Something Sacred Every Day

Everyday sacred. As in banal, routine, quotidian. It’s holy, because I feel whole.

Just a short post to express gratitude that Larry is back and order has been re-established. I’ve joked that if I’m the kite, he’s my string. But I COUNT on him being here.

Larry is the living expression of fidelity. He goes to bed at the same time every night, he gets up at the same time every morning. He makes the bed. He takes the dog out. He makes a cup of tea and a piece of toast and sits down to watch a recorded episode of “Fast ‘n Loud.” He leaves at exactly 9:00 and walks into town with Zack the dog, and Donald McDonald the neighbor. I then have three hours basically to myself.

RE that cruise we just went on. I’d expressed hope that I’d have time to process the Holy Land trip while on it, that maybe it could be sort of a monastic experience, only with a breakfast buffet. Well, it wasn’t.  I think my monastic contemplative time is probably right here with Larry.

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