Keith Stump above. Yer quoted him woman!
Invocation: sorry for the ambiguity. No postmodernists don’t do that one, my ‘those’ are those scientists who won’t see nature’s meaningless order, by analogy.
That is at least as beautiful as Uber alle Gipfeln ist ruh.
As for eudaimonism, one of my blessings is that I’m a bloke. I have a shrivelled corpus collosum and therefore cannot think and feel with my whole brain. What you need is to think and say the unthinkable, the unsayable. The sardonic. The ‘selfish’, brutal alternatives to being compassionate. Jesus was always off by Himself… You need you time. Distraction. Superficiality.
I came out of church in the dark last night and a homeless guy obsequiously approached me to buy food and water for him. I filled his bottle back in the office, he didn’t try and follow me in, of which my back was tinglingly aware, gave him a packet of digestive biscuits (D*mn, I’ll have to stop off to get more now!) and the change in my pocket. I’d already had a pleasant interaction with Martin, Holly and Alesia and her baby in the church grounds, where doubtless at least two of them would have an intensely more pleasant interaction later as I have to clean up the evidence of every human expression, as it were. With my grabber. Things that can go in my sack do. The rest I bury in leaves, tread into compost to be scraped up from the path later. At least they don’t do heroin. I encourage them, bless them, express regret for their troubles, give them free reign in our bastion of privilege to use the secluded memorial garden and always make my presence in the grounds noisily felt. At least the women and child are in a women’s shelter across the street. After I gave Billy what I could (which is a lie, as I had my credit card and could have walked 300m to a shop with him. In the dark. In a big, empty, leafy street), he asked for more. He had an eye tic which I correlated with… covetousness and repressed rage. He downloaded his ‘immediate’ story. I took his dead phone number, so I could text feed time locations, and was acutely aware again of the risk to my privileged property and person. When he gave his name I remembered him, from two sightings over the past three years. First living deep in the woods by the river miles away and second by a park a couple of streets the other direction from my home than where I was with him last night. He gets around. His story remains the same, I’m sure there’s truth in it, but it’s not the truth. I discussed him last year with my superb neighbour, Gaz, the Gazarene as I call him, the fourth emergency service (the fire truck pulsing blue outside his house late last night was for his leaking oxygen bottle…), the Baptist minister we volunteer for says he’s the most Christlike person she knows. He’s big, tough, gay and an atheist. He knew Billy. So Billy and the final safety net are well aware of each other. The city has an excellent homeless centre. Rooms, food, showers, washing machines. I’d mentioned it to him back in the woods. We parted and I took a block detour.
You are doing the best you possibly can too.