Dangerous Compassions

what life is

rice facts

“Yeah, there’s more rice.  A crescent of rice.  You can help yourself.  Or I can get it for you.”

He walked to the kitchen to get some rice.  “It’s funny–no one talks about that.  How if you make some rice, and there’s a layer at the bottom of the pot.  So you take some out, and more out.  And if there’s some left, it’s on the edge in a crescent.”

He came back with more rice.  “Rice makes those tunnels in it too, from the steam,” I said.  “No one talks about that either.  But that’s life.  Right?”

“That is life,” he said.  What life is.

“Maybe they’re talking about it somewhere else,” I said.  “Maybe they’re speaking a language I don’t know.”

He put red pepper flakes on his rice.  I’ve been having back pain.  I told him I hate when the physical pain and emotional pain get all mixed together.  Then I become a pain creature.

talking to trees

“That was really bad the other day, when we were walking around outside, so slow, and I could barely walk.  I was trying to help myself, but I was like–is this really helping?”  I watched Ming eat rice from the big lovely bowl.

“Maybe it did help,” I said.  “I had to try something.  At least we looked at those trees.  Did you like that?”

“Yeah, I did,” he said.

“I was criticizing the trees in my head, then trying to make friends with them again.  Does everybody do that, in their head?”  They were mulberry trees, I must admit, some of my least-favorite trees.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Is that a crazy thing?”

tree search

“Most people don’t talk to trees in their head,” he said.  “Or don’t admit it.”

“Is that shameful?” I asked.  “It’s not hurting anyone, to talk to trees.  Who else would you talk to?”

trumpet vine seed pods

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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