I looked up at the clock, 3:33 PM. Zach lies dying – rather on life support for now – in a Denver hospital bed, gunshot wound to the head the apparent cause of death.
His parents are flying in from out of state, most likely to say their goodbyes and let go the electronic barrier between the worlds.
I’ve never met Zach, only seen a picture, only learned his name today when Vanessa arrived, not just at that moment in tears but stricken at the sudden and bizarre loss of a man who had been a good friend to she and her husband.
Zach had been there first visitor from out of state after their recent move to San Diego. He had been a roommate and close friend of theirs in Denver before.
He was found alone in his overturned car, shot from behind… Only this strange vignette, no details or back story, a tragedy confounded by its surreal character.
Patience and I were on the veranda, I was finishing an omelette for lunch, last night’s stirfry leftovers cooked again to perfection with egg, when Vanessa pulled up, small in her small black coupe convertible.
I was moved at her mentioned that, though really brand-new here in our little scene, she was held in the sense of peacefulness that this would be a good place for her to be right now.
A dream this morning was also the scene of bizarre and enormous tragedy. The dream had a protagonist with whom I was not always identified, sometimes simply awareness witnessing him in third person.
On a boat with a politician, Indian, who was seeking power in contest with political rivals. As the protagonist and the politician sped away, the power seeker had fired from the shore a great cannon aimed at the boat of one of his contestors. On that same boat, the wife of the protagonist.
The canon shell was devastating, erupting in a massive inferno engulfing a wide region, as if a nuclear firestorm had detonated. The shockwave passed our protagonist, acutely aware – even before – of his beloved in harm’s way.
I was studying empathy yesterday briefly. I noticed that the protagonist was taking this death and destruction, not with indifference, but certainly a sense of simply “this is what is,” with a reverent, but not devastated, sadness.
In the dream, the protagonist was next again – back in time – with the wife and child, the day before the destruction. Distraught that things must play out as they must, resolved and yet somehow still inquiring about what other course might unfold. The destruction seemed certain, but there must and may be some alternative for the wife…
Meditation was at 7 AM. I rested peacefully until moments before my alarm would give notice that it was seven minutes to the hour. Stephanie appeared a few moments later, not her day to work here, but enthusiastically delighted to have this meditation to attend.
She and I and the lady P sat for a formal 20 minutes, a few minutes more for debrief. Stephanie took off to visit the parents, Patience and I began the routine. I turned on the audio of a favorite friend presenting – the Evolution of Shadow Resolution.
My friend Kim is a psychotherapist. I’ve always known he was best in class, but this presentation really broke down for me in notable detail just how sophisticated his view truly is. – Worth a listen if you practice leading people – from ahead or behind – or if you simply inquire within yourself.
Nurse Denise came by this morning to give us support in the suprapubic catheter change department. I don’t know if it’s accurate, but she reminds me of an old hippie, an easy disposition, someone who I could easily imagine having had as a teacher in the old days at that precious grade school in Montana…
I spent most of the day working on the curriculum we are developing for MettaCare. Though I found myself very tired this morning, I was gratefully spared any but the most minor of annoyances in the realm of discomfort.
Shortly before Vanessa’s arrival I began to feel a particular level of intense spasticity that Fortunately has not manifested into a full-blown incapacitation, but has nonetheless been with me throughout the afternoon.
Vanessa is in the kitchen making salad, LB going about his dinner plans as well. Patience and her daughter Devin are somewhere about, possibly in her room, possibly walking Uma, as the host tilts towards our evening study group, currently reviewing the text of the Tao of Pooh.
It never got very hot today, perhaps a protection of the smoke layer high in the air. I could smell smoke when Stephanie arrived this morning, but the scent was gone by the time I made the garden, just after 11 for late breakfast.
The house is open, cool but not cold air flowing through with the sound of the stream and the river of traffic laying down the later of white across the audio-scape. The light outside has a yellow hue as we countdown the last 90 minutes before the sun, wherever it is behind this washed layer of yellow grey, drops beyond the horizon.
Perhaps another somewhat early evening tonight…
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…