I find my self longing for the turmoil of the hurricane that never happened.
Yesterday, after the much prophesied storm I was disappointed not to wake up to chaos. I wanted the chaos, the system not working, people on the streets, walking, some working together, the blitz spirit and then I thought of the trees. The trees help me so much and in my desired chaos many of them would have been uprooted and died - I couldn't reconcile this with my longing for the catharsis. i voiced my disappointment in a glib way to my mother's carer and she put me in my place ' but people could have been killed and their property damaged and it would cause so much stress'. I felt humbled and naughty but militant - property? Stuff? the matrix, clinging to accumulated, hoarded, empty meaningless, false, MDF stuff!
I spent loads of yesterday listening to Listen by Beyonce - she finds the anger and the hurricane but somehow the through the expression there is a cleansing. For me there is some kind of diaphram that frustrates my expression. And then you wrote this article about the Greys. I have empathy and can express feeling but there is a raw point Beyonce passes where I freeze.