Posted on November 3, 2022

As the sun translates itself into golden leaves and the sky shifts to a watercolor mix of grey and blue, the sense of waiting for clarity, the prescience is heavy all around. The world is holding its breath.

There is no “thing” to cling to today for me. For over a year, I have been floating on a raft sometimes carried by the current and other times just caught in the protruding tangle of tree roots. At these times, I become an immobile witness to the flow of time and events in the outside world.

Never before in 78 years of life have I been so detached from what is considered the 3 D normal world so completely. Sometimes I feel as if I have been attacked, bound, and thrown in a white van to be taken to a rehab temple high up in the mountains.

When my hip first failed, I had some difficulty walking but as the year went by the grinding of bone on bone in my hip joint ramped up the attack of pain, and the impossibility of trying to live what was my “normal” life stopped me in my tracks. I had been forced into complete submission.

My work addiction has been stripped from my mind violently. There is no joy in pushing myself to achieve a task. It sends me into three or four days of recovery and reclining on my pillows like some aged Cleopatra…

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