We were talking yesterday about how, going through life, people inhabit and transit through various “worlds,” never remaining in one place permanently. Jane’s 16, kind of lives “in the moment,” and hasn’t yet bothered to ponder the “worlds” concept.
I think of my various worlds and try to remember where, if anywhere, I was happiest because most of my past consists now of lost worlds, never to be re-entered, re-visited.
Yesterday I visited Iguana Island off of Providenciales. It was definitely Iguana World there, so much so that when the park warden showed us off the island and bade us farewell, I immediately imagined him transforming into an iguana as soon as he vanished from our sight.
It was a fabulous, peaceful place and the iguanas, chasing each other like our cats and dogs do at home, eating bright red bell peppers, seemed completely and comfortably ensconced in their universe, living in their various moments.
I’m fairly discontent currently, but have made solid (but flexible) escape plans. I think Turks and Caicos may definitely be “the ticket.”
We were talking about him over dinner and Caroline told me that after his capture (where the police sought and obtained the assistance of Ted Bundy as a serial killer “profiler”), a psychiatrist asked Ridgeway what it was he thought made him different than other people.
Ridgeway replied “that caring thing.”
That was so sharp, direct and simple a definition of sociopathy. About a year ago, a friend sent me an article published at Harvard, I believe, claiming that 25% of the U.S. population were sociopaths. I think that figure is ludicrously high, but also that the number isn’t as low as we in our various worlds would like to think it is.