Doug’s still with me
Not so long ago, within all the years of this life, someone stopped loving me. Recently someone new has arrived to love me, again. I’ve wondered out loud, “Do we get second chances?”, and in my case the answer is “Yes.”
Yesterday I was fortunate to have Thanksgiving dinner with four other people. Last year, Thanksgiving day, I spent time wandering the streets of Ocean Beach, California amidst the homeless gathered on one corner after another. I was one of them, even with a room to return to – a room with a bed and a lop-sided recliner and a bookcase full of magic. Not so much a state of mind as a state of soul.
It’s funny, I was keenly aware of some sense of responsibility to and for the people I was fortunate to have that meal with 16 hours ago. Even having met three of them only an hour or so earlier. I had the responsibility walking in the front door. I felt it alive within me. This morning I read in a book by Katsuki Sekida this line – “When it comes to service, everyone is the servant of others.” That feels like Thanksgiving talk. Getting to count blessings with listening and comfort and gratitude. Back to ET’s “I’m right here.”
Choices, choices, choices. Chances and offers from another day. So many offers. My long-gone best friend Dr. Douglas Martin and I used to joke together, “No sense makes sense.” So, all this doesn’t have to make any sense. It’s just stuff I’m feeling after two coffees when I got up even earlier than usual.
Like Thanksgiving stuff.