Antico (Pier Jacopo Alari Bonacolsi)
Paris
(ca. 1518–1524)

"Restoring Prosperity properly refocuses its inherent potential."

“Please return your tray tables to their full upright position.” This common command stands here as the simplest example of Restoring. What was undone might be redone. What seemed irrevocably lost might be capable of Restoring, if not itself, then, perhaps, a successor or substitute. ProsperityLost might serve as the first move in a cyclical pattern of Restoring Prosperity again. I will pine after an exact replica of whatever I lost, even though Restoring that might well shortchange me. I rarely imagine replacing it with something better than whatever I lost. This amounts to an aspirational affliction, perhaps due to a faulty imagination, or maybe I simply imprinted on that ProsperityLost so the loss became my Prosperity, at least temporarily; plenty of nothing beats nothing left at all.

Six weeks and change after The Muse broke both ankles, her osteopath released her from wearing the boots that stabilized the broken bones. While reviewing her latest X-ray, taken moments before the examination, he pronounced her essentially healed and able to walk to whatever extent she feels she can. I wheeled her out of that office in the soon-to-be-retired wheelchair, with those boots in her lap. We’d forgotten to bring shoes, or she would have at least attempted to walk if not dance out of there. Once back to The Villa, I ran inside to fetch her shoes and her walker. She very tenderly took a few tentative steps. She carefully climbed the deck steps instead of scooting up them on her butt. By the time she’d made it into the house, she was exhausted. Her knees complained after six idle weeks. It was clear that she would have to learn how to walk all over again.

Restoring Prosperity might occur just this gingerly, with baby steps rather than seven-league ones. The improvement might not initially seem anything like an adequate replacement. The first purpose of Restoring Prosperity, or anything, really, must be to reclaim its potential, which must inescapably begin as imaginal: that image comes first. One inhabits the sense of possibility again, then backfills content. What was that ProsperityLost, anyway, but an absence of that sense? The contents followed and might have never really constituted anything more than resonance echoing that sense. To lose possibility is to utterly forfeit former potential. The rest of the accompanying catastrophe is just calamity rather than substance. The Muse walked better the second day, though she still found it exhausting. She re-entered her garden and set about finding all the tomatoes that had been hiding from my inept eyes. It was finally her garden again, worse for her absence but far better for her return.

My pickup had abandoned us, seeming to lock us out and requiring a tow to take her home. I learned by losing that mobility, a kind of Prosperity I’d set aside while attending to The Muse’s recovery, that inattention and abandonment can effectively smother Prosperity. It won’t necessarily be patiently waiting for my return, but it requires visits, or it loses more than its ardor. A car battery left unused for as little as six weeks can completely discharge itself, ironically powering the vehicle’s anti-theft system. Recharging took more than a day on my patient mechanic’s charger. He refused to charge me anything for his trouble. The auto parts store clerk restored the battery’s anchor, which I’d destroyed removing the dead battery, and even installed it for me without charging me a nickel for his effort. He even beamed at me when I thanked him for his trouble: Prosperity, that sense that I could cruise anywhere, more than fully restored, I took a toodle out to a farm market and U-picked beans for supper, feeling as prosperous as Croesus, maybe more.

Prosperity will very likely abandon The Muse and me again. Occasionally losing that sense of potential might even help build and maintain character. It’s never anything less than upsetting, and most often feels more destructive than it probably ever is. ProsperityLost wounds more deeply than Restoring Prosperity ever suspects. It’s unforgettable but not necessarily regrettable. Much of the richness Prosperity holds comes from experiencing its absence first. It contains no other substance than this satisfaction that only veterans of its loss ever fully appreciate. This explains why one cannot be born to Prosperity, for any Prosperity never lost can’t provide an adequate sense of discovery and ownership that true possibility always entails. The practice of Prosperity involves this continual expansion: aspiration naturally followed by investigation, and investigation followed by further expansion. Prosperity naturally expands beyond its originating boundaries. That might be all it ever does. It never sleeps. This might be why Prosperity always seems infinite until it doesn’t. ProsperityLost might be nothing more or less than a glaring absence of an otherwise run-of-the-mill infinite. Restoring Prosperity properly refocuses its inherent potential.

©2026 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Prosperity, #PureSchmaltz