I got lonely at some point today. Sensing the raw vacancy of that. I’ve been over the same ground lots of times so maybe it isn’t worth saying again. I visited a sick friend today… she’s not dying of cancer either. We are so engaged in living I’m not sure where the luxury of not preparing for death really becomes notable. Death itself isn’t so hard for a meditator… or so we think… but for those of us still here parting from all the “thingnesses” a person leaves behind is still tough, despite a certain endurance that builds in with time.
I don’t like to go out at night, especially alone, so this is the time, when I am a little tired and dulled. that time stretches and the silence closes in. When I sense into it it’s as transparent as cardboard. There is a texture like a headache… some kind of vacuum for freshness and aliveness that taps back just the fiber of my own complaint.