Wasteland

I've had a string of bad Aprils for the past seven years, and I thought I was getting through this one fairly easy... but no. I'm a fan of T.S. Eliot (like having the soul of Sinatra, this may be a liability), so it almost seems inevitable that this April would be bad. In any case, here's the beginning of The Wasteland (1922):

APRIL is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

I don't know the nature of other people's problems; but I've given you a reference in English, and I haven't made your salvation dependent on knowing it. Still, it seems that it really might be time to go into the basement and deal with my "nasty crap," quite literally.

In other news, prayer may be bad for other people's health. That's a shame, although I do wonder about how they tracked outcomes: even the article linked (which is commentary on the study, not the study itself) suggested that God might have different ideas of what constitutes a "good outcome." In the healing circle I've attended, we've always asked for wholeness, knowing that "healing" doesn't always mean getting better.
I guess that isn't too different from where I started: the past few Aprils have had some fairly horrible surprises, and the answer usually wasn't for things to go back to the way they had been.
Tillich suggested that there were only two coherent approaches to the world: as a Stoic or as a Christian. The difference, if I recall correctly, lies in Hope: the Stoic sees the wisdom in keeping Hope hidden in the bottom of Pandora's box, whereas the Christian of course thinks Hope is a good thing.
So, let's see what this new month brings.