Dangerous Compassions

love one another

I like our hair turning gray.  No problem.  I like our comfort with one another.  I like trusting someone–never really did that before.  I like the freedom.  He helps me be a better Laura-Marie.

Not to mention all the kinds of support.  What a cool person.

We went to the hot springs.  I loved my body in the water, the heat of the water, being immersed, being held in the hot, slippery water.  A raven croaked nearby.  There’s no roof on the rooms, so the sky was there, great with clouds.  Wow, I really only needed ten minutes–floating, feeling the happiness of it, letting my body relax.

I asked Ming if I could touch his ankles.  He raised a foot to me.  I petted his ankles, the tops of his feet, and his calves a little.  Felt nice.  Then I did the other side.  Then I got too hot and was half in, half out of the water for a while.

They painted over some murals I liked.  They were sweet and chill, with blues and whites–the moon, a naked lady, maybe a dolphin?

Now–ugh!   Garish sunsets.   Very unrealistic garish sunsets in colors I can’t even look at.  Dang.

But the datura mural is still there, thank goodness, in the old style.

Things are changing a lot.  Today H knocked on the door.  I knocked back, and by his laugh, I knew it was H.  He handed me a present bag.

“Wow, opening presents.  Feels like Christmas or something!” I said to Ming.  I got some pretty notecards.  Ming got some tea.  We got two kinds of cookies.

On the pass (over the hump to Pahrump), a few snowflakes flew onto our car.  Does that mean we got a white Christmas?  I don’t want to google the definition of white Christmas.  Snow is cool.

I want to tell you–love is real.  You could look or wait, date, not date, try a website, try a meeting–whatever.  I know it’s probably better to try.

But if you want love, well, eventually you might be at a party, and a gorgeous someone could walk in who you say, Wow–what a pretty person.  He would probably never talk to me.  And the rest is history.

All kinds of love in this world.  If not a partner person, maybe a neighbor or relative.  Or a piece of land, or Mother Earth.  Or just some passing love to someone at the grocery store.  The smallest thing could change everything.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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