The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Tuesday, April 5, 2016


As I sat still yesterday tears came suddenly to my eyes.
You were supposed to take care of him, the thought came out of the blue.
Today I noticed that I play a very ridiculous game on my phone - popping dots by "shooting" a dot at them - while I'm "waiting".  Waiting is different then "doing nothing", or "wasting time", or "lounging around". Waiting is actually active, an activity.  I did begin to play a couple of games on an app -  WORDS WITH FRIENDS, also YAHTZEE by some other name - when I sat with my brother.  While I was taking care of him.  While he was dying.  I deleted the with friends games, but kept the solitary game.  I still play it sometimes.  I play it when a program is airing on my laptop.  I play it sometimes before I'm tired enough to sleep at night.  I think the brightness makes my eyes wish to close.  I play it while I am waiting.  It keeps my hands busy when I don't want to think.  

I did the best I could.  

This topic I'm looking into talks about mindless activity.  For example eating the entire bag of popcorn - maybe you would have been satisfied with just a bowl full (which is also a mindless choice - you will eat till it's empty no matter the size of the bowl, we are so conditioned and do it on autopilot).  I have previously learned (learnt) that tossing decisions in to a "habit bucket" frees up space for activities which require real thinking.  This also happens - if I have a candy dish sitting out where I see it, and even more so if it is transparent, I place myself in the position of having to decide whether or not I want candy.  After I asked myself that question repeatedly (over time)  I will automatically (very likely to anyway) get a piece (or handful or seven in my case) of candy.  Even writing (because thinking) about candy makes me want to respond to candy.

Playing that game reminds me of my brother.  When I think of him, my deepest memory of "him" is tapped. "I am supposed to take care of him."  And this ... my mother's last words to me were "Go take care of your brother".  I think I heard her admonish that often over my life time.  We, my brothers and I were taught to look out for one another.  The question of "Am I my brother's keeper?" has always baffled me - like, really?  You need to ask that?  When I think of him I think as far as the furthest far back thought is planted ... take care of ... . 

Yesterday I began to answer that thought by reassuring myself that I did my best.

There seems to be a lot of good in clearing away the clutter enough to be in a more mindful "place".  

Along those lines - It's not at all uncommon for a pilot to set up on autopilot during the cruise phase of a flight.  There are mission advantages (including fuel flow optimization >$<), when I am flying with someone it always surprises me when they are surprised that I go lean on the autopilot.  I like to fly.  When I say that, they smile.

I'm looking at what I have made "automatic", "habitual", "mindless".  I like the opportunity to think about some of this stuff - stuff I've previously off loaded.  

and that is a waterlouge of the fountain I snapped a pic of yesterday ... the colors are good

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