Count your blessings, obviously (I’ve lived a life of undeserved privilege and luck. That can change, obvs we all live under a sword of Damocles) but being grateful for what you’ve got, and trying to contribute meaningfully are apparently solid ways not to be a miserable douche.
This particular maundering comes from the fact that today was the first day in almost two weeks I have done a proper (12 lap) yomp and – frankly – it might be the years are catching up with me.
I went out last Sunday and my faithful backpack (actually, Dr Wifey’s) finally gave up the ghost, with a 5kg plate dangling out (luck: it could just have crashed out onto my calcaneus.) The replacement bag I bought was too nice and was requisitioned by Dr Wifey. On Wednesday, before the horror of Annual Council, I bought a replacement, but haven’t got off my fat (and it is) arse to go for the yomp.
I did it today. On the down side, I only did 9 laps (I probably had a 10th in me. Maybe, conceivably, an 11th). My weight is plateaued – dehydrated weight was 116.7kg. Maybe shouldn’t have been comfort eating this week… On the upside, (and always look on the bright side of life), my BP is – for the first time in however long, “normal” – 115/74. So, I’m at lower risk of a neurological event…
What’s going on? I think my mood hasn’t been great – and that may be – in part- simply down to not getting out there and doing the long yomps, with the endorphins they bring. Alongside that, I’ve been taking a close(r) look at three things I spend a lot of mental energy on – activism, academia and local government politics – and, yeah, well, um…
So, Count Your Blessings, every day: The cat came back from his 24hr AWOL. Dr Wifey is amazing. I caught up with various good friends. I read a couple of good books (waves at Roderick Thorp’s estate). I am about to do a bunch of interviews that promise to be very interesting and useful for me and others.
Yes, the prospects for our species are … well, I will be very very surprised if shit doesn’t start going seriously south in the next 15 years. They are already are, for many members of our species, not to mention all those other species with which we “share” this planet.
But I have known this, been waiting for the other shoe to drop since about 1991. There was a brief window between the nuclear stand-off cooling a bit and the full awareness that – long-term – we were not going to deal with “the greenhouse effect.” Or is that just an artefact of my age and the whole Mannheim cohort thing? In the end, it doesn’t matter, I guess. What matters is what we do, what use we make of our luck (absurd, in my case) and our talents, for ourselves and others?
marchudson.net 
Sorry you are feeling depressed, but I have to confess the win by the National Party in the NSW Hunter region has sent me into a bit of decline. The kids marched in their thousands for action on climate change on Friday, and these yobs voted for climate change in the bi-election on Saturday. What hope have we?
Margaret Lee
Yep, agreed. The old people are voting out of fear and wilful blindness, and not a little bit of selfishness. I have been pretty sure since 1991 that we were screwed as a species, and I had a vasectomy in 2004 (before bringing any more humans onto the planet). Nothing that has happened since 2004 to make me think I made the wrong choice… Shit be coming, and soon. Those who will suffer the most are the least to blame. It’s mind-bogglingly immoral, but there you have it.