Existential Angst

I’ve accepted (really? forever? for now?) that some days are better than others. Not in general — I accepted that a long time ago — but vis-a-vis this virus and the weirdness. Yesterday was one of those days. Zero. Zilch. Damn. “Deal with it!” yammered my psyche.

“Yeah, sure, but WHAT am I dealing with?”

“The fear of death, sweet cheeks. The fear that there is no future. ‘No future, no future, no future for you!!!'”

“Whoa. That’s heavy.”

“Yeah, well, there it is. ‘The future is uncertain….'”

“Shit so those aren’t just deep words in a Morrison song?”

“No, babe.”

Damn. So what do you do when you suddenly realize that you are afraid of death, and you are sure your dead mother is going to come and get you in 8 years? Seriously. This is some disturbed shit. My house isn’t haunted. I am.

Lots of people have said their dreams have been weird and scary since C-19 appeared on the scene. Mine too. Not always but often.

“This is when people need faith, sweet cheeks. You have to have the faith that it is going to be OK. You have to keep doing the things that make life meaningful. Just think, if this had never happened, you’d have been putting together a talk for the Rio Grande County museum to tell people about Swiss immigrants to the San Luis Valley and you would be reading from The Brothers Path and The Price. You’d be doing a timeline mural together with Louise. You’d have learned a lot of new things about the magical place where you live. Faith, Martha Ann, is DOING IT ANYWAY.”

“Denying the uncertainty?”


Once again the lesson in life is “Do it anyway.”

Tired of the existential questing I asked Bear if she would like to go with me out to the Refuge after dinner. The light was beautiful, the wind was blowing, sure the day had been hot, but it seemed that evening’s angled light might redeem everything.


23 thoughts on “Existential Angst

  1. I’m doing it anyway but cautiously.
    I thought I was going to move my rig. But why? Its beautiful here. There are less people than where I was planning to go. I think I’ll stay put a while longer. Maybe roll on as the cold weather comes.

  2. Thanks for this, Martha. Yes, those dreams freak me out too. And the dead mother part…yep that too. “Do it anyway”…makes sense. Even if – heaven forbid – there’s no future, we still have the present. ❤️

    • Dead mothers. Shudder. I think I’m going to do a painting of that bitch to expunge her evil from my psyche. Then burn it ritualistically on the tiny wood stove I got for the next time the power goes out. 😀

      • OMG I like the way you think. I have a box of letters that should be burned as well. I think I’ve kept them as evidence.

        • Ha ha ha ha ha!!! I don’t think that court will ever be in session. I recently got re-connected with a cousin who has very carefully NOT said anything about my mom. I guess my Aunt Jo clued her in some time. 😀

  3. Damn. I think you’re right. Probably is a statute of limitations anyway. I have siblings who hop, skip and jump around the mom topic as well. Quite a performance to behold. 🙂

  4. I believe that we are all haunted at times. Redemption in slanting rays from a setting sun – yep. But that faith is what lets us believe that we will draw the next breath, wake from the next sleep, return from the walk…

  5. I’m sorry you had such a rotten mother. My birth mother was just a wipe-out. So I have a different take on this: I look forward to seeing my dead mother, alive and sound in body and mind. I look forward to seeing the person she would have been in this world, had she not gotten bashed on the head so many times — or whatever caused her brain damage.

    Someday…when “Come unto me all ye who labour and are heavy-laden and I will give you rest,” becomes a reality.

    • My mom was good until sometime in the 90s. I don’t fully understand what happened to her, but I believe it was alcohol, probably a life time of abusing it more than any of us in the family knew. Anyway, a brain scan she had in the hospital near the end of her life indicated that. The image of your mom being “bashed on the head” is really awful. I hope she is also there waiting, the person she was born to be. ❤

      I'm writing my paper for the Rio Grande County museum on my Anabaptist family immigrating to America. Would you like to read it when I'm finished? It's mostly an overview of the history that you probably already know.

      • Sure. I would. I really don’t know much about yhe actual Swiss migration, except that they were helped by the Dutch branch and I think they went via Holland.

  6. The light is beautiful, Martha. Sure as hell, it is not the work of your mother. So completely understandable the way you are feeling. Wish you were here. We could have coffee on the front lawn and there are a few nice walks nearby. Plus, it’s winter.

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