love, compassion

Returned _eat, pray, love_, did not read whole thing, but did want to note the mention of god as love, and of living from the heart.

Related, YES! magazine emphasizes compassion. The kids in the old painting cried as the adults watched as the bird died to demonstrate creation of a vacuum. A kid cried because a dry leaf he was holding broke.

Writers can exacerbate ailments of the mind. Reading David Foster Wallace, who killed himself this year, reading Elizbeth Gilbert, considering the effects of writing here, all these bring that to mind.

The quality of Thomas Mann vs. Wallace vs. Gilbert vs. Tolstoy vs. Merton. Vs. TNH.

Writing here to sort of note a point of lack: love, live from heart. . . Writing here may add to sense of lack in reader. . . Reader could wonder who these people are, wish she knew.

Another way to take this: as pointing to possibilities--your/my mind (not heart?) comes here seeking more engagement or helpful / interesting [/ novel] suggestion.

If I want more love, may look into _Learning True Love_ (sister chau ngiem [sp?]).

I am walking through a somewhat somber space these days. A lonely howling dog. A [generally] silent, shuffling, hard of hearing old man alone in a huge house with not a lot to do. Airplanes roaring overhead. Many cars driving on much pavement. Knowing there's another (young very young) old person alone in a medium house with not a lot to do. And many others.

Then there are people like Liz Gilbert and John McCain running around making tons of news. The old people watch about it on TV. I read about it.

This is a special space. I have escaped some of the energetic rushing around. I can be like a DF Wallace character and sit in one place all day, day after day [in my case], as the sun and shadows move about the room. I could stand by a road touching a post, waiting for my mom to return even if she never does.

I've walked away from birthdays, holidays, endearing expressions, tradition. [not entirely, not resolutely, only from what I don't feel, or from what I find unhelpful. I even seem to be walking away from activist friends, permaculture, a plant teacher, for similar reason/feeling.]

There is still love there. How odd is that?

I haven't walked away? There is love from/with the others who love no tradition, who honor no commitment? [who honor no mass behavior even if it be self-preserving? and for the greater good?]

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read a little, write a little,

peace,