind of
maddening hope is this? Imagine spirits
waiting for thousands of years. Ok, it’s
easy for them, they’re not constrained by time.
A thousand years is what five minutes?
That is depressing.
If it
weren’t for the media we wouldn’t know how awful life is for millions and billions. The Syrians, the CAR, the
generational poor, a third of the world’s very poorest live in one country,
India. What kind of hope do they
have? When is so much suffering too much suffering. Where is the hope for heaven on earth for the longsuffering? That 'heaven' on earth is a relative
and completely abstract space the worst of humanity will never see. If you experience heaven on earth because of
love, because of transcendent nature, remember it’s temporary and illusionary while a million others live in
hell. Where’s the compassion, where’s the
justice? Enjoy life while others suffer,
well that’s easy to remedy, I won’t think of others and that, according to the
Golden Rule, is wrong.
The full moon
rises in the east. What would I give to
be content. Mother Theresa, the saint of
darkness. And she was content? She knew her calling, who wouldn’t, experience
a vision and you’d follow, right? I can't get that woman's experience straight in my head.
I can’t wait
for 12.22.13.
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