The Missing

If you’ve lived with dementia in any way, take comfort from this. Wow. As I listened, thinking about my Mom and others in my life, I smiled some. We’re the one’s who choose to suffer, I think. The loss is more ours than their’s after a time. And as real as it is, wouldn’t we better off focusing, in an almost viciously selfish way, on what was? I think so.

I don’t miss them anymore. Or any less.


Looking West Across The Hudson From Mt. Rutsen
This is where I was able to take a lunch break the other day. Looking west across the Hudson River, the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge in the distance. From very near* the top of the fire tower on Mt. Rutsen in the Ferncliff Forest Preserve, Rhinebeck, New York, USA. *A swarm of bees/hornets kept me from the summit. It was a warm afternoon in the Hudson Valley.

Just when you think you need to run and escape it all, you stop to breath a moment, and find this.


Desert_Rose_LabyrinthThere are I think,  places that excite us.
Places that are filled with life, and  light.
Thin spaces they're called by some.
Spaces that call us,  invite us.  Come.
Mountaintops,  that tree,  a child's smile.
The labyrinth of our life,  so much of it vile;
Leads us to thinness, to places, to thoughts,
and feelings of a closeness we've sought.
Call it Divine, God, Spirit, Karma , Power, King.
Accept the offered. The thinness. Come.