Missing to-you list

No enemies, no lovers, no rivals, no project partners. Only friends, family, colleagues. Well, this limits the 'you' possibilities as I explore the dynamics of encounter in this blog.

If, let's say, I were a John Locke on the run in Amsterdam, aware that my death or my silence would please James II no end;
or if, I had, with countless better men, fallen in love with the inimitable Alma Schindler,
or if I were a founder of Apple toe to toe with a founder of Microsoft;
or if I were an American president trying to make common cause with a Middle Eastern regional power,

then when I made a 2nd person address, I might find my 2nd person encounters fraught with every kind of burden, even the best episodes equivocal, and the worst ones, agonizing. Compared to someone waiting for the footstep of the assassin, or the billet-doux with the time of the tryst, or the surprise behind-the-back move that slams the door of opportunity in the face, or the eye-to-eye assurances that vaporize faster than fluid from a leaking head gasket, my encounters with Others are, well, tame, innocuous. Everybody loves me, nobody hates me; guess I won't eat worms.

So, does anything I've said so far have validity? That is, if the fugitive, the lovelorn, the bested, the infuriately exasperated don't find inspiration or consolation in the God-in-love framework and the practices of hospitality, friendship and exploration, what good is it?  Why not just deep breathing? Why not just c'est la vie, and move on?

I don't wish for the fear, the anguish, the humiliation, or the frustration, but why not for the grand fight (as for better ideas), or the glorious head-over-heels infatuation, or the great game or the world-shaping challenge--these are the great works, the adventures, the large endeavors that push us to the limits of who we are as individuals and as representative human beings, and offer scope for grand deeds of friendship, hospitality, exploration.

I read an article today on the subject of the 'good death,' and came across the recommendation of meditation, especially Buddhist meditation, as the unfailing inner resource that, cultivated to the point of habit, will stand us in good stead when our final days are, as they might well be, painful, humiliating, lonely.

I can't match the author's breadth of deathbed experience, but I do wonder if reflection on what we've dared or done in our lives that express or extend friendship, hospitality and exploration (that triad again) might not be consolation; indeed, whether understanding these to be ever alive in the heart of the love between God-in-love and the Beloved and the world to come might not be comfort.

The cynical statement is that no good deed goes unpunished; but may it not also be that no good deed ever perishes? Perhaps it's a mistaken view, but at least it gives me warrant for risking right up to the end.

Maybe I'll never encounter any of these Grand Guignol situations, but who knows? This is a wild and wonderful world.