Unfortunately, my blogpression is even deeper than I feared and still has me tight in its grasp. I hardly ever even read my favorite blogs any longer. Would that make them my once-favorite blogs? Perhaps technically.
I just don't seem to have much joy anymore. Certainly no bliss.
Don't get me wrong: my LW and the Horde are a joy. Even the noise they make -- as hard as it is on my usually-aching head at the end of the day -- is music. They are my life and, honestly, the only thing that keeps me going some days.
All right, you caught me: most days.
I sat in my car this morning in the parking lot for several long minutes. All I could do was sit there, thinking, dreading the day. It took every ounce of physical strength and mental/emotional will power to leave the car and walk the fifteen steps into the building. Every minute today was torture. Not "Nancy Pelosi woe is me I voted for water-boarding before I voted against it even though it gets results and really is not considered torture compared to what the enemy does to our soldiers" kind of torture. More "being forced to listen to Nancy Pelosi read Maya Angelou poetry" kind of torture or "simply being forced to be in the same room as Nancy Pelosi" kind of torture.
And it is getting worse every day.
So back to my embarrassment: I hope that the readers I have will not have given up hope on me. I am trying; really, I am, despite all appearances.
I say I have little joy. That is not to say I do not have hope: I cannot blame my blogpression on the country's turbo-powered faster-than-light descent into
[Aside: if you don't understand what I mean, pick yourself up a copy and read it. It's not just fiction anymore. The book's sales have also, in the first four months of 2009, tripled the total sales in all of 2008.
No, I am not without hope. Just last month, a Prophet of God, His representative on Earth, Thomas S. Monson, urged the world to be of good cheer and have joy, and to have faith, and to never, never despair.
OK, so, I've already admitted here that I am falling short on good cheer, joy, and despair. Oops.
But I do have faith. And hope. And a loving caring family.
I am striving -- truly I am -- for good cheer, joy, and to remove despair.
I am also striving for my bliss.
"Bliss" has been much on my mind for the past year or so; my buddy JR in Salt Lake has a 50-year-old cousin that I've met a couple times. This is a really down-to-earth man who gave up the practice of law 4 years ago when the bankruptcy laws were changing. He started working with mortgages and saw the writing on the wall LONG before most of the rest of us did. He then dabbled with other areas of the law for a couple of years.
Then, a year ago, he abruptly up and quit to focus on his photography. He's loved photography, as a hobby, since he was in his twenties. JR has sent me examples of his work -- absolutely terrific work. I particularly like his floral work. He did some Olympic photos from the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake that are stunning. One is a composite piece that I haven't seen anywhere else: it shows all the different photo-wrapped buildings, at night, all aglow, with fireworks in the background -- a seamless, amazing piece, even though there is no one spot in the Salt Lake Valley from where he could have taken one photo and show all the buildings.
But I digress.
This is what he does now. My buddy JR says that he's never been happier.
I truly envy him. I have gone to a couple of his shows, not just to give him moral support, not just to revel in the art, but also out of selfishness.
Yep. I think it is an act of selfishness, so that I can feed off that joy of his, to glimpse someone who is truly happy.
I truly cannot imagine anyone in this specialized field of bankruptcy work who is truly happy. No one I know gets any real joy out of it; oh, there are those who seem to enjoy it, but they're always so angry about something and are more confrontational than anything else. I cannot classify that as joy. Even those who are very good at it are certainly not happy or joyful.
Is this what adulthood means? I hope not.
Even when we help someone who truly needs our help, when we truly do Good, those feelings do not last long in the bruising, crushing, daily emotional miasma in which we bankruptcy attorneys live.
I know my friends in Salt Lake, JR and J, are not happy.
I know I'm not.
That's why I'm looking for my "bliss" whenever I have a chance.
I hope one day to find it and throw all this to the wind.
Or, barring that, to hire a junior attorney to do all the work while I manage the firm.
And still hunt for my bliss.
