Friday, July 10, 2026
One might think that life is pretty horrible if they really pay attention. From deep below the surface cries the spirit’s yearning. Do you hear what I hear?
In the last month, four different people in my life have corresponded. One said, in a text, he needed to speak to me but confessed that he’d been “inundated.” Inundated is to be overwhelmed with things or people to be dealt with.
In another friend’s correspondence they confessed their life had been “wild.” Another word they used was “whirlwind.” Wild means not domesticated or cultivated; inhospitable and uninhabited. Whirlwind means a rapidly rotating column of air. I didn’t admire their mire.
Another person wrote in an email that he extended his apology because he had been “swamped.” To be swamped is to be overwhelmed with water.
A past, intimate connection apologized for being so quiet. He was just “so busy.” Busy means having a great deal to do.
Inundated, wild, whirlwind, swamped, and busy.
The world is drowning. Is anyone available? Is there not a free person on the planet? Since when is inundation, whirlwind, drowning, and busyness a virtue, and freedom and availability a prison?
What a shame that being free is looked down upon. Life is “crazy.” I suppose that’s what we aspire to, insanity. To be inundated is your own doing. Don’t put yourself in a prison and expect me to admire you in your own mire-dom.
Do you hear what I hear? Do you see what I see? A prison of one’s own making, Truth drowning in its own doing and calling it “virtuous.” I call it crazy.
Never shall I admire a prison without a victim. I shall only vow to free people from their own personal hells.