#16 Guilt, the end of summer and how our bodies fail us sometimes
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In the northern hemisphere, August is a time for introspection and looking ahead to new beginnings. Another chance, another year. This week, I have compiled some writings on the feeling of sadness during summertime and the acknowledgment of the fact that we cannot always control our lives. Our summer plans can only go as far.
Slouching Toward Rigour
August, and other words. Notes on change.
August. August. August.
That word, a relic of Latin's augustus and French's auguste, both meaning "esteemed" and "venerable." The essence of that word, specifically that latter descriptor “venerable,” finds its echo within my own perception of August.
‘Nothing Is Ever Enough’
Author Joe Moran on why even high-achieving people often feel like failures.
In the book, I talk about a writer called Seymour Krim, who wrote a great essay called “To My Brothers and Sisters in the Failure Business.” I like that title. It suggests that failure is solidarity, which is never really talked about. We talk about failure as being for you, individually, a stepping stone to something else. Of course, it's true that some people can fail upwards and keep failing and be successful, but most of us encounter it eventually. We fail. Your body fails you. Life doesn't end well, as we know. So to think of failure as something that is not you. It's not your fault. It's a crazy system, but it's also something that we all share as human beings.
Merzouga
countless constellations had already decided my fate
I had been fortunate enough to amass some savings, and decided to fly to Morocco on a mission to drive across the Western Sahara—an errant turning toward the magic of wide open spaces, in search of a solution to my new found unemployment.
Over the following weeks, in a compact rental car, I tramped in and out of the cities and towns of Morocco, crossing the summits of the High Atlas Mountains before driving out across the desert toward a remote hotel in Merzouga.
Little fluffy clouds, storms
on learning to imagine, and live it all
At 55 I’m in the ball park of physical things just happening without warning. Even so, I hadn’t contemplated something like this happening under the supervision of a professional. It came as a total surprise.
It turns out that being sensible and doing what I thought was ‘all the right things’ was not a magic spell against trouble, granted fairly benign trouble in the grand scheme of things.
REID #151
I’m still unemployed as evidenced by this, this, and all the visual “art” I’ve been churning out. Everyone keeps telling me “the job search is hard because the market is bad right now”… and ya totally but also I’ve never in my life heard anyone be like: “The market is good!”. Except for my mom when she discovered Trader Joes: “Free samples all day every day! Now THATS a good market!”* (*she’d like me to let you know that they actually stopped doing free samples during covid, which was devastating but “had to be done for the safety of the nation”).
Mea culpa
Or the incessant feeling I am to blame
Guilt tends to derail any train of thought I conjure up. I wish Guilt would attack only when I have a sore throat; life would be simpler and I’d just be blamed throughout wintertime, maybe with a free-pass for Christmas. But no, the judge remains still sitting in her high podium, looking down on me like there’s blood on my hands and treats me like a common criminal. If I eat at a restaurant and dislike the meal I chose, you just lost twenty five dollars and that’s on you. When I go out for the night and my social battery runs out, you should’ve just stayed home, you don’t even like parties, do you? Oh but when I decide to stay in, what are you doing here? Losing time? Getting lonesome? Get out there, make some memories worth telling!
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Luisa this is such a great read and I’m really grateful to be included, thanks so much! I really appreciate your attention to curating these compilations for us all. 🫶🏼
ahh thank you for mentioning me <3