We talked about death some, my death, but not a lot. It was mostly just the easy kind of being and conversation that happens with a close friend, and the subtle sweetness and sorrow of knowing that it is probably the last time.
(Rick Fields: in the light of death/
I was telling Julie the other day that sometimes I feel as if I have some kind of contract or agreement with people that I am going to be around at some later date. I will work with you on this or that retreat in two years, or in a several years I will be there to help you with something, or do some project...a hundred little things. I couldn't even say what they are until I'm with the person and I am reminded of what I was planning on being there for that I am not going to be there for. Then I feel that I am bailing out on all that, on all these assumed RSVPs suddenly coming out of nowhere. And I feel bad, even though there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Not that hardly any of this is even conscious.
I'm feeling a bit sad today and that is probably coming out here.
I'd like to get a sublet somewhere leafy and not foggy on the peninsula for a month, but not sure I'm going to be able to manage to look for and/or find one. Sometimes it seems that it is too late.
If anyone out there wants to copy and paste my blog entries (text only, not photos) in chronological order into a document and send it to me or Vidyadevi, that would be super helpful. (Currently the order is backwards if you know what I mean, it begins with the most recent post, not at the beginning!) Lisa Kee graciously did this up to December 20, 2012, so we need what's after that. Just doing one month would be helpful. Vidyadevi and I are starting to work on book editing again. Yay!
This morning, this came in an email from a friend in London: