Where did the first half of September go? If I were to wager a guess, I’d say that it was September 7th. The calendar says otherwise. I believe what I see; although I am beginning to think that the ground I have always stood on, reality-wise, is not as firm as I once imagined. It is actually like a sink hole, and any one of us can now be sucked into the muck.

I was literally reminded of this today, at the open house, listening to our good friend Gene, talking about the 1964 Alaska earthquake. I had introduced him to Jacob Mann, a local reporter, saying “Gene remembers the 1964 earthquake.” Gene then spent several minutes going into great detail about the earthquake, and specifically about how the trees not only moved, but swayed and actually touched the ground. And the ground, well, it moved up and down.

Quite obviously, Gene told the story far better than I just did because Gene is a consummate storyteller. Jacob, the reporter, was intrigued.

Pam with flowers for the open house

I was left with the image in mind, of the ground being unstable for at least five minutes. And I thought, there is an analogy here – this is how I often feel. Am I, I wonder, who I was four years ago? I could go back and read the dispatches I wrote then, but I have an aversion to doing this. It would also be a waste of time.

My relations with others have changed. Those who I previously dissed are now friends. I can’t say any who were friends are now those who I am dissing. What I’ve learned is that it’s not a good idea to burn bridges. I did burn a few, but I am finding those I judged have been quick to forgive me.

A classmate when I was in college once said that people hate me because I stand on such high moral ground. Hearing this gave me reason to pause. I didn’t believe it then, but I do believe it now. What I now understand is that we as humans are fallible. We make mistakes, we make more mistakes, and we make even more mistakes. Our prefrontal cortex is often a detriment rather than the other way around.

Forgiveness. What a concept. I’ve never been able to wrap my head around it. I would just as soon forget than forgive. I think those I’ve dissed (I was right in the instances I am thinking about) know they were wrong and are glad that I’m being more accepting of them. Har har.

I am not going to forgive those who are tearing up our trails. And I am not going to forgive those who believe that god gave us the land so that we might develop it.

No, but I will forgive those who have made errors in judgement.

After writing this, the ground feels no firmer than before. But then again, it’s only mid-September.

Next: 254. 9/16/23: Birthday Eve