I took a break from the dinner conversation, leaned out of a staircase window and had a cigarette. Friday night and still the little town so quiet. You can see stars here. I took deep drags and meditated over glowing embers, the proper courtyard below. How do they get the grass to grow so primly?
We were celebrating the new friends' engagement. Three months apart, three weeks together, and already ready to make promises. It made me smile, earnestly, I adore them their sparkling eyes and lack of pretense. This is what happens to cynics like us, she said and noddded in my direction.
A dear friend from stranger times returned from a Vipassana silent meditation retreat and said his life had changed completely. Everything arises only to pass away. I admired him his nearness to zen, his letting things run off his back. But I did not envy him.
Is not the struggle what makes us human? Is not the constant tugging, the crashing waves and the rarity of sunshine what teaches us our outlines and the beauty of our impermanence?
My roommate went to New York today. I forgot to forget you, again.
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