A Second Note On Despair: Isobel Izzy Nash Poem by Dennis Ryan

Tuesday morning, May 14, 2024 at 9: 20 a.m. and 10: 12 a.m.

" … the specific character of despair is precisely this: it is unaware of being despair."
—Soren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death

"Where every step I took in faith betrayed me …
It doesn't mean much, it doesn't mean anything at all …"
—Sarah McLachlan, "Sweet Surrender", from the studio album Surfacing, You Tube Music Video

I don't know how to deal with it, combat it.
Daily occurrences—I see the petty, the selfish everywhere.
But in their midst, some goodness, some light, however
slight. A few flickers serving as outposts. I keep this
candle burning, at times I know not what for: for family,
a few friends and acquaintances, for those who someday
will betray me, like Izzy, Isobel Nash. And so, this despair.
I haven't seen Izzy in more than a year, but it doesn't
matter; I know her well enough now to know this. Izzy's
shadow side—the thief, stealing from Sephora in Santa
Monica in 2021, then from me, my emotions in 2023,
running off with them and one of my signed poetry books.
What's possible? Relationships can repair themselves;
we can heal. Possibility, potential keeps me going …
(There's this Irish poet who lives in Stockholm. She …)
The human spirit is remarkably resilient. I invoke my
Irish, English, French, German, Polish and Lithuanian
ancestors who suffered through terrible atrocities so that
I might prosper—that possibility. Again, what's possible …
I fear no happy ending. Still, I am very grateful I am here,
full breathing, blood coursing through my veins, arteries
and heart this morning. Still, this note on despair, reader—
despite being untrustworthy, Izzy still means a lot to me.
She is flawed, vulnerable, needy, subject to temptation,
just like me. So much, there is much more to her, her story.