Day of the Dead | Say no

I didn’t play a game of never-have-I-ever today, as I did last year. Instead, there was a hectic and suffocating day, followed by coffee. Coffee was about the only pleasant thing about today.

Certain old patterns of behavior surface when living in a state of limbo that isn’t the happiest one. In my case, this tends to be coffee. I have had a love/hate relationship with coffee. Resurfacing of that old pattern is mildly worrying.  I have more critical things to wrap up at the end of the year, so I’ll let that worry plague me another day.

The question of a job versus a vocation haunts me still. Both choices have their set of compromises, and I am fond of my free lunch theorem. I want it all and I want it now; only, I had wanted it all and had wanted it long ago.

I wonder if my family went to a day of the dead ceremony. I will do my own version of commemoration, for remembering dead, loved ones. I will be a bit in the blues, I suspect, but there is no salve for that. I hope that I treated them well when they were around, and I am glad that I was beloved to them.


It is difficult to say no. I have wondered that often before here. Is it better to say no in the beginning, and sound rude or disinterested, or to to feign interest and put up with something unsuitable for a period of uncertain duration?

This is November. I like to take account of life in this month, annually. The concept of  a new year is abstract, except in a calendrical  sense. A birthday is easier to connect to and to use as a marker. It has been a rough year. It has been a rough few years. I have felt dragged down to the dregs of myself.  As much as there were external factors involved, it is still true that not saying no earlier, that not giving up and walking away earlier, that not accepting failure and endings earlier, had prolonged situations which had circled around like big, gloomy clouds overhead. Putting up a facade of fine only goes so far, after all, and despite the best of intentions cracks eventually.

I am still not where I was, before. I am trying hard to get back to myself, and to be less apologetic about that. I am trying to be more mindful of all this, to put a true no above a polite yes, to put my needs above wishes to perform to expectations.

It is a day for the dead. It is a day for what died well, having served well. It is a day for all our souls.

Byron made me cry all those years ago when he declared that bright be the light of thy soul.