Things

Doubt cannot be assuaged.

It must be allowed to satiate itself on it’s object; to work itself out.

I have had a lot on my mind. I may have said here before that depression cannot be reasoned with. Like doubt it’s presence must simply be endured, you can sleep again when it says you can. I don’t believe I have ever been under the duress of both at once in such an onerous manner. I honestly don’t feel that there’s much I can do about it. I’m just waiting it out.

***

I just read a chapter out of Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man. I feel better.

Maybe Not the Worst Ever, but …

So I visited my brothers the day before Christmas Eve. I couldn’t visit them on Christmas Eve, since they’re going to Monterey. My Dad, meanwhile, was driving up north (to I know not where) last night on business. There’s a chance I might see him this morning, but that’s not likely to happen.

Still, all things considered, it could be worse. I got to spend Christmas Eve with my Mom at least, and today we go up to Lancaster to my Great Aunt Rosie’s for tamales. After that it’s to Big Bear to see my Grandparents and at least one uncle.

Things can only go uphill from here.

To leave this off on a somewhat more seasonally appropriate note:

A poem by G.K. Chesterton, via Chesterton & Friends. Though I can only hope that all the poetical allusions to the Christ-Child’s lustrous hair are just that; I would hate to think Chesterton really imagined Jesus’ had golden blond locks.

Which reminded me of another Chesterton piece I found in one of my English textbooks:

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

Which might be jumping the gun a bit, but a little context never hurt anyone.