Last night, I fell over exhausted and slept for eleven hours. There was no objective reason for this. I was a little short on sleep because I had to stay up very late to talk to the IRS in the USA and they're only open during my night. But all is (mostly) resolved and though I will have to make another midnight phone call, it should be a simple one.
It was a fairly busy day, but not inordinately so. I am no more stressed than I ever am when trying to write the first draft of a book, when I resent every interruption and distraction as taking me away from the highly focused concentration I need to go live in the Meiji Era and figure out What Comes Next in the stories of my characters. Yet, I just dropped over and conked out.
Japan is coping well. Japan adapts, adopts, figures things out and goes forward. This doesn't necessarily happen smoothly but it does happen. At least Japan acknowledges change. This does not seem to be happening in the US, where people continue to scream, whine and cry about "returning to normal," which simply point-blank is not going to happen. I'm trying to avoid getting embroiled in that. It's so horrible it's even lost the fascination of some disaster you can't tear your gaze away from. I just can't watch. Joseph Conrad's "The horror! The horror!" comes to mind.
Evel, a wonderful cat I was privileged to know, would look outside sometimes and get this look on his face. "It's all too weird out," his expression would say, and he would retreat someplace that wasn't.
That's how I feel. I think that's how everybody feels. I think I have weirdness exhaustion.
I'm trying to be normal. I'm trying to stay sane. I pursue my work. Despite the utter mess of book publishing, selling and even buying right now, I plod on, concentrating on writing the best book I can. If there is little I can do about getting my books out to readers one way or another, I can at least write a new one. At that, I am trying my level best. I am healing from an injury, and that's going to go on for a while. So again I plod on, and will continue to plod on with exercise, more exercises, braces, appointments and so on. The minutia of life continue daily. Plod on. I continue my Buddhist practice, of course, because without that I could easily sink into a pit so profound I might never get out. I'm far from perfect, but at least I am consistent and doing the best I can. What I have learned over the years is that the best you can do it the best you can do, and the best you can do is always enough. Plod on.
We have entered the metaphorical Mines of Moria. There might have been wonder and joy here once, but it is lost in the horrors of pandemic, political upheaval, social unrest, the ripping apart of America and incipient wars everywhere.
The only way out is through. We can't go back. That way is blocked by the very universe itself. Even the dragons can't turn back time.
We have no choice but to keep going. We must plod on, step by step, as best we can, looking towards a future that is no doubt going to be different but we can't make better unless we get there. Plod on, one day at a time, one step at a time, doing the best we can with each one.
The only way out is through.