Just sit in silence, alone or with another or others, and look out at trees and sky and breathe.
Ah!!! Doesn't that feel wonderful, that breath going in and out, passing between you and me and the trees?
It is like we are tossing a ball, back and forth, through the fall.
I saw a meteor last night. It flashed right across my path like a giant match striking the flint inside.
My book group offered the sweetest of support last night, and I cried.
Early this morning my friend Jane wrote a poem to me, and I cried when I read it.
Leo the cat may have a home with Terry's sister Pam. I moistened at the beauty and care in that too.
I wanted to talk about time today, and melting, and dissolution, and trusting a world outside.
I realize in this that I am trusting the medical community, a group of people outside myself, my family and friends.
I have never liked to take drugs. I never wanted anything to interfere with this being that I seem so smugly and snugly to be.
Now, I have been feeling concern about infiltrating my body with drugs I do not yet understand.
What will they be doing in there? But what is "in there?" There is no In, There.
(nor childhood home for Gertrude Stein in Oakland either.)
I am open and empty and connected and full. I sit with that. I breathe. There is no "me."
I am opened like a swirl to mobius strip.