Acedia

"...standard dictionary definitions of acedia [such] as 'apathy,' 'boredom,' or 'torpor' do not begin to cover it, and while we may find it convenient to regard [acedia] as a more primitive word for what we now term depression, the truth is much more complex. Having experienced both conditions, I think it likely that much of the restless boredom, frantic escapism, commitment phobia, and enervating despair that plagues us today is the ancient demon of acedia in modern dress." Kathleen Norris

I think the reason I struggle with the Dallas ambience is that from the first post-war years (during which I was born) I lived with the demon of acedia. It stalked suburban life with a vengeance. My mother suffered terribly from it, as did I during those times I spent among the bored housewives.

Here I am in the belly of that beast. Seeing the seas of rooves spreading like water out over open prairie is such a deja vu. As a child I could ride my tricycle to where our subdivision met a dusty forever. My mother's angst permeated our lives. In that edgy place she was stranded from her former life among a large and boisterous Irish Catholic family. Not suffocated so much as dissipated.

I meet the demon of acedia again.  I am, of course, trying to remedy my mother's ill. Trying to recreate that extended family which I know to be a better way from my many years on Guam. I am deep in doubt. Deep in doubt.

Papa Makes a Bucket Bed

Papa makes a bucket bed. He applies an important life skill: the ability to make a bed anywhere out of inexpensive, storable materials.

We wonder just how long we will be able to apply this life skill to the goals of our lives. This innovation was necessary when we could not sleep on the floor as in the past.

We stop ourselves from worrying about the future. Such worry, along with larger questions about the validity of our lifestyle, or the viability of life in a big city are eclipsed by the requirement of the day: a comfortable bed.