Metaphors and imagination are wonderful tools with which to control our mood. Imagine, for example, that the sky seems to be going crazy. Then imagine two scenarios. In one, you are secure in a snug cabin while the storm rages. In another, you are harnessing its power and surfing the changes in exhilaration.
I’ve fluctuated between both states, as I guess is normal. As an elder, I find many current social turmoils frightening and even incomprehensible. And some days I retreat into my snug internal cabin, shut out interruptions, and read or putter away at projects while the weather is forgotten. But other times I float above the angry clouds, enjoying the wild entertainment, even dipping in here and there as the notion strikes.
I think in many eras, those fortunate enough to reach old age have been confused and upset at how their world has become different and usually more hostile. When that happens to me I severely remind myself how privileged I am to have been granted so long a period of existence.
Of course, that does not help the young _ even if they ask me for my opinion it is usually of little help. I have mostly outlived my days of riding the storm, even though I can remember doing so when (I think) the storms were far different than they are now.
HuntingtonHarborThoughts 