Today, sadness lurks on the periphery of my consciousness like a vulture circling carrion. Some days a glimpse of its destructiveness suffices to keep it at bay; other times it swoops in and smothers me with its wings.
I let go of many connections to the outside world after I lost my job. I doubt if I watched a dozen newscasts since; the newspaper subscription lapsed. Blame 30 years of lies and mistruths. Blame 30 years of observing man's inhumanity. Blame 30 years of loyalty discarded like so much rotten garbage.
The good in that 30 years I continue to carry with me. Bruce, Jim, Karen, Vivian, Marty, Rick and countless others who have slipped away over the years. I care for each in a way you care for someone you work with elbow to elbow and then commiserate afterward. We proved strong as a team when we were given the trust to do our jobs. We rose to the occasion many times. Compatriots.
Now inertia clutches my being. Though a job helped to define me, it is not me. Nor am I a house or a defective body. A suit of protective armor hides me well.
Each of us wears armor; and though it deflects, it also diminishes. The process of shucking the armor can leave us vulnerable, so most of us choose to remain hidden safely inside the shine.
We require trust to drop our defenses. Each time we offer trust and it is abused, we lose a part of ourselves. The experience hones our being.
Perspective means much. Looking back on struggles, I am grateful. Now, pain seems to have free rein.
Later, dude.
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