(The blog following the first year is titled: On My Wife, Joan)
"You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you, no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself."
RAINER MARIA RILKE, Letter to a Young Poet *
The turtle, seen and unseen, has walked with me for two years now. The Honorable Fuji Yama San, the cat, has shared my bed and done his duty. This time was no time, it never is since all is an illusion--mere make believe.
Saturday night, no carousing, I'm on my own looking for a purpose, passing from night to day, warmth to coldness, no beginning, no middle, an end.
A personality attracts another, a unit becomes two units and creates a third totally unique and unto itself, a secret common entity assembled in moments long forgotten, one decision at a time, installments for the permanent record, written in invisible ink that never leaves the page.
A last moment keeps happening again and again, seeking a more precise recollection, then it is gone and I have to start over:
What am I here for?
Time to slow down, time to look at what's on the shelf, time to form new impressions, time for another journey, time for quiet reflection, time for participles, time for particulars, passivity, patterns to emerge
There was an era when we believed each other, but it is gone since Hamlet couldn't make up his mind. A few are like Faust, joining god and the devil within, light and darkness, pain and joy. There is nothing like death, your death, that makes it so clear.
* My appreciation to Mercedes Arnao for supplying this quote.