January 17, 2015, Prescott- Since I was small, I could not envision forcing anyone into a solitary existence.  Pariah-hood does not become us, though there are some who need a period of isolation from those they hurt or deceive.  I thought a lot about these sorts of issues, over the past couple of days.  Like anyone else, I can get caught up in emotionally-charged issues, and come down on one side or another.  When the issue is properly resolved, though, all parties are clear with one another and there is either compromise, or full resolution.

If we look upon those who oppose us or try to force our hand, it’s easy to wage war on a personal level.  In the quiet of the night, or the ensuing early morning, though, personal war rings hollow.  I’ve had a few conflicts, of late, one of which is at least at the live-and-let-live stage; another, which occurred this afternoon, was resolved by both of us learning what we did wrong and taking the right lesson going forward.  A good friend has been there for me, to help in processing what is right by everyone, and in reminding me of how not to handle an issue.

I spent this evening at Planet Fitness, then by watching “Into The Woods”.  I will admit it, I am a schmaltzy sort, when watching sad parts of a film, even when the sadness is punctuated by hokeyness.  I laughed when a little girl in the audience mockingly joined in, when the two princes (Chris Pine and Billy Magnussen) offered a full-on rendition of “Agony”, complete with ripping their shirts open.  Tears formed though, when the Baker’s Wife was reported dead and their baby cried.

The Baker and Cinderella reassure the orphaned Jack the Giant Killer and Red Riding Hood that they were not alone,  a theme song that reverberated throughout the musical, and serves as its saving grace.  I thought more about that, also.  No isolation need be forever; no loss need go unreplenished.  Any obstacle can be faced by people, of all ages and backgrounds, and both genders, forming a united front.  This is all too easy to forget, when our individual personas clash with others.

I am coming up, in another 1 1/2 months, on the fourth anniversary of my wife’s passing.  Losses differ, in type, in circumstance and in aftermath, and no one loss is greater than another, except for a parent losing a child.  The common thread in all, though, is superbly laid out by Stephen Sondheim:  “You are not alone”.  I’m not, and neither are you, no matter how it may seem in the dark night, the early morning, or any time in between.  To everyone reading this:  Speak, be heard, but also be willing to listen. You matter.