BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES

There’s no mistaking it.  It’s twisting and churning in the muddy distance like a crocodile.  No matter how well you prepare for the worst, when it’s finally at your doorstep, all bets are off. 

There are no simple days for which to yearn.  Nobody grew up under ideal conditions, so there’s no point pining for something that doesn’t exist.  There is only right now and the choices one can make in the moment.

But a person caught up in anger doesn’t want to hear Zen explanations.  They want drama.  They want the other to suffer equally, as battered and punished by rage as they are.  It’s compromise that they demand, but are themselves unwilling or unable to provide.  Because they are caught up the past, their demands seem reasonable.  All they want is that we stay exactly as we are . . . forever.

That’s not going to happen.  Even the most entrenched change over time.  Inevitably, just as when a fast moving cold front collides with a warm stagnant air mass, friction will result.  The storm will test the mettle of any relationship, whether it be personal or professional.  It will be stripped down to its essence and then an examination can be made.  Is it integral, based on love and right action, or is it a fiction, invented to conform to illusions and flights of fancy?

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