I started this blog category near the beginning of the Covid Lockdown. I used this space to explore the gut-level intuition that the popular narrative was wrong and dangerous. I felt powerless and confused. Little information was available and huge things were happening. I was reading and searching and fighting for a truth that wasn’t clear.
I found clarity through writing, praying, and living by the principles that had ushered me through dark times. It was like becoming a widower again: easier in that I had done that before, harder in that the whole world was experiencing the trauma collectively. There was no one with an outside perspective.
I don’t know how I moved through the malaise exactly, there are many movements to the process and they’re complicated by past traumas and assumptions. But I did move through it into a place of meaning and happiness. As tribes collapsed, I found the individuals who shared my journey and new bonds formed. I saw a rebuilding of community out of the wreckage of government restrictions on assembly. I found my place and purpose.
Part II: Weariness, accumulation of pain, old trauma back for healing, another business shutting down, self doubt, looming threat of increased restrictions, and a salad bowl of shit storms are riding me again.
It’s easier this time. Second rodeo and all that rot. I know there’s a stronger Jason waiting for me at the end of the day. Heck, I know there’s a stronger Jason at the end of this post (’cause the end of the day might not come).
So, back to it. I’ve got a fantastic life that’s only going to get better. I’m grateful to God for the strange miracle gift of language and for this crazy brain of mine that will not accept defeat.