I could call my marriage a soul-destroying experience, but that’s not quite accurate. I still have my soul, my dreams, my goals and my fantasies. The worm of selfishness still lives in my gut.

And yet my marriage is a series of solitary experiences in a prison of solitude, where I do my activities, she does hers. Talking about my thoughts and feelings is useless.

So today, I will clean and organize, stopping only when my pain is too much, then resuming when it lessens. 

I am going to be the best “David” I can be.

OK, I did my walk today, six miles. I feel pretty good physically, a little tired. But every time I think about what happened in Wuhan, e.g. the release of this virus, my head wants to explode. Had this happened in America, the plaintiffs’ lawyers would be suing the owners of the laboratory. And I would be cheering them on. This virus release could still precipitate the greatest civil tort liability suit in history.

But this isn’t helping my attitude. What helped my attitude was a phone call from #2 son. We just talked. I feel better

While it may be 4:45 in the morning in the Eastern Time Zone of North America, it is some time in the afternoon in Russia According to the Russian Orthodox liturgical calendar, it is Good Friday, the day Jesus Christ was crucified.

I am sitting in my chair, wondering why I am watching and listening to a priest read the Passion narrative in Russian. Occasionally I will understand a word or two. I’ve been meaning to re-learn Russian. Guess I better get started.

Turning the YT channel I am now watching an industrial film from the 1950’s promoting transportation solutions to traffic congestion. The problem seems unchanged, but the cars looked a lot cooler then.

Maybe I should go back to bed.

First things first. Have not heard from Olivia. You, OK, Woman?

Getting into the walking groove again, I am. I was in the hole after the first week of April. I had only managed to walk three times. If I wanted to average 5 times per week, I needed to walk every day from 8-14 April. And I did. I actually had 4 X 6 mile walks and 3 X 4 mile walks, for a total of 36 miles. I felt proud.

I am kind of tired now. I imagined myself writing so much more. So I’m closing the entry now. Will check in later

✌ Peace.

0228 13 April. Today is Thomas Jefferson’s birthday. I grew up in a world that admired his genius. He was the first great American architect. Jefferson was a complex man as all heroes are. And paradox often accompanies complexity. Real world heroes live on a different level than comic book heroes or mythological figures.

But this post is about Easter. To me, among other things, Easter is about unending and invincible Divine Love. I think we can comprehend every other Divine quality from God’s Love for us humans.

I know that’s a lot to think about. So I think I will just share my observation of a family having an Easter egg hunt. There were two children, a little girl about 4, a little boy about 2. And the parents The little boy was not as taken with the game as the little girl. And the parents here were having the most fun, just watching the children and directing them in their quest. You can infer all you wish about the joy of simple things. Praising the simple risks descending to the realm of platitude, until one sees people fully engaged in as simple and naïve an activity as an Easter egg hunt. That little game reaffirms the simplicity of heart, of feeling, we so easily reject.

“Suffer the little children to come into me…” St Matthew 19:14.

With people driving fewer miles because of quarantine, and shelter in place mandates, there is less road kill.

That means the buzzards are in for some lean times too. So when you are out on the road, remember a little turn of the wheel at the right time, in the right direction, might mean some fresh carrion for some hungry buzzards.

It’s the least we can do.

If I can put my anger, opinions, and negativity aside for the next few weeks until the metaphorical “All Clear” sounds, I will feel that I have contributed my little bit towards a positive attitude needed to conquer this pandemic.

Then if I can strive for love in the face of this negativity, maybe it can infiltrate into a full time attitude of love, instead of mere posture.

It takes work. Nor can I expect that anyone else will ever join me in this journey.

Here it is, Good Friday. If you told me at Christmas churches would be closed as a precaution against a lethal virus once confined to the Chinese horseshoe bat, I would not have believed you. That my son and a dear friend would  contract the virus and recover, while thirtyeight people in a nursing home a half mile from my home would die,  I would again have been incredulous. 

Words and phrases we have become used to hearing, propaganda, spin control, scapegoating, fill our language. So much over which we have no control, but other things we can hold in our grasp, like my daily power walk. I walk six miles straight. The calorie burn is estimated at around 440 calories.I can control what I eat, much as I like to deny that. I will always be a slave to my appetites. I do this little walk, in hopes of letting go. It takes work to let go, to forgive, and to forget takes down right Herculean effort.

So much we want to be right about, So much that matters not a whit.

So today, absent hearing the Passion Story at my parish, will be an irregular Good Ftiday. Yet the suffering we usually hear, even feel, as the brutal story of The Crucifixion still fills the background, will linger in our consciousness till only Sunday morning. And then we shall feel the reset of  redemption and forgiveness.

Not the kind I would love to be experiencing, but the post-workout mellowness is nothing to be looked down upon. All the contributing steps were taken, hot shower taken, drank lots of cold water, took 440mg Naproxen. I have the heat on my back, ready to shift the heat to my arthritic hip.

I did another six mile walk. That makes four times at this distance since 30 March. The hip starts out aggravating my gait. I can’t get my stride out easily. I will work on that. But that feeling of the sweat pouring out of my body, the air going deep into my lungs is incomparable.

I have done distance running, swimming, walking since I was fifteen. That’s fifty four years. I can’t say it had been consistent. There have been blank pages in my workout diary, lots of them. Yet the workouts are the best anchors I have ever had. So I keep at it.

Kites are like dreams. They fly in the air, as unfettered thoughts do in our imagination. The person holding the earthbound end of the string is forever a child, seeking altitude for the flimsy construction that is the airborne end. The astronaut and the first grader share this common ground. The kite and the wind don’t care who holds the string.

I ordered a kite the other day on Amazon from a company in Bend, Oregon. The picture on Amazon said it is a Blue Diamond, like the almonds, I guess.

Now the question presents itself, “When shall I/we fly it?” Isolation is one thing; a lone field is needed. Perhaps the playground at Ruby F. Carver. Elementary School would suffice. It would need to be relatively free of other people. But social distancing should be easily accomplished. Have the dry, clear and windy days of Spring completed their visits? Three weeks of April remain. We should be fortunate to have the gift of a breeze.

Next a partner to engage in this frivolity and diversion would be nice. So I asked J.

” I can’t think about that right now. My mind doesn’t work that way.”

Does she relish smothering joy? Shattering dreams?

If not now, when?