Dangerous Compassions

glowing of the doors

“Hey, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m…” …

“…seeing how long you can pause mid-sentence and it still be the same sentence?” I asked.

“I’m….what were we talking about?”

“What you’re doing.”

“Oh, I don’t know what I’m doing.  I think I need to put on my pants.”


“Because then I’ll be more likely to be wearing pants.”

“Ok,” I said.  “Why do you need to wear pants?”

“I should probably water the garden,” he said, which I’m 99% sure was a fake reason.  I asked, and he grabbed the nearest convenient, plausible reason, which is not an actual reason at all.  Poor pump.

“Oh, you haven’t watered yet?” I asked, pretending kindly that his reason was actual.

“No,” he said.

I really want those little lavender babies to live.  They are barely growing, the two seedlings that survived, but I hope they figure life out.  My good friend gave me the seeds the night of my mom’s service, in the prayer room.

“Ok, my pants are on now.  Now I can do different things.”

“More pantsy things?”

“Yes, more pantsy.”

We were laughing.  I’d had an anger attack earlier, nothing to do with him.  Anger feels like a form of anxiety for me, much of the time.

I got upset about one thing, and suddenly I was upset about 20 things, at least.  It was an uncomfortable couple hours.  Eventually, lying in bed in the dark, txting friends, I calmed down.

“I think I move at a slower rate than you,” he said.

“What?” I asked, turning around to look at him.  “No one’s ever said that to me in my life!  What’s today?  May 6, 2020.  This is a momentous day!”

I thought of the very, very few people I’ve known who were slower than I am.  Both are elders.  I felt affection for them.

Here’s a 360 of the Goddess Temple that Ming took the other day, flat version.  I totally love it, and the glowing of the doors.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *