Sunday, September 20, 2020

Just thinking




I'm editing this blog after my husband Doug's reaction--he said it sounded like I wanted to get rid of him and my family. And I thought I was saying that I care so much about them that I worry about losing them to the point of despondency. Anyway, my negative side sometimes gets the better of me.

I’ve been in a funk lately. Maybe it’s the ending of summer, which is always disappointing to me. But I’m teary for no good reason. I think one reason is that I’ve put too much value on things. Not just my home, clothes, car, etc., but on my relationships. On my work. When you think you can’t live without something or someone, you know you’re going to worry. And probably worry needlessly. 


I have to believe that my life is not an exercise in accumulating things. The more I value my home, clothes, etc., the harder it is to separate myself from them. As with my writing. I have to separate myself from my work. There is a ME here who is not my writing. Given the culture I live in with the media's intrusive values, it's easy to forget that life is not about ownership. 


I admire the Buddhist philosophy that's centered on living apart from the seductiveness of our world of things. I'm reminding myself to get back to me, the person who has purpose and meaning and will live, hopefully with courage, whatever the circumstances. 


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