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letting happen

Sleep is not easy. Last night I had a dream.  A friend was sitting alone on a chair. He said he was lonely. He said he last best friend was moving away. It was a big empty room for a conference. There was no conference. There was only the hug of my friend and his loneliness.

Jobs, eating, sleeping. All these things feel abstract. What does it mean? Sleep? Eat? Work?

How to go about doing all those things?

How to quiet the mind. To focus on letting my mind wander? To not figuring and planning?

To go about all the dailyness of life without getting lost in it?

Where does my attention go?

Is there someone in charge of me?

Who would that be?

I had some comforting thoughts about Aaron no longer suffering. No longer feeling the pains of this existence.

But that kind of comfort comes and goes.

Getting things done is important. But what about insight and intuition? There is something to be said about focus and not being grabbed. Giving attention with a warm heart and kindness. How is my breath my body my face? What are these things?

What are my memories of Aaron. They are warm. They are sad.

How do I choose to remember Aaron? Where is Aaron?

The ordinariness of life right now bothers me. On and off. The dump trucks and people pouring out of pubs. What is in this room?

The heart's expression is not should or should not. It is just moved.

Where does it move? What is e-motion?

Aaron's laugh is with me. His smile. His compassion. His understanding.

To sit with things unresolvable. To stop trying to resolve them. To hold something in the heart in a larger way.

I can't make something happen now. I can only let what is happening happen.







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Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
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