There! That’s settled!

The effluxion of time is very often the palliative to anxiety. But to a point. The primary cure is not the passage of time, rather it is the knowledge that comes with it. No matter how one prefers to characterise distress, the hurdle is overcome only by win or defeat. Clarity. Never ignorance or neglect. Wisdom. Real problems don’t disappear.

Today was a day of disappearing problems. The first of the two to evaporate, and by far the more important of them, was the accomplishment of a putative specialist medical meeting with a physiotherapist. The information which arose from the conflab was obvious but nonetheless welcome; and no less so because it wasn’t exactly what I either wanted or anticipated hearing.  I thought I might be referred to a surgeon. Which I was.  But then I was told it would be 8 – 10  months before the official diagnosis by the surgeon; and, if approved, another 2 – 4 months thereafter before the surgery. Though I was also told I would be able to walk out of the hospital the day after the knee surgery. More compelling was the percolating admission that I need to lose weight. All my ailments were summarised as moderate afflictions. And some of them were considered a poor candidate for surgery. Increasingly I am adopting the posture I attribute to my late father; namely, a stubborn conviction that we alone have control of our destiny. And if one suggests pusillanimity it also avoids the alternate grip of surgery.

The second clarification was of a personal nature. Though not health related. The nature of this particular event today was that it was an update covering an ambition extending back half a year. It captured one of those occasions on which our hibernation hurts. There are some things which cannot be done at a distance. To my discredit I haven’t the frame to withstand prolonged inquiry.

Yet in the end, things are settled. It is this combination of time and information which releases obstruction. The thrill of resolve is undeniably uplifting. Putting things at rest – or even at bay – quells the turmoil.

In the meantime the world considers the many issues of profound puzzlement raised by the American Investigation of Insurrection. The highly marketable theme touted by the predominantly Democratic Party members of the investigating committee has yet to be balanced by any serious insight into what is behind the competing Trumpian translation. It is inappropriately dismissive of Trump’s political allure to seek to contaminate it with mere deceit. The jaundiced label is regularly attached to politicians of any stripe. As Ivanka is recorded having alleged, the former president is celebrated as champion of the disadvantaged. Apparently those people (predominantly white racists) are angry about the incremental growth of inclusion and other so-called expressions of the Far Left. The terrible truth is that we all wrangle ourselves into our preferred opinions. Incrimination isn’t the poison it may seem to be. The Americans – based upon Trump’s popularity – remain at loggerheads with one another. I can’t see any value in diminishing the legitimacy of either side of the opponents. This is not to suggest the former president should be excused; but the feelings of the Trump supporters (no matter that they were misled) have a basis in a condition deserving of recognition. We cannot defeat an unseen enemy. By not watching FOX NEWS we don’t make it go  away. But publicising the opinions of our combatant at least redirects the objective from destruction to communication. The overbearing absorption in reciprocal hatred and accusations has obviously not worked.

Once again nothing is settled automatically by the effuxion of time. The imperative of knowledge persists.