Tomorrow, I Believe in Tomorrow!
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed far away! I had a plan, it was thought out with the expert counsel of others, but evidently, it was not cautious enough. It is never possible to be too conservative; others just want to make you feel good, or else they are sadistic and enjoy watching people founder. Advice is worth what we usually pay for it, that is, nothing.
It is spring. Last summer's plan is still on hold while we await an offer to buy our house. Yes, time for change is overdue. Not just change, but change for good, change for the better? How about a positive resolution? I am asking for what is normal, no more, no less. Yet time and time again, our expectations lower, we dare not hope. We look at cars, we look at houses. We think of places we might go, we think of pursue our interests, freed from the crushing mortgages and expenses of maintaining two old places in constant need of improvement. Instead the values plunge and the maintenance sucks everything out. Our dreams come to nought, while notions, sometimes good ones, only evaporate. We are nothing but flies to mean, "wanton boys, who kill us for sport."
For a year we owned two houses. We were on paper at least, better off than ever. Now, without an income the houses have become liabilities, their values undermined. In my mind's eye I envision the hideous Fall of the House of Usher, with everything caving into a giant hole in the ground. In our case, the house would probably cave into the septic field or else the stonepile will slide out from under us, leaving a house cantelevered on a cliff. Sell one, own one, we thought we would be much more stable and secure, but we have yet to rid ourselves of the asset. Our hands are tied.
What will we do about next year and Sophie? We have more than a half of the tuition from this year outstanding. Next year will be another year of expenses. How patient will the school be in the coming months? And then there are the credit lines, pushed to the limit, a personal loan from Clay, and we are out of cash again, just two months later. Who and where do we turn to next for help? As I read The Good Earth with its cycles of famine and fortune, the message so far is Wang Lung's rootedness to his land, the earth is good to him, it enriches him and anchors him. It lets him know who he is. The only times he loses himself are the times when he loses the connection, the times of famine and flood when starvation and boredom turn him away from his fields. I don't know how the book ends. Pearl Buck has sown many seeds of tragedy, and it remains for me to see how they will find resolution. There have been so many real life lessons in the story, lessons about tenacity and compromise, about duty and love, about human frailties and strengths. Even unfinished, it is an amazing novel, with a rare universality, even this long after it was written.
I don't know how we are going to come out of the situation we are in, only that we must come out. It is a potentially bitter, real-life lesson that I am learning, as are most lessons. Life is not a fairy-tale, but it must be a question of not giving in to cynicism or bitterness, of seeing things positively, through a rose-tinted glass, if necessary, and always looking forward to tomorrows, let alone better ones, ever thankful, ever sure.
How ironic it is to be perpetually locked into this cycle of fear, nearly always filled with worry, nearly always afraid. Do we invite it upon us? This must be the human condition, not just our problem, the way it often is. And if it is not, then I have had a spate of lousy deals, and it is about time we are dealt a good hand, even though the probability for each hand is just the same each time the cards are dealt. Nevertheless,it feels like when Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern flip a coin that always comes up "heads." Had they delivered their note from King Claudius, it would have been off with their heads. With luck such as theirs, they should have tucked tails between their legs and run!
It is spring. Last summer's plan is still on hold while we await an offer to buy our house. Yes, time for change is overdue. Not just change, but change for good, change for the better? How about a positive resolution? I am asking for what is normal, no more, no less. Yet time and time again, our expectations lower, we dare not hope. We look at cars, we look at houses. We think of places we might go, we think of pursue our interests, freed from the crushing mortgages and expenses of maintaining two old places in constant need of improvement. Instead the values plunge and the maintenance sucks everything out. Our dreams come to nought, while notions, sometimes good ones, only evaporate. We are nothing but flies to mean, "wanton boys, who kill us for sport."
For a year we owned two houses. We were on paper at least, better off than ever. Now, without an income the houses have become liabilities, their values undermined. In my mind's eye I envision the hideous Fall of the House of Usher, with everything caving into a giant hole in the ground. In our case, the house would probably cave into the septic field or else the stonepile will slide out from under us, leaving a house cantelevered on a cliff. Sell one, own one, we thought we would be much more stable and secure, but we have yet to rid ourselves of the asset. Our hands are tied.
What will we do about next year and Sophie? We have more than a half of the tuition from this year outstanding. Next year will be another year of expenses. How patient will the school be in the coming months? And then there are the credit lines, pushed to the limit, a personal loan from Clay, and we are out of cash again, just two months later. Who and where do we turn to next for help? As I read The Good Earth with its cycles of famine and fortune, the message so far is Wang Lung's rootedness to his land, the earth is good to him, it enriches him and anchors him. It lets him know who he is. The only times he loses himself are the times when he loses the connection, the times of famine and flood when starvation and boredom turn him away from his fields. I don't know how the book ends. Pearl Buck has sown many seeds of tragedy, and it remains for me to see how they will find resolution. There have been so many real life lessons in the story, lessons about tenacity and compromise, about duty and love, about human frailties and strengths. Even unfinished, it is an amazing novel, with a rare universality, even this long after it was written.
I don't know how we are going to come out of the situation we are in, only that we must come out. It is a potentially bitter, real-life lesson that I am learning, as are most lessons. Life is not a fairy-tale, but it must be a question of not giving in to cynicism or bitterness, of seeing things positively, through a rose-tinted glass, if necessary, and always looking forward to tomorrows, let alone better ones, ever thankful, ever sure.
How ironic it is to be perpetually locked into this cycle of fear, nearly always filled with worry, nearly always afraid. Do we invite it upon us? This must be the human condition, not just our problem, the way it often is. And if it is not, then I have had a spate of lousy deals, and it is about time we are dealt a good hand, even though the probability for each hand is just the same each time the cards are dealt. Nevertheless,it feels like when Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern flip a coin that always comes up "heads." Had they delivered their note from King Claudius, it would have been off with their heads. With luck such as theirs, they should have tucked tails between their legs and run!
posted by Stonechuck at 9:10 AM
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