Only the pictures are coming.
Habit and hope.
35 years of this subtle itch, gone.
Can't bring myself to find someone else to give them to.
Books are given to friends to read. Many don't come back.
I don't care. More will come, or not.
Hanging onto spiritual words is no longer needed.
Listening to them, resonating with a fellow soul, loving the richness of experience shared, that is something still.
I talk on Facebook to people who have in some way seen this. Sometimes I have lunch with people who have seen this. Mostly we talk about our lives, nothing special, we laugh a lot.
You could be sitting a the next table and you would think, crazy people, but having a good time.
What is there left to do but live?
Whatever happens next, I guess it's perfect.
I hope whatever you get is a gift that you want. And whatever falls away, you discover you don't need.