C.B. Potts's Blog, page 54

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

And this is the last one for today: thank you, guys: I knocked off 8 articles and a phone meeting in the past 6 hours, which is the kind of progress I was hoping for today.

So now, today's last question:

Real evil is really, really rare. Astonishingly rare. I bet if you turned all of the prisons up here and tipped them on end, there wouldn't be more than a dozen purely evil people tipped out.

What do you get instead? A lot of people with piss poor imaginations and feeble moral codes who see noth...

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

I knew I could count on you to pull no punches and ask a tough, tough question. Here we go, then, and let us go knowing these words are said with love.

None of us have relationships with perfect people, and none of us are perfect. The first thing we must all do is be willing to acknowledge and examine our imperfections, and be very aware of how our imperfections affect others. But we must NOT forever remain in the place of examination; we must take corrective action, and having once done th...

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

You're not terrible, you're bored and you feel stuck. I used to do the same thing myself, and then I discovered, much to my dismay, that the thing I want most in this world is a boring life where nothing much ever happens. Those daydreams of catastrophe (which often have a strong element of "And this is how I'd save the day!")really suck when they come true.

Terrible, morbid, catastrophic daydreams hold just as much inspiration and power as those that are full of sparkly unicorns and happy fa...

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

Boy, you've asked one of the questions of the ages. I wish I knew the answer myself. I often say that there are tasks that can only be performed by people who have tits and a driver's license, but that is not actually true. I have seen people who have neither tits nor a driver's license wash dishes, vacuum floors, and do all matter of helpful cleaning type things.

But that is not the problem. The problem is that in any social group, there is a default setting. And in that default setting, ...

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

You can not silence voices, nor make them still within your head. That's not how they work. But it seems to be that voices are driven by need: the trick is to discern what need the voice is trying to make you aware of. Find that, fulfill that need, and the voices aren't as insistent anymore.

This can be unpleasant. I've often a need to be afraid, apparently, or to feel less than. Time limits are your friend: wallow in self-loathing for no more than 5 minutes a time. Hate yourself with all yo...

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

Is this all there is for my life?

Oh, honey. Of course it is. The measure of your days has already been counted; the minutes enumerated. the hours stretched from dawn to dusk and through the long, cool night hours. Not a single one of us gets more; if there are other dimensions of existence or ways to step off this mortal coil into something other, no one's found safe passage yet.

But this is not something to despair about. You're tired and you've worked hard, and everything you're hoping fo...

Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

Do you ever wonder where she ends and you begin, there, in the cold, gray kingdom of his memory? Are you separate or distinct? Do your edges blur into each other, masking the points that make you special and unique and her, ironically enough, the same?

Do you see the trajectory of everything already carved through the sky? This is not a new trail you're walking, even though it's the first time your sneakers have been here. The tune he whistles - it's a familiar one, although not to you.

It's go...

Monday Morning

And here we are, we are, we are. There are some days when simply existing is an accomplishment. This isn't, this can't be, one of those days. Things must be done, and it seems that I must be the one to do them.

A chance, perhaps, to practice gratitude for life's sureties.

It will storm today. It has already, once, great with lightning and the roaring of the heavens. The wind must have been great: there are things in my yard in positions they did not occupy yesterday. The clouds are moving with...

Letters for the Daughters: Love and Other Imperatives

There will be times when you question the purpose of existence, when you'll want to know if life has a meaning. I think it does, and I think it's this: we're here to be here, and to know love.

The first part I'll go on about another time. As for the second part, before you dismiss it as an easy, feel good bit of philosophy, let me remind you that the tiger loves its dinner.

Love, you see, is far more than the lace-edged romantic craptrap huckstered around the second week in February. Love is ...

Letters for the Daughters: On Pets

They seem like a good idea at the time.

They're not.

No matter how much your children beg or plead or carry on, never ever bring an animal into your household that you do not adore with all of your heart and soul. For verily, you will be stuck with said animal. And children's enthusiasm fades, like carpet in the sunlight...yet the animals remain, no matter how many times they 'accidentally' get loose.