When things have been rough
(and they’ve been rough recently)
I’ve had the tendency to escape
in my mind to the past, to what
I would consider happier times.
Today it strikes me that this is
a highly selective and greatly
illusory process that allows me
to hide from myself...
my failings,
my shortfalls,
and pockets of downright dysfunction.
Who can save us from ourselves?
It’s like sharing a foxhole
with an enemy combatant
while the war rages all around.
Can I look with pity on this man that is me?
As much as I want to separate myself from him?
Is this what it means to love one’s enemies?
There is truly only the reckoning of now.
***
