These are merely a few of the various sources of angst which I am currently experiencing. And they are all issues over which I have no influence.
But the waiting does give us an opportunity to muse on the essence of those issues, to consider precisely why we feel so helpless: why we are denied the opportunity to act. We can think. We can feel. But what we think and feel is impotence, an inability to influence events, a lack of engagement with the processes that affect our lives.
We are not even in control of our ourselves. As Sartre says, we are ‘trapped in existence’.
Trapped in existence, Jill and I lead a moderately comfortable life: children, grandchildren, good friends, a nice house. All that good stuff.
But that does not eliminate anxiety. It merely mitigates. And I am waiting still for the freedom that Sartre promised would be the outcome of that anxiety.
True, it is about choice and the inability or unwillingness to make choices (which is, of course, in itself, a kind of choice).
Unfortunately, choices - meaningful choices - are usually false or fraudulent. They are hostages to fortune. And those who make those choices are making the wrong ones.
Which makes me even more anxious. And even more angry.
Sorry about all this. You’ve caught me on a bad day.
Today from the everysmith vaults: In keeping with my mood, Shostakovich Symphony #15. Kirill Kondrashin and the Moscow Philharmonic.