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In The Land of Dwell

September 11, 2011

…for Kathleen

Conscience is that still, small voice that is sometimes too loud for comfort.  ~Bert Murray

If you get through entire days in which you do not find yourself struggling to find the right way through the brush, to do the moral thing over the expedient thing, the hard thing over the easy, then the chances are that you’re not doing it right. Each day we are confronted with moral and ethical dilemmas, choices we must make: take the high road or the low, or some middle ground that leaves us feeling more than a little soiled. It’s that middle road that gets me, every time, and leaves me stuck.

I live, like many, I am sure, in the land of dwell. Bush Jr. once bragged that he made a decision and never looked back. If we don’t look back, we can’t learn from the mistakes. You see how well he learned. I don’t tend to admire people who don’t spend a wee bit of time in the land of dwell.

However, the price of living in the land of dwell permanently can be great. And it can be crippling. It’s definitely exhausting. I’m not sure I always find my way out, either. Maybe that’s obstinacy on my part, or that there’s no clear route. And oh, how that drives me crazy. There should be clear rights and clear wrongs, lines in the sand that aren’t to be crossed, not lines that zig, zag, curve, and weave.

And so I dwell on the little things that matter not and on the big that seem as if they absorb all the space. At least all my focus.

It’s a bit like Alice in Wonderland, maybe, this autism world, where monsters lurk, cats grin, and we’re all late, late, for a very important date.

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