Kamisaka Sekka
Noh Scene: Hagoromo
(1920s-30s)

"…might some surprising Prosperity settle in for the duration of even this?"

That Sword of Damnocles works in seemingly inexorable ways. Each Prosperity, as I’ve already proposed, stretches only into finite if indefinite space. Each inevitably ends. This nature encourages the convection that inspires fresh Prosperities to emerge from within an often deep sense of catastrophe or loss. The most important things happen at the least convenient times. This homily has been an article of faith underlying all of my many Prosperities over at least the last three decades, and, upon more careful reflection, most probably for much longer. I believe that at any moment, an event could occur that could utterly upend every expected trajectory, opening previously unimaginable possibilities. Yesterday, The Muse quite literally stumbled into one.

She was exiting a bus after taking a tour of another Port’s properties as a part of a scheduled Port Commissioner gathering. The driver had pulled up to an uneven gutter/curb, leaving a higher-than-expected gap between the last step and the irregular ground. She somehow managed to step on the margin between the walk and curb, and went down. Hard. She was unable to stand after her fall, and was transported to the local ER, where x-rays disclosed that she’d broken both ankles. One was apparently broken worse than the other, but she broke both. She spent the night in the hospital, unable to transfer from chair to bed or toilet unaided.

This event qualifies as a typical BreakPoint. It will echo through the balance of this summer, upending many expectations. The Villa is hardly ADA compliant, with stairways blocking every entrance, and bedrooms and full baths at the top of a grand staircase practicably unnavigable by a wheelchair. And a wheelchair will be The Muse’s constant companion at least until those ankles stabilize and start healing; six weeks or so. Full recovery, given age and probable bone density, might take six months. My meager imagination has so far proven inadequate to determine the logistics of the situation, other than to conclude that we’re on the cusp of experiencing something genuinely unprecedented. I suppose that I will reassume my role as Emotional Support Animal, as I did four years ago when Amy was diagnosed with that throat cancer. I suspect that we’ll need more assistance than I can provide, which should adequately pave the way for more than one surprising Prosperity to appear.

When one door slams shut, another creaks open, though the startle response to the slamming door often proves enough of a distraction that the slowly opening creaky door doesn’t immediately draw much attention. Believe me, it’s there, even though it’s initially unnoticed. (Notice how I seem to be sermonizing to myself here?) Replacement Prosperities do not simply fly off some idle inventory shelf. They emerge. This might prove to be a painfully pedantic process, trying the patient’s patience as well as her Emotional Support Animal’s. It’s first an article of faith that Prosperity has probably not abandoned anybody. It’s changing the guard. From the familiar to the novel. From the expected to the recently unimaginable. This seems to be how the story maintains its reader’s attention and interest.

Realities seem to need to occasionally reconfigure themselves. These shifts might as well intend to shock one into some fresh awareness. Unplanned-for expenses appear threatening on the horizon. Comfortable patterns recede. Inconvenience resurges. Reality reconfigures. Chaos seems to reign at first. Unresolvable challenges appear. This will not be a volunteer operation, but a wholesale conscription. I will need to set my expectations accordingly. Maybe this will be that long-anticipated maturity test, the one that might demonstrate whether I’ve finally grown up … or not. Did I inherit the stuff my forebears so ably demonstrated, or am I still an emotional adolescent? Will my empathy fail me under this duress, or might some surprising Prosperity settle in for the duration of even this?

©2026 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Prosperity, #PureSchmaltz