Trying right now not too feel demoralized about life's
disappointments. As my body ages, gets heavier, and slowly breaks down
in ways not easily fixed, I find that I am having to confront the end of
my life with increasing seriousness. Of course, I do not expect it to
end anytime in the next thirty years. Still, life's realities make one
pensive.
The thing about aging that I haven't fully
grappled with is how some problems are permanent with no easy solutions.
For example, my biological father seems intent on getting caught in
phone and mail scams which no amount of logic, no amount of talking, can
convince him to abandon them. His dreams of wealth, which is where he
has placed a good deal of self-esteem, has him trapped. Speaking with
him, trying to avoid making promises to help him, which in reality are
promises to help him become fully entangled in problems, is depressing.
He can't understand how he is being taking advantage of rationally, and
for some reason, views anyone with money as possessing a magical secret
that he is being kept from, the secret of financial wealth. He is a
gambler who tells me of his frequent successes at the dice tables. There
is not a good way to dissuade him from the danger he leaps at
surrounding himself with. How do you prevent a moth from burning up in a
campfire. The light, too alluring to be ignored, seduces it to painful
destruction.