My friend cancelled our lunch. That's good, it gives me more time to work. But I'm in an off mood today. When I've planned my time one way, I can't always switch quickly.
I'm eating take away Indian food by myself at home. I didn't even feel like being out somewhere.
In the car, I was listening to Garrison Keillor. I like his work quite a bit. He was talking about being lonesome. It's such a sad word.
Not that I meant to say that I am lonesome. Not exactly. Of course, I am lonesome -- in the way that all of us are lonesome. In the way that all of us are alone, within ourselves, and within our routines of the day. In our minds, listening to the flow of our unique and only thoughts.
But, more, I meant that I feel tremendous sympathy for those who are lonesome. I imagine it. When Keillor talks about awakening in the night, and feeling the absence of the spouse on the pillow next to him, and not having anyone to talk to, to talk about the small moments of the day, and with whom to share -- that's the part that hits me hard.
But, on my own, in my home, with my tv show and my peace and my lunch in styrofoam cups and boxes spread across the glass coffee table, I am lucky to have those few quiet moments. My dharma is much more the path of being together with others 24 hours per day. I move from person to person during the course of the sun's path and the stars' light. To say that I am lonesome is to say that the ocean is dry lately. And yet... I do feel... aware...