The moon tonight suggests almost pregnancy, so full is it.
The blues band had a lengthy practice; and when it was over I went for a walk by Bayou St. John, the quiet water where I like to go to think.
I was thinking a lot about the past and how it’s misshapen the present. I’ve been thinking about the things I’m trying to do to take responsibility for the hurts I’ve caused, and how sometimes that feels like lying down under an avalanche. ]]>
From the iPhone:
I’m on the back porch of PJ’s Café, in the warm sun, reading. When I got here there was a waifish looking girl sitting alone without anything to eat or drink, with an overnight bag lying by her chair….
]]>We talked about relationships, about how we all kind of long for the easy, shallow intimacy of playing house and beach vacations and constant sex and every-night’s-a-date-even-when-you-stay-home. The kind of things we get when we’re single, or freshly in love, the period when you really aren’t getting to know the best of somebody but their best face. We all like that stuff: but it’s idiot-love. You no more know a person’s quality when they’re happy than you know a horse’s quality when he’s in the stable…
…Love isn’t measured by the amount of pleasure and satisfaction you get out of a relationship. It’s measured by how well you face the dark. ]]>
A cool hard late spring rain in New Orleans.
The thunder and the lightening are gathering a few miles away.
It’s strange to come unstuck (like poor Billy Pilgrim) in time. wandering in my memory through a lot of rainstorms in the past. I try to practice mindfulness and live in the present. But the past soaks into my skin with the rain. ]]>