A note from Hughie's daughter Claire informed me today:
Basically both the arteries in his neck are blocked up by over 70%. This is probably what caused the clot so obviously they want to do something to make sure it doesn't happen again. They have agreed to operate but they said he's too poorly at the minute. He's ok but seems very fed up.
Fed up and frustrating -- that describes a lot of things that happen in life. There is nothing that can be done. No words can salve. No hymns can assuage. Where there is no "better," there simply is no better. And yet, of course, we may wish things were better -- for ourselves, for those we love, and, when we're feeling expansive, for positively everyone.
And still there is nothing that can be done. It's hard. It's true. And it's an opportunity. Living a life dedicated to something else, some better way, some Elysian Fields that have been or will be.
Still, there is nothing to be done.
And this goes not just for the 'bad' stuff, the old age, illness and death. It is also true for the 'good' stuff -- the stuff we might love or delight in.
I just think we all short-change ourselves and our lives when we decline the invitation to enter and survey the fact that there is nothing to be done. The twitterings of anguish and delight are human enough ... and yet where there is nothing to be done, is twittering a solution?