Kabir Kadre
Kabir Kadre

A little time to read

Kabir Kadre|1 year, 8 months ago

Sleep came slowly last evening. For the care crunch, Patience offered to help me down in the evening, to care for us both, it would have to be early.

Lights out was 8 PM. I finished my first meditation and turned to rest about an hour later. I would undertake two or three more, I lost count. Sometime after midnight I found my body convinced to rest in sleep.

Morning was but six hours behind. Rising again to begin the day with two more meditations. These are precious moments when I have both the time, the energy, and the discipline to really focus on that practice of cutting through the noise of mind to that place of unfolding moments.

The sensation of a paralyzed body, I think stands out in this context, although nearly 18 years later, I’m not sure I remember quite well for comparison.

Mike and Patience would be back from their island accommodations near 9 AM which left me a little time to rest further and take in some audio.

The morning from there was steady and familiar. I listened again to Katie’s latest podcast, drinking in the views and perspective of a world in crisis. My backside tender parts, mostly healed of late, were showing some sign in one particular spot that things were not going quite as well as they might. Darkness under the skin and a failure to “blanch” left concerns for care to be taken.

… Last light of the sun is dropping over the hill just now, Vanessa making dinner sounds in the kitchen… Glow and sparkle, shimmer through the tree branches, and gone. Day comes to an end.

I spent about an hour on my side relieving pressure from the sore area, then to rising. Always much to do these days.

David called as I was getting dressed, wanting to check in on the nature of things local to me. A few moments later, Elisa called and we conference her in. Now up in my chair, I brushed my teeth while she shared briefly on the state of her world. A close colleague of hers, and friend to us all, Rego would be up for an award today. An activist and humanitarian, he easily deserves this recognition whether it would be given or not.

“I’m challenged” I said, “to take this view that there are problems. I recognize that this view is not often easily taken seriously, yet for me there seems to be some essential framing around the nature of where we stand, what has come before, and what is possible from here.” We were back to talking about things local to me, I was starting with reflections on the podcast.

I think more on this than I will say here, but I do think grief and forgiveness have a place in our capacity to respond lovingly to the earth, the gift of life, and one another here, regardless of the time of our living.

Elisa departed for the award conference over zoom while David and I carried on. Simultaneous to all of this I have been communicating with Eliana to advance some possibilities of help she may have sourced for our brother LB.

Sadly after working on that all day, with a little help from me, we still have not heard back or any word for that matter of the young man. Not on the roles of San Diego jail, not found through SDSU, even the telephone numbers he left me for his mother and father seem partially accurate at best.

One friend called, or rather left a voice message by text to say that she was in mourning having received word of the death of a friend far away from her. Another text from another friend whom I called back, they had contracted Covid and were now quarantined from their wife and child, concern for their health thinly veiled.

… Hours elapsed for evening study, Patience’s daughter, Devin, and our friend Claudia, the lady of the house, Vanessa and myself reading from the work of EJ Gold…

Where was I?…

Oh yes, attempting to cook the front bedroom from the infestation brought in the bags of our brother LB. Our feeble tools not producing the heats we have hoped. Alternative services from the professionals ranging from $300-$1200, almost enough to buy our own tools. Vanessa made some investigations today, will follow up tomorrow.

I also reached out to investigate whether an old friend might make a good new care partner… She has moved further away, but we may still entertain the journey… A few more days to really consider.

A full day, participating in the professional community that is STAGES. A short phone call with mom this morning, on the video, to accompany her from picking up her taxes to a morning walk at the Y, gazing out the window at the Connecticut rain. News of my daughter studying to start a new school, not as student, but as practitioner. The STAGES community has some likely useful materials for the endeavor.

Patience was tender, dropping Mike at the airport to fly home again in the midday. She is meeting her feelings these days with deepened and newly willing vulnerability. We met for a time, our plans for the MettaCare weekend workshop having shifted now so long ago and so much transpired in the interim, this was the first moment we had to ask together, what next…

The landscape changing beneath our feet daily. Fortunately there is work at hand, direction can come later. We spent our time surveilling the landscape together, just getting clear as to where we are today, plans for the future will come later. We set a meeting for Friday.

I have much to decide, and much to apply myself towards, I decided to spend the next few hours refining an already clarified sense of purpose and direction, the skill of the path the question of the hour. I poured myself into this set of exercises for a while, then turned to this journal.

Vukica called and we spoke for about 30 minutes. I wrote a few more words and then retired to our shared reading. Devin arrived with a broken heart, her relationship freshly broken. The book is a very pointed description of one version of the spiritual path, apropos of those of us suffering and struggling.

I did some translation work, particularly to save Vanessa from a rabid confusion – I had not realized this was her first encounter with the book, which we are now nearly halfway through. Certainly, standing in her shoes reading the short chapter on the Corridor of Madness, I could see the confusion. 🙂

After the reading we spent some time offering love and reassurance to the young woman struggling to right herself after that all-too-familiar upset of breaking ways with one we might’ve thought could have gone with us differently.

Vanessa will be back with me in the morning, it’s late now, time to turn in. It’s

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God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…