There is always too much, those ten thousand things to which the Buddhists refer. Sometimes I think they will drown me. Most can wait, few are urgent so I can only surmise that it is my obsessive need to impose order, to put things away, neatly in order. And all the time I know that there is real chaos out there, real calamity, real catastrophe, real misery. The word ‘depravity’ was there on the front page of the online paper he was reading at breakfast. I don’t want to know more, that word says enough. Acts of depravity perpetrated in the name of war, of egotism, of braggadocio. And then there are those captured humanitarian workers accused of spying. I know as much as I can bear to know. Let there be an end to it. For them. Soon. Please.
