This is an excerpt of a blog post I am working on that recalls the nine years I’ve put it in a family not-for-profit business. A blogger called Fandango suggested readers write posts centered on the word assist. As it so happened I have a post I’m editing that lends itself to that word, a form of the word I’ve included in the first paragraph, that I thought I would contribute to Fandango’s effort the first part of what will be three parts.
It was October 2012 that I took up working a graveyard, in the town where I reside, where I came from. My dad, Peter, got a burial ground to make do, with my assistance. His business is a charitable one, not unusual for a retired person. For a good number of years, he had been the manager of the municipal cemetery locally.
I think he probably handled the job at the bigger cemetery with an air of stoicism, which is normal for a person professionally handling grieving. It is a good position to take any time death enters the conversation.
Each plant, creature and individual inevitably passes, as dismal as that is. Stoicism is the mental process of remaining detached. I try not to engage too much mentally with the idea of stoicism, as I experience emotion, of course, and I am not sure it is healthy to detach too much from the experience of feeling real emotion.
Sometimes relationship advice for men I hear lends itself to the idea that stoicism is the best strategy for talking to women. A lady’s reaction, the unemotional man prompts you, isn’t to acknowledge a lady’s reaction to you. It sounds unwholesome, yet meeting ladies who begin to like you are a numbers game, except if you are youthful, attractive, fit and rich. That might be too obtuse to even think about fully articulating, yet I see where exhortation like that is coming from.