Thursday 9:29 p.m.
This was taken at 4:22 p.m. today.
Then I started digging till Brian Wilson showed up. He was so contrite about injuring me the last time we met that he only had a cup of coffee in the pub. And he bought me a pint of Erdinger.
I've had a great day today, spending most of it in the lobby. It occurred to me this morning that of the eighteen folk I remember in my meditations, sixteen of them died before they reached my age. That's all of them except my father-in-law and an old uncle of mine. Human existence is precious to me. Fabulous bliss today, but I tried to stick with the emptiness sometimes. I am not the body. It is not mine. I do not own it. It is not my self. One of these days, Jack. One of these days. Now I'm tired and will drink the beers!
2 comments:
You're sure it was contrition and not a mega-hangover.
Reassuring to hear that my existence is precious to you.
PS if it's not one's body, why does one bother pouring beer into it?
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