Going to the dogs

Today’s title is a phrase that I’ve concluded is misused or overused or both. Take a look at SiSi and Harry in the picture. They look like the antithesis of the standard meaning of "gone to the dogs."

do these dogs look deteriorated or awry?

Photo by J. Harrington

I’ve spent too much time this morning reading political assessments on Twitter. No Build Back Better; No Voting Rights. It’s soured my Christmas spirit. Another cloudy day isn’t helping much either. So, I think it best to share an old joke I remember from long, long ago. It’s a lead-up to a resolution I’m seriously considering for next year. No, not giving up entirely on politics, although that has some appeal. I want, and need, to figure out how to simplify life. There are too many recurrent crises, most of which  seem to result in a request for donations arriving in my inbox. I’m going to see if I can figure out how to broadly apply the theme in the joke below to most of my life. Else, much like COVID variants, political, ecological, economic, public health and related crises will dominate daily life without ever getting resolved.

May your Christmas week be filled with tidings of joy!

Why Worry?

There are only two things to worry about;

Either you are sick or you are well;

If you are well, there is nothing to worry about;

If you are sick, there are only two things to worry about;

Either you live, or you die;

If you live, there is nothing to worry about;

If you die, there are only two things to worry about;

Either you go to heaven or hell;

If you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about;

If you go to hell…

You’ll be so busy shaking hands with friends,

You won’t have time to worry;

So why worry?

Mary Oliver raises a similar theme in today’s poem. Perhaps there’s something to “don’t worry, be happy!” There’s no doubt Santa will fit down the chimney. Of course, there’s also “easier said than done."

I Worried

Mary Oliver

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?

Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.