beset with dogs. . . laying on the deck in the sun, watching them walk around. . . i saw how ferocious they must look to squirrels and the like. . . i imagined if i were small enough for them to just gobble up. . . like my eyes were floating free of my body. . . then realized i was tripping on fasting. i took an hour and a half nap. man: good rest is so worth it. . . it’s been a while. i opted Chronotrigger a few hours, then spent a few hours transcribing (excerpt below) and practicing italian. simple: letting the days go by. . . / written on thanksgiving day in 2016, when on a three month meditation retreat - all the silly thoughts of the mind. . . but some sweetness in there. . . thinking about “gathering holidays” while being alone: Today. . . & yesterday i have had holiday memories. . . but more than the visuals, i was struck by the feeling. . . visiting relatives, various houses, different carpets, furniture, drapes, plates, smells. . . That young age when everything was confusion, a mystery - when i was profoundly aware of my ignorance & constantly in awe - the feeling of Traveling & entering into entirely different Realities - people acted differently - we were meant to act differently . . . so as i walked. . . after eating. . . after walking to the Love Shack, socializing & playing cards with Myself. . . walking by houses with many cars out front. . . where friends & family Gathered i thought of the different people i knew. . . & who they might be with, what they might be eating & drinking, the sounds of conversation & Laughter. . . walking alone on the cold, empty, silent winter road - i held my hands under my poncho. . . reflecting on the two men i’ve ever held hands with that made me feel loved. . . made me feel With someone . . . even though, it turns out, i wasn’t. & i thought of words from a recent talk: “you might find you can give yourself what you’ve always wanted some one else to give you” & i started saying in my mind things like “i love you. you’ll never be alone, i’ll always be with you. i’ll do my best to take care of you. To listen & understand you. . .” i cried a little. . . & looked out over the still pond - Perfect against the heavy iron sky - the weathered old dead branches reflecting sharply, poking out of the water. . . imagining the Beaver teaching their children how to make their own Lodges - wishing i could help. walking slowly. . . attended the 3:30 sit. gave up. gave up. gave up. sat and held my hand & comforted my self. . . & breathed deeply until the bell rang - i still have one more day of being Practice leader on Sunday - then i can only sit once a day if i like. i’m giving myself permission to give up after that.