Photo Prayer 2020-33 -- Nebulloid Bongo Land
Sometimes nothing makes sense. Twice, years ago, cars ran red lights and sent me to the hospital with concussions. The second time I did not black out. I was upright, walking around, but mentally I was in Nebulloid Bongo Land, a nightmare world where thought turns itself inside out, a place without rhyme and reason. My wife asked, “How are you doing?” In a brief moment of clarity, I remember answering, “I am in no condition to tell,” a brilliant answer from one so discombobulated. Now, today, it may feel like something gigantic has run a cosmic red light and smashed our world, tumbling it over and over. Bewildered, baffled, flummoxed, dumbfounded, and stupefied — the English language is full of words describing this feeling, we have it so often. But such disturbances are temporary. We have our wits. Clarity returns. Those sowing confusion and doubt are working overtime but we can learn to ignore them. Look! The compass is no longer spinning! God is still at our side. When we are asked — “How are you doing?” — what shall we answer?
Photograph of a mother, her two children, and a big red truck in an intersection.
Photo and text copyright 2020 by Danny N. Schweers.
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Comments
John wrote:
Thanks Danny. Your story and your photo make my head hurt! But so does, as you point out, the condition of the world today. Not all accidents are survivable like your two. We can only pray for mercy.
Elaine wrote:
Love this Danny. Can't wait for the day we can say and sing "I can see clearly now…"
Hugh wrote:
Great image!
Tom wrote:
Another has answered: "Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!" Sounds good to me : )
Craig wrote:
Nice shot Danny. I need to remember to work the shutter more, this is a good reminder. You almost always get something interesting… not necessarily good, but interesting…. Wasn't Nebulloid Bongo a band back in the 60's? Or maybe it was Nebulloid Bong. If not, it should have been…. I agree that now seems like we're in Bongo Land. And to me it's terrifying, and robs me of sleep. So many things bearing down on us all at once, so much hatred and barely submerged violence roaming the earth, waiting to erupt at the flick of a switch. Such disturbances can be temporary... if you consider, say, 10 years temporary or 20, or.... And I guess in the cosmic sense, it is. But the pain and suffering will intensify, and will be real. For how long, who knows, as pain and suffering will always be with us. The political situation, along with the virus, is obviously foremost on people's minds. I see no way this can keep from exploding. And then we'll see if all the king's horses and all the king's men can put Humpty back together again. Things rearrange, transform, they slouch towards Bethlehem. But it's always a bitch when they do. This is not the way I wanted to spend my "golden years”. Maybe the Apocalypse is on the way, I don't know and neither does anyone else. But, in the words of the sheriff in No Country For Old Men, it will till it gets here...
Mary wrote:
A perfect description of today during the Democratic Party Convention in August of an election year! Thank you. Nebulloud bongo land. Hugs. M
James (a brain researcher) wrote:
By coincidence I wrote the below yesterday – about chaos and disorder disorienting me just now. The top part came in mail, then I wrote a response to it.
Psychiatric consequences of COVID-19
The pandemic has triggered societal death anxiety which is expressed in various ways. Some handle death anxiety with denial and contrary behavior such as refusing to wear masks or follow CDC guidelines. Others develop anxiety, depression and personality dysfunction such as obsessive compulsive ritualistic behavior. Many have a gracious acceptance of human mortality (existential maturity) and the unpredictable nature of life and develop optimal coping mechanisms.
The above came by in my neuro mail. On reflection, yes the drumbeat of COVID coverage does push me towards dread and fear and anxiety – irrationally from a more objective consideration. Also the constant reference to age as a major “risk factor” for a severe experience has brought an unwelcome awareness of age itself, previously less prominent. I think my immune system is just fine, and my Doctor says I am just fat, not obese, but who knows, scary! I’d prefer to get to the gracious acceptance referenced in the last sentence above, but to get there I believe I will have to completely disconnect from the news media – probably a good thing more generally.
Wish me luck!