The eighth lap was always the hardest...
I ran track in high school. I did the mile and the two mile. With seven down and one to go I would always just want to be finished and the last lap really hurt. As yesterday made seven down one to go for another ordeal [EDIT 1/24/08: I'm talking about W], I'm bracing myself for a long, painful year. I should be more optimistic, but I'm mostly just tired and want the clown to go back to his ranch so we can attempt to pick up the pieces of the mess he's made. Having a nephew makes all the more real my obligation to future generations--what kind of world are we going to leave them? The alternative to hope is despair, so I try to go with hope. But it's hard sometimes. Sort of like finishing a two mile race.
UPDATE: In the spirit of this post I'm installing this widget.
UPDATE: In the spirit of this post I'm installing this widget.
Labels: politics, reflections
posted by russell at
2:24 PM
2 Comments:
"the clown to go back to his ranch"? Sound like a line from a Dylan song? I hope that this summer you will have time for total R&R to renew your mind, body and spirit. The daily-ness of life is like the 8th lap without some time for re-creation. I really identify because I am in that very same place. When you hold Carson for the first time your heart will flood with hope!
By
Rev. Judith's Journal, at 5:03 PM
I called mom, and now she realizes that the ranch to which the clown will be going is in Crawford. Sorry if my meaning was unclear to anyone else.
By
russell, at 1:13 AM
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