Not going back

So, here I am and here we are.

My intention upon our return to France, back in November: to write a summary of the grand scram, to wrap up the loose ends in my thinking (as it stood then at any rate; my thinking always unravels and needs to get tied up again). To write about home and away, of near and far, of what we’d learned about the world and ourselves via coming and going. And of our plans for the future, of course. I thought we’d land and take some time to digest where we were, where we want to be, and what all this meant in our grand scheming schemes.

I wanted to ignore the outcome of the election for a little while and not turn my phone on when we landed back in Paris on Nov 6th after a 14 hour flight. I wanted to give myself a good night’s sleep before facing reality. But right when we touched down, everyone else lit up. I heard a man say, “il semble qu’il ait gagné” (it seems he won), and my world dropped away. Jet lag and grieving, it’s not a combination I can recommend. Add a little feeling worn out from long travel and our sudden escape from Vietnam, plus the anticipated horrors of the second round of psychopathy that the US was in for (and the contagion that is already spreading from that) left me reeling and regrouping.

Now that the initial shock has worn off, and the shock and awe of the new order is getting underway in earnest, my ideas of home are unraveling further. For as much as I’d chosen France as the place I belonged (the thought of returning to live full-time in the US has long been a non-starter), I realized that I always had the idea of the US as a back-up auxiliary home in the back of my mind. That notion has painfully proven false. You can’t go home again. I’ve changed and home has changed. The low-lying vicious stupidity that I long sensed in the US now knows no bounds and I prefer to keep it at an ocean’s distance.

Nevertheless, we’re all still here. There’s much to marvel at in this world. My thanks for this year: I’m grateful for the space and ability (read: hopefully enough resources, time, health, intelligence, and community) to adapt to these uncertain times. May we all have the necessary strength and courage. May we have enough hope. I like this quote from Cicero on knowing the future: “It’s a useless thing to know what shall come to pass; it is a miserable thing to be tormented for no purpose.” May we find joy anyway.

I will look to the future nevertheless. My plan for the year is to be utterly ungovernable, free and contrary. Disobedient, insubordinate, and ever wayward. Will you join me?

Cheers, because what the hell,

Maer

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