Kabir Kadre
Kabir Kadre


Kabir Kadre|1 year, 9 months ago

Dark. Very dark. The moon still hides, not yet revealing itself as new.

RIP our BG (of course the voice software would type that in response to “RBG.”)

If all goes as it seems it will go, this day, September 18, 2020 is a substantial and watershed day in American history. Perhaps it is so even if it does not go as it seems it will go.

I dreamt last night that someone bought me a motorcycle, someone out of frame. The motorcycle was delivered to me by the Gypsy who sold it, used, a bit old, but in very good condition. The gypsy had a wife it seems, also in frame.

I saw a Harley-Davidson yesterday, perhaps this chance encounter was collected by my subconscious to be replayed last night in the dream. We were parked behind the bike at an intersection, it’s high back with metal skull grinning back at us reminds me of the backrest on the bike I received from the Gypsy.

The dream bike had tailpipes instead of the skull climbing up the back of the backrest, and somehow, a spacious trunk built into the back rest, dark and plush, the size of the summer cooler from my youth.

We started meditation five minutes late this morning, just waiting on Stephanie who didn’t show. She texted in a few minutes before the meditation finished, alarmed and excited and anxious, she had just woken to her slept through alarm.

I told her not to worry, take a breath, come at pace and at peace.

Patience kindly offered me a morning glass of water on her way out to spend the day with her daughter for a birthday celebration for the young one.

Stephanie arrived, not at peace, anxious and concerned, she very much does not like this kind of disorder in a way countless before her leverage such concerns for enormous success in the world. Talking her down off the ledge, I encouraged (and convinced) her to take a few more moments to herself and get a little breakfast in the kitchen before we began.

Rising was quicker than I expected, finding that our healing techniques for the broken skin were well up to par and what was yesterday a still open concern had all but vanished by this morning.

I rose to breakfast, correspondence, and continuing my study of the erupting field of DeFi in parallel to continuing to nudge Stephanie into territories of gentle discomfort and growth – this time charging her with organizing our digital tools for medical supplies inventory management.

As I got her settled I turned my attention to the monthly community meeting of the Project Apollo cohort. I never imagine that I have the four hours to devote to that call each month on a Friday midday, and when the time comes I never imagine that I could miss it.

Today I again logged in to greet 16 others smiling faces (give or take a few depending on the time of day) grinning back their combined uncountable years of wisdom, experience, skill, brilliant intelligence, and heart.

I was present and distracted, engaged with discussions on how to nurture more empowerment both in the fields of patients of our medical care, as well as in those professionals attending to their well-being, and what and how to develop a well-being timeline for one’s life and evolving health journey, while simultaneously attending Stephanie’s learning curve and reading charts to understand the movements of this sudden new economic territory.

It wasn’t until after the call, glancing at twitter to check the pulse of the crypto finance pundits that I came across word of the passing of our beloved Ruth. Just moments before in fact I had taken the luxury of 45 minutes to “doodle” a digital feeling to be included in a memorial piece for our beloved co-conspirator in the dawning of the Project Apollo initiative.

The life of death was in the air. Two powerful and impactful women breathing their life beyond the veil into me this late afternoon.

Tonight the household finished our first book in our study group, reeling from the implications of a shortstaffed Supreme Court, we took in final chapters of the simple bear learning Chinese wisdom and selected the perhaps appropriately titled next book in our journey: a Guide for the Perplexed, a short read that once moved me but that I have since forgotten.

Now in the very dark night, I turned to write these pages and find my way to bed to wake and do again the day tomorrow.

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