Who we are internally . . .

100208 06:20
I am not what I do, and have never been that, but something more like what I am now; stripped of my professional identity and join a growing population in poverty regardless of age. Some days I awake from dreams that inform me of what I might write about. In writing up my dreams, and other issues of interest/concern, I find myself self-defined and discover a new joy for life, photography and writing .
I experience, with sadness, the idleness of those who were once-upon-a-time defined by a vocation, now retired. In a profound sense many are now retired prematurely since the economy, as it was formerly defined, is now undergoing adjustment to new realities.
To pretend otherwise is impossible except for those who caused the alteration of our daily reality. Towards them I could, but refuse, to be angry even though our bankruptcy may mean that we may need the herding goats and living in found material shelters similar to those in Haiti.
The absence of anger and fear is a better measure of my wealth than my bank account. Anger and fear can own us if we allow it to, and by those reactions are we manipulated and controlled personally and collectively.