They are my constants.

Oh, folks, I still have a purpose. An over-riding purpose. To find something to love. Life. Consciousness. In a world that sometimes seems hostile. Hostile, in the sense of other people. Society as a whole. Seems hostile to me. But there are exceptions. Exceptional individuals. Kindred souls and spirits. That’s how one achieves salvation. Finds happiness.

Essentially, I see a world in which we are at each others’ throats. Sort of an every man/woman for himself/herself. Survival of the fittest. A lack of love. Oh, there are exceptions. That’s the saving grace of it all. But the predominant face of the world is selfishness and distrust and, all too often, outright hate. Recently, I talked to someone who descriebd herself as a cynical idealist. Maybe that is the best one can be. Really, I am so very, very disappointed at times. At my low ebb. I temporarily lose faith in humanity. In the human condition. As a society, as a world as a whole, we’ve lost track of the pursuit of the common good. That should be our mission. Pursuit of the common good. Love. Camaraderie. Oh, I can find it – the camaraderie, the friendship – but only in isolated instances. Here and there. I stumble across a kindred soul. So, I have an opportunity to cultivate human contact. The opportunity to survive. And make a worthwhile life. By retreating to my cocoon. Maybe with one or two others.

I suppose that’s a rather pessimistic outlook. But to me, it’s everything. Everything meaningful. All I can salvage. And I’m trying to be grateful just for that. I guess that has to be enough. The ability to love one or two others. Real people. And sometimes I have to settle for god…and my spiritual Jeanne. They are my constants. --Jim Broede