Sylvia's Journal

The low grade depression in my mind continued through yesterday’s workday and only lifted when I got home and found Sita back from her month-long trip overseas, still bubbling over with energy to connect people to one another. Her focus is very good medicine for people who feel out of sorts because it draws attention to the millions of small (and some not so small) uplifting and exciting acts of social entrepreneurship and innovation that proceed without the benefit (or should I say ‘drag’) of ‘organization.’ And I mean here organization in the bureaucratic sense: the sometimes suffocating web of procedures and rules that appear to serve primarily the interests of accountants who want to pass audits with flying colors.

We had a wonderful old-time noisy dinner with both girls and their mates around one of Axel’s preferred weightwatchers’ meals: surprise meatloaf without all the fat gunk (gross looking stuff that leaked into the bottom of the broiler pan) gone and an angel food/strawberry concoction that lost its weightwatcher stamp of approval after I poured whipped cream over it.

Dinner conversation consisted primarily of gossip about high school teachers and students, triggered by an alumni newsletter. Such conversations are never much fun for Steve, who got up and did the dishes. And then we discussed Tessa’s new elected official position (picking up stray cattle) and how we could make her do some real work.

We also reviewed what really happened at the town meeting last night. As it turned out I had romanticized it a bit in my depressed state. There was none of the after-meeting drinking and mulling over what (really) happened – it was past midnight and nothing is open that late. According to Axel everyone slinked out, tired and many disappointed. Robert’s Rules of Order continue to Reign – by their very rigidity and obscure language keeping many from asking the questions they would have asked under a more user-friendly set of rules. I remember once at a conference seeing a session advertised called ‘Roberta’s Rules of order,’ and I am sorry I did not attend it. There must be a better way.

I went to bed at 8 PM – not feeling well at all, as if the mental depression had sunk down into my body with everything aching, my heart racing and alternating hot and cold flashes as is if there was no tomorrow. Axel gave me a good massage and that was enough to send me off into a bottomless and dreamless sleep.