I am in a constant state of disappointment. I am disappointed in myself for not completing this task or that. I am disappointed in my children, for similar reasons. I am disappointed in old friends for their fading politics. Mostly though, my disappointment is aimed at politicians, particularly those I once respected.

I am not alone of course. A few years ago, rage filled every political space I occupied. Now, that fury has been displaced by disappointment. We are living in sorry times, and so I find myself trying to understand the function of disappointment, puzzling over what treasures may lie in the geography of our dismay.