It is overcast and threatening rain on this Sunday morning. The weatherman says in about an hour, I can look for a deluge for another hour, then tapering off as the rain bands roll majestically over this tiny spot on the map.
Today is was spicy sausage, chopped bell peppers and yellow onions in a scrambled egg hash, and reheated biscuits from the fridge. Yeah, nuked biscuits are a tad on the chewy side, but we waste not so we want not. Put enough strawberry jam and salted butter on them, and they go down fine. The spicy sausage is still pleasantly burning in my tummy, but I am certain that I will pay for the pleasant feeling later.
I was going to attempt a short story, but when I sat down to write, a coffee post spun off my fingers. A friend’s loss of her beloved dachshund of 16 years has me pondering about life, loss, grief and joy. It seems so odd that as a specie we mourn death when death is such an inevitability. However, we do. Moreover, our pets appear to grieve as well.
In addition, of course, such pondering leads me to wonder about such things as an afterlife. The rational side of me (as in rationalism as opposed to being sane) finds no evidence of an afterlife in nature. The empiricist side of me does. I am conflicted. How many coincidences does it take before one declares a miracle? Is life simply the sum total of my experiences? That I do grieve is empirical evidence that life does not continue. Then was that profound spiritual experience I had in 1973 negated?
Such thoughts remind me that I am still a depressive. They darken my soul in gloom and despair. And I cannot write fables when I am in such despondency. Therefore, I write coffee posts. And my universe completes one full circle again.