“Wow–I know why that guy got kicked out of the ashram,” I thought and stifled a giggle. Ming and I were at the Sunday quiet Quaker meeting, and the bright cyclist had been falling asleep over and over, more than usual. It culminated in his falling off the pew entirely. Kerplump.
Holy crap. He woke up on the floor, and he sat there. He acted like he wanted to be there. I looked at the other people who had noticed. I looked at Ming, wondering if he should play the nurse card and help the fallen one. Maybe the Quaker has narcolepsy also. They could disabled bond.
But the fallen one seemed fine. He was not grabbing an ouched leg or looking scared or anything. He was acting like it was a normal day, so yeah. He gets to decide what’s his normal day.
After the hour of quiet worship, there were announcements, then stand around and talk time. I thought maybe Ming should talk to the sleeper, but the sleeper was busy chatting with someone else.
attachment
I like this essay about eldering and attachment to all things, not just people. A friend quoted from it on facebook, so I sought the whole thing.
But I can’t read it well–my eyes are getting worse. The contrast is poor, and the font is small and unclear. I changed the settings on my chromebook to display everything bigger, but it’s not working so great. It’s only sometimes.
I feel sad. I feel lonely, but lonely only for people who know how to love me. Gentle kindness and wild creative brilliance would help. The harshness of the world is wearing me down. I miss my mom. Ming can’t do everything.
quaker
I was sick, so we missed Quaker church, and now Ming is having his turn. Quiet worship is my favorite. Someone asked me to be on the hospitality committee.
“Does hospitality just mean food?” I asked.
I guess I look nurturing. Food is great, but I can only be social for a short time. If hospitality was about helping churchgoers feel welcome and at home, I would have other ideas.
