I’ve been nursing some wounds.
Some are healing quite nicely and others – I have not had the temerity to inspect.
I am only just recovering from the election results. Stupefying, to say the least.
But I won’t get into that right now. It still hurts. But I should have made an allowance for this kind of hurt.
The kind of hurt that only happens to people that hope. You see hope is such an expensive emotion, not to be dispensed with in a casual way.
Because when you hope, the only currency you can use to trade in that emotion is a piece of your soul. Aah, it hurts.
I think hope is so intertwined to our soul, so interwoven to our deepest aspirations that the disappointment of not gaining what we hoped for is a blow to the soul.
But I don’t want to talk about that and I know you don’t want to read about that.
And even before the hurt of the election results happened, I was already hurting. Trying to come to terms with the death of one of my most beloved uncles – Paul Mambo. Maybe one day when it doesn’t hurt so much, I will blog about him. But right now it hurts.
You know the kind of hurting that hurts so bad you can’t even pinpoint its specific location? You know that funny solidarity that the body, the mind, the soul and the heart show by hurting on behalf of whatever hurts -: until you’re just a mass of hurt.
Aah, it is too much.
Anyway, I just stopped by to say “it’s been a while” and I’m hoping you’ve been keeping well.