Not for a second

For sixty years I have been forgetful
every minute, but not for a second
has this flowing toward me stopped or slowed.
I deserve nothing.
--Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks.

My gratitude sings with the force of a thousand harmonious voices. Look, try to imagine: I can do what I like. My life belongs to me. I don't have to prepare classes, grade papers, memorize lines, drive anybody anywhere; I don't have to cook or wash up or supervise homework; I am not responsible for anyone's orgasm or fulfillment; I don't have to prove my love nor be worthy of someone else's passion. I have no deadlines, no debts, nothing that needs to be managed or invested, insured or protected from robbers. Nobody is supervising me, measuring me, finding me lacking. I don't have to please anyone, take care of anyone, make anyone happy or complete. It's nobody's business where I go or how long I stay. All the beings on earth are doing what is in them to do, and it's not my place to fix or change or assist or adjust a thing. I can, if I wish, attempt to right injustice, to relieve suffering, to give comfort. But I don't have to.

I spent the morning reading Isabel Fonseca's exquisitely-written book. I had a couple of very pleasant phone calls with friends. This afternoon I hung out with Laurie over a cappucchino and heard stories of her long hike in the mountains. I left her and went up to watch the sunset and was perfectly silent, perfectly alone, perfectly happy, for two complete hours doing nothing but watching.

I watched a cloud bank roll down from the sky toward the mountains. I watched the city grow dark (and all that mighty life) and the lights come on. I watched rush hour from a great distance, thinking of the tensions, the anxieties, the hopes and dramas down below, and I'm not involved in them.

I watched rose gold crown Mt. Hood and fill the wide, thin opening between the hills and the dark clouds. I watched the color fade to gray. And then I came home, with a book, an electric kettle, and a purring cat waiting for me. Has anybody in all the world ever known such privilege? Has anybody in all the world ever been richer or happier?

P.S. That mountain at the center, with its peak hidden in the cloud bank, is fifty miles from where I was standing.