Friday, July 3, 2020

How To Grieve A Gift

Competence. Arrogance. What are you taking?

Dandelions go to seed under apple trees whose blossoms were duller this year than expected. We nudge the garden a certain way and are changed forever accordingly. Over the river, and the fields on the far side of the river, a bald eagle circles

Late but not too late one begins to ascertain the limits of her attention, and adjusts their expectation accordingly. No more fairy tales please. How the light disappears from any living thing's eye when its heart stops.

Reading Feynman, bored. Notice the violets, who do not object to being your teacher, don't run around cultivating an audience. Relationship as a form of obedience. 

He taught me how to grieve, a gift I am only just now beginning to realize and bring into application. There are no mysteries but there are places we have not been and cannot describe. Scrambled eggs and tomato wrapped in corn tortillas and eaten standing, plotting the day.

Plans to meet in Buffalo scuttled, just as the plans to meet in Brattleboro were scuttled, and plans to meet in Ashtabula were scuttled, and can you see now the theme, are you ready at last to stop fighting. Sexual healing is nontrivial but partners matter less than one thinks. Please open your bible to Paul's second letter to the faithful of Corinth and we will begin.

Simple coffins suffice, simple openings. The King, my Lord, at last is dead.

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