Closure

Actually, I don't believe in closure--which I loosely define as being emotionally ready to move on after something monumental happens.

I guess I believe (for the purposes of this blog post) that closure, like forgiveness, is an action. Closure is like this: you decide to move on, you find other things to do that you suspect might be good for you, you do them, and eventually you find that the hurt isn't as bad, the emptiness is filling, or the moment of joy has brightened the entire fabric of your life.

After my mother's death, my father spent a year "staying busy," and then he found that he WAS busy, surrounded by friends and a supportive community. He didn't miss my mother less; he just lived with it more easily. In this, as in so many other things, he set an excellent example. (I have to say this aloud because he also made me nuts, and I said that aloud, so....)

How closure fits into one's grief process is unique. In my case, it's not even in there. Nothing is really "over." Whatever experience it was is part of you irrevocably. So closure is really the wrong name for it. It's more like a change in direction, that involves the pit of my stomach somehow.

Whatever it is, whatever it's called, it doesn't descend upon you--you have to do it. That's my main point.

Over the weekend, a dear friend recommended that I read the Newsweek special issue about the American election. I read it Saturday night--glued to the computer screen. It is fascinating. An overview and seven chapters from behind the scenes of each candidate's campaign (and plenty from Hillary, too)--embargoed until after the election. Surprising and not. Instructive. Fascinating. Did I mention fascinating? And satisfying, like a piece of dark chocolate after a meal. I now have enough information about the past to anticipate the future in a more balanced way.

I have also graciously shared my thoughts on the impending Utopia with the President-Elect's transition team here. (There's a link at the bottom where you share your vision. I don't like to just share stories--I like to tell people what to do.) So they know what I think. The best part is, while they don't care about my opinion because they don't know me, they do care about my opinion in theory and as part of an aggregate.

Therefore, if enough people email to say "Invest in basic scientific research to prime the innovation pump, and target technology transfer spending and consumer economic incentives to green technologies," we will be heard. Or "Include ASL interpreters at every briefing, and you will create incredible goodwill and harness an entire generation's energy for change," or "Continue your great job of making intelligence a valued commodity again." For example.

My life path didn't include a stopover in Washington (or Ottawa, for that matter). That's perfectly fine with me, because there's plenty in my life to get done, and some of those things have to get done pretty soon. (Deadlines.) The discipline of paying attention to "now" will also help me switch focus from the election hubbub. Discipline. Doesn't forward progress always come back to that?

Anyway, now I really do think I'm done, in the sense of "What's next?" At least for today. I highly recommend it.