[November 2004 journal entry]
I wrote this poem in response to well-meaning individuals who have asked if I am depressed --
If I seem despondent, I am thinking about . . .
the loneliness associated with persisting in weeding out weak ideas
or
how hard existence is for the vast majority of people
or
the haunting faces of severely damaged sufferers
or
the shift toward and momentum for the United States to be a theocracy and a ‘religious’ state
or
how institutionalized uncritical thinking and injustices are
or
how my affluence implicates me in the inequities and injustices that victimize the powerless
or
how doubtful it seems that I am making any sort of lasting difference
or
. . . .
To have your eyes open indiscriminately to ‘life under the sun’ is to be near despondence.
To learn to ‘see from below’ is to be near despondence.
To be ‘with the word face to face’ is to be near despondence.
To be near despondence is not to be without hope or humor.
Listen with me to ‘the blues’.
