Laura, I love you. And other thoughts.
I have moved among the world. I have thought, I have discussed, have seen, tasted, smelled, heard, hurt, written, and so forth, in amongst the world.
And I have seen my independence, so dependent on the inherent, profound, complete interconnective nature of everything.
I move in the world in a way, in a manner, with ideas and with feelings and calculations.
I have begun to think clearly, to see my way more clearly and at the same time, not at all.
In speaking to Laura the other day, amongst the sun and lemoney soda water and apricot bread and lots of love, I found myself saying something unexpected. Something to the effect of that, for all of the hurt, the hours of crying (20 or so of them on my way back from Europe), the love, for all of this continually changing shifting guessing what's good and what I will regret, I realised this. I am happy in how I move in the world, now. This, here, now, and the growing old and the nostalgia, I have unlocked an undercurrent of happiness in my heart, of peace, that sits still and watchful while all the turbulence of life tumbles over it. I have come to know myself and to not mind not knowing, and learned to make decisions I won't regret and to not regret decisions that I've made, and I am really, really living. I am living completely. I am complete, plus or minus, like the ocean.
I love you Laura, thanks for your conversation. We are sunshine and soda, in these days.