And maybe in a spirit world after we die.

I feel guilty. To a degree. Because I’m not vocal enough. Oh, I’m not silent. But I’m frustrated. In that I am a solitary individual. An individual that feels more or less powerless to do much to change the drift of our society. Our nation. To do anything significant to bring down (change) the system of white supremacy.

I’ve drifted into a lethargy, of sorts. Out of disappointment with the system that doesn’t – and never has come close – to abiding by the credo that all men (as in humankind) are created equal. The power structure in America is, and always has been, built in a way that grants privileges to an elite. This equality thing is baloney, no more than a sham in actual practice. So many of us have been duped into thinking it’s real – that we actually as a nation practice that credo. When we don’t even come close. American society is, and always has been, a system based on white supremacy. And then by a relatively few privileged white, a ruling elite. Yes, most of us, especially the lower and middle classes, whether we are white or black, are being exploited. White folks like me. I’m exploited in that I’m denied basic rights, basic privileges, basic freedoms, basic human rights. Oh, I have more rights and more freedoms than my black counterparts, because I am white. But still, I’m denied many rights and freedoms because I am different. A romantic/idealist, a free-thinker and a political and social liberal, maybe even a communist sympathizer. I’m certainly a socialist at heart. I’m at odds with the ruling elite, with the power structure. I feel alienated. And at times I feel like shouting, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more.”

But what have I done about it, really? As I have grown older, I have tended to withdraw. From society. It’s my way of protest, I suppose. I withdraw into my cocoon. My self-made cocoon. Because I am alienated. I don’t like the rules. I don’t like to conform. And I feel overwhelmed. And sort of helpless. Unable to change the system in my lifetime. Therefore, if I retreat to my cocoon I can sort of establish my own rules, in my castle, in my domain. The more I isolate myself from other people, the more I feel free. I admit this may be no more than an illusion. In a sense, I have imprisoned myself by creating my own limited world. But I communicate. More or less inwardly. With the spirit within me. I have a voice. In that I write daily. A journal. To keep myself mentally and emotionally stable. Stimulated, so to speak. My life over the past 40-some years has been largely interaction with one other. In my cocoon. Interaction with Jeanne. My wife. My best friend. And maybe my only true friend. My anchor. And now she's gone. Dead. Since January. Fortunately, I still cling to Jeanne’s spirit. And that keeps me going. I’m still trying to escape from the rest of the world. Yes, I retreat to my cocoon. Daily. Jeanne has been my consoler. My lover. My protector. My salvation. My anchor. My confidant. My connection with another human being. Yes, it’s Jeanne that made my life worthwhile. Jeanne made me happy. Yes, I’ve survived all these years. Mainly with the help of Jeanne. And maybe two new-found friends, Rosie and Cherie. Most everybody else are mere acquaintances. People I like, for the most part, but people I don’t come to know in intimate ways because I really live in a cocoon. And I emerge only to conduct the necessities of life. The necessities of survival. The necessity of making a living. And now that I’m retired, it’s possible to reduce or cut off discourse. Possible to spend an increasing amount of time in the cocoon. Where I’m “free” because I’m relatively isolated. Where I have found solitude.

I interact with only a few. A handful of people. Individuals here and there. I can let them know that I’m on their side. That I empathize. That I sympathize. That I think the societal and political and economic system we live under is dreadful and a disgrace to human kind. And the sad thing is that in our limited lifetime we may be unable to change the system in significant ways. The change will be ever so gradual. Like human evolution. It’ll take generation after generation after generation. Small changes here and there. That some of us (folks like me) will dream about in our cocoons. And maybe in a spirit world after we die. –Jim Broede