Far, far, far from done. So far from done. And almost undone.
Why do the wicked prosper? The question never gets old, although what really makes us insane is the unasked second half: “Why do the wicked prosper while I do not?” And it’s interesting and abstract until, until, until someone I know to be truly, deeply, unremittingly wicked is wildly prospering and I am not. And I am increasingly desperate.
My ex has so much money and is so broadly careless that $20,000 left his bank account in one month last year without his noticing. Another $600 a month has been siphoned off since January, and he didn’t notice that, either. My lawyer discovered that as we prepared for our latest effort at negotiation. I admit I don’t check my transactions daily, and I don’t study my bank statements, but I’d notice that. Meanwhile, I sweat spending $48 (including shipping! including fast shipping which I didn’t even want but there wasn’t an alternative) on a pair of ethically correct pan-gender lip balms sold by a black-women-owned small business. And another $48 on a bathrobe which I don’t need, but I wanted, I just wanted.
I am allowed to want and then to satisfy that want. And I am allowed wants that seem so big they will never be satisfied, or I fear they will never be satisfied.
My relationships are in order, that is my mantra. I am alive, I am in exceptionally good health. I have everything I need to get through the day.
And I’m suffering. And the only real liberation from suffering is death — I don’t care what the buddhists say. But, accepting things as they are in the moment, without needing to change this moment, does take the edge off. Probably more effectively than shopping, but I’m not sure how much I want to test that.
Another Door 