Impermanence

I hadn't quite realized there were discussions about Twitter spelling the death of blogs, but it doesn't altogether surprise me. Not just because I blog less often since I began tweeting, but also because it seems to be part of human nature - or perhaps just the current media-driven incarnation of it that dominates here - to want to make such proclamations.

I think it's related to the way that people in the city get upset about things changing in their neighborhoods. Don't get me wrong, I get sad when my favorite restaurants suddenly close; when the beautiful man with the equally beautiful wine shop forlornly shut his doors and moved back to France.

But I also recognize that that is the nature of the city. It is a living, breathing entity, and living breathing entities grow, change, shed skins, lose hair, and so on.

It's also part of life - and a very difficult one - that things die. People die. Pets die. Relationships die. We die.

I've spent a good portion of my life avoiding that, and another portion fearing it, and still another portion thinking, really, this must be okay somehow. Otherwise it wouldn't be. The world would be arranged some other way. If this is the way things are, then this is the way they are.

I am sure I am not expressing this well enough, but there's not much lather that can be added to the bare facts in this case. Death, dude. It just is. So we might as well get used to it. I don't mean that we shouldn't react naturally when someone close to us dies. That's bound to be - and, I think, meant to be - devastating. I just mean that life is not a standstill kind of arrangement.

Stop laughing, Boywich; I know I am the worst offender. Well, not exactly - it's the transition between one state and another that ruffles my feathers.

I am, of course, in just such a state at the moment. Not so much of transition but of nebulousness. And I'm doing okay with it. Just a faint sensation of spiritual dizziness.