I have been thinking of some of my dear
friends who have passed on into the void at young ages…Lisa; found on her
kitchen floor days after she passed out, face pressed flat so that it stuck on the linoleum by the time they
found her. To Scotty; whose body was found in a booth at the Adult Bookstore on
State Street with his rig dropped on the sticky floor… Jimmy whose body washed
up on Hendry’s beach after he fell drunk one night out of his skiff… to others who passed in emergency rooms with as
much dignity as could be afforded on hospital beds with tubes and wires keeping
the body going long after the spirit had left it. To so many others… they were
friends of mine… and while some were betrayed by compulsion, heart-break, addiction
and fears, and longing; a few others, but only a handful, like Big Al and my
father went peacefully, surrounded by loved ones.
It is a beautiful Sunday morning and,
though my thoughts might seem morose to some, I am inspired by these losses to
live my life with devotion and skill in their honor. I devote my core being and
labors of the day to their sacrifice within the dance and song of the Heart of
Compassion. This too is where my heart beats.
geo 5,571
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