I don’t know if it’s good or bad to be sad. Jeff Foster says it’s neither. You shouldn’t judge. Maybe you can incorporate the sadness, not eradicate it, not fight it. Are happier people the ones who do that? I never considered that. I always thought the happy people were less wired toward feeling sad. Maybe that’s wrong.

Is writing like this incorporating sadness? Is reading the Bible incorporating sadness? Are these things that touch me in some deep way tapping into a fuller spectrum of emotions than the everyday activities that I laden my life with? Why didn’t my shrinks ever posit that? Is it because they figured that being a cellist was already supposed to fulfill any desires and complete any gaps in my soul? Or is it that the shrinks I found didn’t believe in butting into my natural existence too much? They just wanted to allow me to uncover my own truths. So here I am, years later, making some growth spurts finally. Better late than never.

The problem with learning is that it is slow. But I feel a tug after death after death of famous people I admired and affected me. Death is a teacher, as well. Carrie Fisher’s death has certainly opened my eyes, having read about her life. I never knew. In reality, I don’t want to put myself in an early grave. I’d like to do whatever is within my power to prolong my existence here. The thing that is somewhat news to me is that I can enjoy being alive, possibly even moreso, without engaging in life-shortening activities. If I know that my only choice isn’t self-medicating my pain and sadness, then I think there is hope.