Trying to be someone not trying to be anything, or Meeting yourself on the way down.

Last hours of a difficult week, the afternoon light dims as the trees turn into silhouettes against the still-light-blue sky. The hardest week so far. The challenge has been to meet myself in these circumstances. "There he is. This is what you are." Hold the mirror up, the most difficult thing is to use the mirror that doesn't judge or add a commentary. You have to trust it without feeding on the image.

My late wife, Kim, "is everywhere". I can hardly drive down a street without some strong recollection of Kim being by my side, visiting the dollar store a few weeks ago or the hundreds of times I accompanied her to that hardware store since we moved up to this area. Our home is nearly all Kim, Kim interrupted. It is all still so fresh for me; there were things she was doing and saying just weeks ago that would have put her here in this week and next and next week. Her decision to plan and execute a successful suicide was long in coming and brief in choosing. And all the possible reasons that were my part in it pale in sadness when I think instead of what I knew of her feelings and her despairing point of view. I am sad for her to not see this day, to not have a cat to cuddle, to not have an idle moment of boredom. I have cried a week's worth of tears because of the sadness she left me with, stranded. Now looking back, she was not a little child but she seems like one, with a fierce guardian determined to save her from further pain at all costs, the ultimate cost. Beautiful child. If only we knew what it meant to her, if only we saw through her eyes for just one moment. It was not to be, not to be more for us. We go on to our own days, limited as they are.

Compounding my pain has been the loss of companionship with my closest friend, E. I pray for guidance to be a better friend in the future and that E will reach out at that time. And always that her days are full and free. I have other good friends, but I felt alone with myself this week despite their best efforts. Turn it over, as glib as that seems, I must. I miss E.

This sad and lonesome state I'm in is nearly madness. What is the message for me? What meaning can I find in these changes, other than sadness and loneliness?

Mini-geographic attempts at sanity today

Went for a drive up the delta to Isleton for yummy and healthy lunch. River's Edge Cafe, on the old Main St. off Hwy 160. Roast turkey sandwich on their housemade foccacia with deliciously seasoned creamy dressing, and mixed greens salad with Lil's signature Garlic Walnut Vinigarette. Then delicious housemade apple coffee cake, real cake with lots of baked cinnamon. Very pleasant and calm atmosphere, and all the tables were in use. Beautiful weather, beautiful day on the delta.




Took a nap. That was OK, not very successful. I had a clear vision of Shell Ridge in my mind and headed up for a hike. Listened to Ven. Ajahn Sucitto speaking about the challenge of meeting yourself, of becoming and letting it go instead of clinging and feeding on the image. Some peace, much reflection, a deeply contemplative walk in a most beautiful location.








I couldn't stop crying as I drove down the familiar streets toward home. How can an absence be so solid? Time for a late dinner and then to bed to sleep.

I miss Kim.