The burdens we carry and the obstacles we face are often the only ones we can really feel.   The struggles of others have an air of unreality, do not seem as substantial as the things that hang over our tired backs, have us in their teeth.   This is obvious, self-evident, as my man The Author of Liberty used to say.  Who can tell what burdens and obstacles that great man faced, with his inherited wealth and hundreds of human chattel depending on him as he birthed the glorious ideas of Democracy and Freedom?

Bitterness is not becoming, and so let’s let it fall by the wayside, whatever and wherever that may be.  My point here is that any of us can give a laundry list of the reasons we are struggling to carry the heavy bag that is ours to carry.   If we can stop yawning long enough as we listen to somebody else’s list we may realize that we are not the only one feeling overwhelmed at certain times.  

To me the worst of it is the feeling that this uphill path, with the heavy load on the shoulders, is endless, while our strength and life are limited.  That combined with everyone else chatting about everything else, as we soldier on alone, pretending all’s well, you know what I’m saying?  

The true fact is that we are capable of way more than we allow ourselves to try.  In a sense the human mind, properly engaged, is unlimited.   It is the hundred limitations we impose that is a big part of the tragedy, the crap we accept instead of vital, technicolor life.   That and the fact that, except on rare occasions, it’s really hard to give more than a passing fiddler’s fart about the catalogue of other people’s persistent, amorphous struggles.