Musings

August is almost over. Lost two friends this month, spent two weekends at funerals and services (and the weekend before at a crematory). Thus a personal grief and sadness intervened into my ongoing grief and sadness about what humans have done and have yet to do to the other species on the planet. (see the current Mother Jones article on the BP coverup) And while the focus and attention of the arrangements were totally on the deceased and the bereaved, the ceremonies were public community events which resonate in multiple ways.

There's that panicky feeling that I haven't actually done something I thought I would always do -- play in a band, say, or write a novel. The standard response to this would be to use the event as a spur to get right on those things, not to waste a moment. And that sneak of a snarky feeling, jealousy, and the unbidden question "Will mine be as celebrated?" and the corollary, start planning your farewell ceremony now. I can almost instantly construct a sound track of my favorite songs (old hippy classics every one) and then there's that crack of regret and understanding of these most recent losses: there went someone who would have totally understood r my wackiness because they were more anti-authority and anti- bureaucracy than I dare to be. In losing a friend, I have lost a witness to myself and our time.