FIRST APRIL OF MY NEW LIFE
I’m rereading a favorite textbook from my social work and therapy studies. Existential Psychotherapy by Irvin D. Yalom. If that doesn’t sound like one of my best loved nordic noir novels, it’s not; but, like them, death is a major consideration. In fact, Part I deals primarily with the subject. Yalom claims the four ultimate concerns of our existence are death, freedom, isolation, and meaninglessness. And as I delve into this most insightful and thoughtful of texts, I find myself as fascinated as I was upon first reading it.
The point of all this being—that I intend to spend these last few years working within Yalom’s categories to make sure my existence considers each, but especially insisting to myself, that I find meaning and purpose. Every. Single. Day.
My grandson, Steven, came to visit this fine April…and a perfect visit it was. He works in IT, as a coder and more, and just as he arrived, his current project had a timing shift, so what was supposed to be mostly free time turned into an intense 16-18 hour a day sprint in front of his computer screens. It worked out in a lovely fashion for me because it meant he couldn’t hang out with his cousins that much, and his wife wasn’t joining us until the weekend. Which meant he had me anxiously awaiting his every break, during which we had passionate globally-encompassing discussions. Steven has always liked to talk about the Big Stuff, ever since he was a kid, so we pretty much covered the meaning of life, transitions, purpose, troubled friends, ageing as seen through the eyes of a person in his thirties, and another in her eighties, as well as AI, virtual reality, and the apocalypse. Since Steven had no time for others, and is on a pretty intense diet of mostly carrots, sweet potatoes (my regular diet), and a steady supply of greens, we didn’t have to break to eat fancy meals or pay attention to humans, dogs, or media. Just us and our brilliant bursts of discussion. And best of all, Steven’s considering transitioning to social work, the clinical therapy branch, probably. I say best of all, because his main interest as a college student was sociology, so not sure IT was ever his first calling…but given the lack of attention to studies that aren’t devoted to the worst of our capitalistic impulses, I’m sure other fields weren’t really pushed at his school. Besides I’m a lapsed social worker.
Steven was here for my birthday, which was made most interesting by son Steven’s search for and location of an angel food cake with which to properly celebrate. Angel food cakes seem to have fallen into disrepute, and as I grew up with one every single birthday until I left home, that seems almost sacrilegious to me. Anyway he found one, inferior in texture, but perfect for making it a real celebration for me. He heaped on frosting and found 70+ regular candles and added enough of the sparkly ones to get to 85. It was quite special actually, didn’t burn the house down, and took me back to mom’s ever-faithful birthday offerings.
Working my way thru all your posts.. looking forward to it. Angel food cake? My Mother made them.. usually in the summer and the treat was fresh strawberries poured on it. Cake was nice, Delaware strawberries were the best part..birthday memories are nice. Wonder how I will feel about that when I turn 100?