I am losing the ability to write. I am losing the ability to run. I am losing the ability to walk. My body and mind have entered the death bardos. I believe I have been wandering in this bardos for at least one year. Spending the past year continually going beyond, there is one thing which I still possess but had forgotten about, and as I soon meet the beyond it will be required that I rely on something other than myself.
Last week I was sitting on a park bench at dusk, relaxed, motionless, still. I was wearing the ball cap which was gifted to me posthumously by my grandfather. I recall a memory of him walking my sister and I to a park and as we played he sat motionless on a bench, smoking a cigar in silence and peace. I am now become him, old, dying, silent, at peace.
Today, sitting under the tree, I was like a seed which had dropped upon the ground, with the potential to become a massive presence of calm and peace. Time, the sequential kind, is what makes things seem long and hard, but isn't it possible that time has other dimensions which gives one a faded taste of future happenings? Somewhere in time I have grown into something solid and tall, and today was my first step to getting there. - Saturday, May 25, 2013 The Tree