Utagawa Hiroshige 歌川 広重
Oystercatchers
(c. 1833/34)

"Hold your Prosperity lightly lest it break you when it slips out of your hands."

Prosperity definitely has its privileges, but practical limits seem to exist on how many and where. It can certainly provide the means to afford a relatively comfortable, if not necessarily carefree life, though not everything necessary to achieve and maintain that end can be inherited or purchased, or, indeed, possessed. The Prosperous remain vulnerable to most of the usual suspects. Hunger might only rarely cast a shadow across its porch, but misfortune shows no friends or natural enemies, and offers Quarter to pretty much nobody. Prosperity was never a guarantee of any happily-ever-after storylines. It might even amplify the sense of devastation at a loss, since the Prosperous do seem to possess more to lose than others. The Pre-Prosperous might not miss what they never acknowledged they possessed. The Prosperous miss their losses. They cost.

Practicing Prosperity tries to teach the Prosperous to hold their good fortune gently. Those who hold it too awfully tightly tend to strangle its benefits, producing a paranoia every bit as devastating as any actual loss, and perhaps even more so since that paranoia might persist much longer than could any true sense of any individual loss. Prosperity requires a definite humility because it comes without much in the way of guarantees. No promises accompany the franchise. On any given Tuesday, a tragedy could occur to even the most Prosperous family, and while they might be insured, their coverage can’t and won’t resolve their sense of loss. The insurance at best only covered the cost of replacement. One might rebuild a burned-out home, but with a house and never with anything even distantly resembling the lost home. Home must reside precisely where the heart always was. That replacement dwelling might one day come to replace that place that only ever resided within its owner’s chest, but not initially and perhaps never.

Misfortune offers no Quarter. It does not arrive, as the Bible insisted, like a thief in the night, but more like a pirate in midday light. It remains essentially heartless regardless of any pleadings for mercy. It seems both damned and determined to teach even the Prosperous unwanted and undeserved lessons. Whether or not these are of any use or significance probably depends upon the Prosperous’ interpretations. On the face of their unanticipated manifestation, they carry not an ounce of justification. Nobody in the history of this universe so far ever once deserved to be visited by this pirate, and, likewise, nobody ever gained an ounce of salvation by simply acceding to such unwarranted punishment. This might be the cruelest fate, but it won’t carry an ounce of divine (or otherwise) retribution. It will not have been earned. It will have just happened. No sins attracted it, and no sins will be washed away by its passage. In these ways, it will remain eternally senseless.

The Prosperous learn, like everyone learns (or not), not to take very much of what happens all that personally, for this world offers nobody any Quarter. There are no safe harbors. Sure, the Prosperous can and do afford to maintain a more cautious lifestyle. They regularly visit their dentists, for instance, perhaps the single best metric predicting a long and healthy existence, but even within this select population, shit still happens. It’s no greater tragedy, either, when shit happens to the innocent bystander, for there were never really any bystanders in this life and we’re all essentially innocent, regardless of the sins we’ve committed. We’re all principals in this extended acting company, some apparently more fortunate than others, at least until the Pirates, not from Penzance, come visiting. Terrrible things happen to even the most decent people. It becomes a gauge of character whether a decent person turns terrible after some truly terrible something happens to them and their Prosperity. Prosperity does not guarantee invulnerability. The Prosperous remain essentially as exposed as the pauper, regardless of their coverages.

The heat and wildfire smoke seem relentless because they are. I feel imprisoned within my Prosperity, though I might feel just as imprisoned regardless of my station in life. Not even closing the windows prevents that campfire scent from creeping inside. My throat feels raw from breathing particulate matter. I feel weary rather than Prosperous. I cannot purchase an exit from this experience. It arrives every summer, some worse than others, and even heaven, even this literal Eden still situated near the End of the Oregon Trail, turns into a little Hell during high fire season. Our Prosperity propelled us to take a tour around the Northwest last June. It seems now that everywhere we visited then has more recently been visited by fire. Our trail followed a path subsequent flame followed, up to and including Spokane, which experienced the worst natural disaster in this state’s history last weekend, with over seven thousand Prosperous homes lost and literally irreplaceable. Terrible things sometimes happen to even the Prosperous. If it’s any consolation, which it isn’t, nobody gets any Quarter in the tragedy business. It’s all pirates to our victims. Hold your Prosperity lightly lest it break you when it slips out of your hands.

©2026 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Prosperity, #PureSchmaltz